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He dropped into a fighter’s crouch. “She’s got something you’ll never have.”
I moved a few feet back, guarding Brien from another attack. Although to be honest, if a vampire came at me, I’d be dead before I knew I was being attacked.
I’d never wanted so badly to be a vampire myself.
Brien wasn’t weak. I was.
“What?” Clarisse mirrored Brien, dagger out.
She began to move her upper body from side to side, feet planted and knees bent, in a hypnotic, cobra-like movement. I focused on her feet so I wouldn’t get drawn in.
“Integrity,” Brien replied.
It took me a few seconds to realize he was talking about me, then I blinked. I’d lied to Brien from the day we’d met.
“If she makes me a promise,” he stated, “I know she’ll keep it. Can you say the same thing? You swore loyalty to the syndicate, and I’m your new primus. So what in Lilith’s name do you think you’re doing?”
“Challenging you.” Clarisse struck at Brien’s chest, sharp and vicious, but Brien knocked her thrust aside and she almost lost the blade.
“You’ve lost the right to challenge me, Dumas. But I accept.”
She regripped the dagger handle and bared her teeth. “You and your honor and integrity. Like I said,soft. Jules was right.”
She went for him again. The fight was short and vicious, a flurry of slashing blows too fast for me to follow. But when Brien straightened, lungs heaving, his dagger was buried in Clarisse’s chest.
Shock slackened the former enforcer’s jaw. She wrapped her fingers around the handle, her gaze traveling past Brien’s shoulder to where I stood, gripping my remaining switchblade.
Hate flashed over her face. “Bitch,” she hissed.
Then her fingers slipped from the dagger’s handle. Her eyes rolled up in her head and she slumped to the marble floor.
Brien smiled. “You lose.”
He jerked the blade from her chest and stepped back, glancing around for me. I went to his side, and his arm came around me like an iron band.
The battle was over. The two vampires that had attacked Talon and Cain were ashes, as well as the vampire who’d gone to their aid. Brien’s side was nursing a few serious injuries—Prosper was holding his detached right hand to his wrist, waiting for it to reconnect—but they’d only lost one man.
“You okay?” I asked, although as far as I could tell, Clarisse had barely touched him, and his earlier cuts, while still visible, were healing rapidly.
Brien’s green eyes seared me. “I’m fine. You?”
“I’m good.”
“Good.” Something about the way he said it—all growly and sensual—made my inner thighs clench.
Keeping me tucked against his side, he raised his voice. “All of you, it’s over.” He sounded cool, in control. If he hadn’t given me that single, searing look, I wouldn’t have known how revved-up he was. “There will be a meeting tomorrow at midnight to discuss the new hierarchy—my war room.”
The remaining vampires either saluted or murmured, “Yes, Primus.” They were bloodied and disheveled, their eyes hyper-alert and ringed with blue. The testosterone and adrenaline in the room was still sky-high.
“And have someone dispose of the ashes in the ocean. These bastards don’t deserve an honorable burial.”
Brien turned back to me. This time, his gaze lingered on my throat.
My blood heated. I recognized that look. He was hungry.
I gave him a slow smile. “Congratulations, Primus.”
“Mm.” He nuzzled my cheek. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
