Shadow's Claim

Chapter 42

“One doesn’t have to be a sorceress to sense the night’s portentous atmosphere,” Morgana murmured from her seat on the dais.

Bettina agreed. As Raum greeted the crowd, she gazed over the arena. The rain today had left the ring a red-clay mire. Coils of fog slithered around the cage, oozing from the ground and weaving through the bars.

The full moon riddled the haze with wavering spears of light.

When Raum announced the competitors, the crowd cheered, but their reaction was muted, as if they sensed the ominous air as well.

Caspion and Daciano entered the ring then, tracing over the mud. At this point, she just wanted the two to be safe. She’d deal with the fallout later.

While Raum continued his announcements—about the midnight wedding ceremony, the forthcoming kingdomwide holidays to celebrate, and so on—Bettina studied the vampire.

In each round, he’d been the picture of coldness. Eyes intent, expression focused. A male bent on a single task.

Now sweat dotted his brow and tracked down his temples. His pupils were dilated, and the finest lines of blood streaked from the corners of his eyes.

When he shook his head hard, nearly losing his balance, Bettina’s hand shot to Morgana’s arm. “Look at the vampire!”

“What is it?”

“Look at his eyes.”

She squinted. “Oh, for the love of gold! You have to be kidding me.”

“He’s been poisoned!” Bettina hissed. She knew the symptoms as well as the next Sorceress.

Morgana gave an astonished laugh. “Your wastrel got clever.”

“No! Cas wouldn’t have done this,” she said, even as she recalled his unwarranted confidence.

Tomorrow night’s his last. . . . I cannot lose. . . . I’ll use his weakness against him. . . .

“Perhaps Caspion and another planned this?” Morgana sliced her gaze over to Raum.

Cheating is rampant. Was that what the two of them had been talking about last night? Poisoning wasn’t outside of the rules.

Then comprehension dawned. It had to be Daciano’s cousins who’d done this! He’d told her that all of them were forever trying to kill each other, and they’d been in his tent earlier.

“Your vampire’s been given something very potent,” Morgana observed. “On a scale from one to five—five being the rare toxin that could actually kill an immortal—I’d put him at four.”

“Four? What do I do? What can I do?”

“Hope he can rebound from such a strong dose.”

In an obvious bid to do just that, he shook his head again. He nearly reeled before he regained his balance. He seemed confused, his feet sluggish in the thick mud.

He’s getting worse.

She turned to Cas. He was seething, his horns ramrod straight, his fangs swollen. He unsheathed his sword, gripping it tightly, his arm muscles bulging. His friends in the stands yelled, antagonizing him even more.

Daciano ran his sleeve over his eyes, then again, as if his sight had been dimmed. When he drew his own weapon, he staggered once more.

The gate clanged shut for the last time. Before Bettina could say a word, Raum gave his signal. And she was helpless yet again as the horn sounded its final blare—

Cas attacked immediately, his sword flashing out. Daciano could barely deflect the hit in time. Their swords clanged loudly, the metallic pitch ringing out in the night.

Cas struck again; Daciano managed a lethargic block. The vampire’s reflexes were deteriorating even more, while Cas was faster, stronger, than she could have imagined—

With a sudden lunge, Cas thrust his sword straight out, like an extension of his brawny arm. Too late, Daciano reared his head back; the blade tip caught his cheek, flaying the skin open.

At that moment, moonlight hit the vampire’s face, illuminating ghostly white bone before blood welled.

Daciano evinced no expression—no pain, anger, confusion—just vacantness as blood flowed down his face.

Cas followed that parry with another lightning fast strike; a deep laceration appeared on the vampire’s sword arm.

As Bettina gaped at this turn of events, Morgana calmly observed, “Only a matter of time now, freakling.”

“No, no, the vampire will shake this off!” she said, feigning confidence she didn’t feel. Daciano looked like he could barely control his heavy eyelids—much less what was happening in the ring. “Y-you know how strong he is.”

