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I smothered a smile.
28
BRIEN
The moment I was back on my feet, I dodged right, expecting Prosper to take advantage of my slip.
But he didn’t. Instead, he moved back, breathing hard. Vampires don’t sweat, and we normally take only four or five breaths a minute. But Prosper’s breathing was ragged, heavy.
I was breathing deeper, too, but he sounded exhausted. Was he really tiring, or was he faking it?
I pressed harder.
He lashed out with his blade, slashing a line over my left eye to match the one he’d made on my right. I would’ve been blinded by the blood if the cut over my right eye hadn’t already closed up.
A nasty bit of strategy, one his side applauded. I backpedaled and swiped the blood away with my arm.
Prosper followed, breathing hard but still fast. I faked right, kicking out with my left foot and catching him in the elbow. His dagger flew out of his hand.
We both lunged for it, but I reached the dagger first, snatching it up. Prosper swore and spun toward Matthew, who slapped the second blade into Prosper’s hand.
Prosper spun back to me, but I parried the thrust with his own blade and struck out—once, twice—cutting deeply into his side and then stabbing him in the neck. Then I backpedaled, quickly putting a few feet between us.
He was bleeding from multiple wounds now. A strategy he’d taught me himself. The more he bled, the more slowly his wounds would heal.
His chest expanded. I sensed him drawing on his magic. He launched himself at me, his fangs gleaming in the candlelight.
I sidestepped—and slipped on a pool of blood. My feet shot out from beneath me and I landed hard on the marble floor. Worse, in the split second I’d been distracted, trying to catch my balance, Prosper slashed his blade across my inner elbow, cutting through tendons and rendering my left arm temporarily useless. The blade in my left hand clanged to the floor several feet away from me.
I cursed myself under my breath. I should’ve seen that coming. It was a classic Prosper move.
The lieutenant stomped on my right wrist, grinding his bare heel into the tendons to make me release the dagger I still held. Without my willing it, my right hand opened and the dagger slipped to the marble floor. I drew my knees up to kick Prosper away, before I could, he’d dropped to his knees on my chest, hard enough to knock the breath out of me.
One hand gripped my chin, forcing it back. His fangs gleamed, his gaze on my throat. Then the motherfucker shifted on my chest so he could dig a knee into my balls.
The pain nearly blinded me. Then it got worse, spreading from my nuts to my groin to my stomach, wave after wave of it, until all I wanted to do was curl into a fetal ball and wait for it to pass.
Prosper raised his free arm to stake me. Somehow I managed to shove his knee away from my groin and bring up my own leg to protect myself.
Way back in my brain, my father’s voice whispered.
You don’t have what it takes to be primus.
Twilight moaned and I flashed on what would happen to her if I lost this challenge.
Like fuck I don’t.
A growl erupted from deep inside me. I got a foot between us and kicked Prosper in the stomach with all my strength. He flew through the air, landing five yards away from me.
Despite my still-aching groin, I leapt back to my feet and quickly licked the crook of my left elbow to speed its healing. But for now, I’d have to fight righthanded.
I drew on my own magic with everything I had and came at Prosper.
Time to end this.
We fought hand-to-hand, hard and dirty, but he’d used up the last of his strength in that final push. I, on the other hand, still had energy to spare. The pain in my gut had subsided, and my right wrist felt good as new.
His gaze flicked to mine. He kept fighting, but I think we both knew I had the upper hand now.