With a mindblowing ferocity, Cas swung his sword high, using both hands to deliver a brutal strike; Daciano lifted his sword overhead to defend.

Again their blades clanged, metal scraping metal. Sparks rained down over Daciano’s head, highlighting his sweating, bloody countenance.

Pressing his advantage, Cas whaled hit after hit, as if swinging an ax at a chopping block.

The spate of furious blows drove Daciano down . . . down. . . .

When the vampire’s knees sank into the mire and confusion registered on his proud face, Bettina realized two things.

She was in love with him.

And she’d do anything to save him.

Sword quaking in my hands, metal pealing in my ears, mud sucking me down.

Caspion hammering at me.

“Know defeat, vampire! Delivered unto you—by a demon!”

Must shake this weakness! Yet nothing could pierce Trehan’s stupor. His peripheral vision was still obscured by blood, his equilibrium wrecked.

His disordered mind finally accepted the truth: he’d been . . . poisoned. Likely by the coward who was even now striving to take his head.

But how could Caspion have dosed him before the round? Trehan had only been around his cousins and Bettina.

The hits . . . ceased? Like a blur, the demon began tracing around him, cleverly keeping to his blind spots. Trehan struggled to rise. For her, he would fight on. Everything I desire is here for the taking—

Suddenly, steel pressed against his throat. From behind, Caspion had him dead to rights.

Or so the demon thinks.

At last, adrenaline began spiking throughout Trehan’s veins to burn away the toxin. Power flowed into his muscles, his body rebounding with the strength of the Daci.

Now you’ve irritated me, whelp. Trehan bared his fangs. Gods, I’m going to enjoy teaching you a lesson. “The fight’s not over, boy. You forget what I am—”

“I plead mercy!” Bettina cried.

What? Too soon, Bett! The crowd grew hushed. He twisted his head around to glimpse her face.

“I plead mercy for the Prince of Shadow.”

Trehan’s breath left him. She’d just invoked the clause . . .

For me? Disqualifying me from the tournament? No, no, he’d misheard. His mind was unclear. She had not just taken herself out of his reach forever.

After the night they’d shared? After all he’d sacrificed? A mea! She wouldn’t do this. She knows how much I want her.

Caspion leaned down to sneer, “I didn’t forget what you are. You’re a loser, disqualified from the tournament. I told you she’d never be your wife!”

Now she would be this demon’s?

Caspion laughed. “Go back to your lonely home in the ground, old man.”

I have no fucking home! Gave up everything for her! And she was always going to be with Caspion.

Were they in league together—

Realization struck him like a mace to the throat. Bettina had handed him a goblet of blood less than half an hour ago. Here, Trehan. Drink. She possessed an extensive arsenal of poisons.

Not Bettina. It couldn’t be her.

Who else, you fool? His cousins would never stoop so low. Even Stelian had too much honor for that. And hadn’t Bettina been wearing her customary poison ring earlier? He’d thought the taste of the blood was off, thought yet again that he’d been ruined by the ambrosia flowing through her veins.

The ambrosia she’d denied him last night.

His fangs shot longer, gone sharp as razors. All the aggression Trehan had vigilantly harnessed over ages came howling to life inside him—a ravening beast rising for carnage.

With a bellow, he gripped the end of Caspion’s sword. The blade sliced his hand, blood gushing as he snatched it away from the stunned demon. Tracing to his feet, Trehan hurled the weapon to the far edge of the ring.

As the demon gawked, Trehan sheathed his own sword, wanting to deal this death personally. To feel bone breaking and skin rending between my fingers.

Even as the toxin was seared away, his thoughts grew even more jumbled, a tangled snarl in his mind. She will never be mine, will always want the male before me.

He threw back his head and roared, fists clenched until his arm and chest muscles knotted. As the sound died in his throat, he gazed at Bettina, at her pale face. You want Caspion so badly? I’ll give you his fucking head!

When he turned to face his prey, a bloodred haze covered Trehan’s vision. Kill.

For the first time in his long, wearying existence, he fully gave himself over to rage.