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“Stay back, dammit,” he grunted, lifting his arms to deflect something.
Then he fell against me, nearly squashing the breath out of me. Daeary turned, bringing his weapon down. Somebody groaned and fell, forcing Dyf to jump aside.
And then I wished I was still hidden behind his broad back. Because in front of me was carnage. At least half of the Fae who’d entered the competition lay dead or dying.
There was so much blood on the sand, it glistened like the sea at sunset. The metallic smell was nauseating, clinging to my nostrils and making me gag.
Dyf breathed heavily, bleeding from a cut on his arm, but otherwise unhurt. Daeary sidestepped a man who came at him swinging and grabbed his neck.
The attacker’s expression changed from murderous to aroused in a heartbeat. This was Daeary’s power, wasn’t it? He was an incubus, and he fought dirty.
The attacker moaned loudly, rubbing his crotch where a stain bloomed. Then he shuddered and his eyes rolled back. He was dead before he hit the ground, and Daeary smacked his lips, laughing.
For the first time, I saw his true nature. His eyes were burning with red flames, and his demon nature couldn’t have been more obvious. How many men had he drained in the short time Dyf had concealed me? There were at least ten bodies, some of them women, at his feet.
His body was bulging with energy, and when our gazes met, I could feel my nipples harden. There was something about him, the way his black hair blew around his head like an aura, that drew me to him.
Dyf grabbed my shoulder. “Stop. This is what it feels like when a demon fights. Do not succumb to his power.”
I shook my head as if waking from a sexy dream. For a moment, I’d forgotten where I was.
But then six Fae rushed us, intent on overpowering us with sheer numbers. Two pinned Dyf against the wall as spectators screamed their approval from above. He parried their attacks, trying his best to drive them back.
Two more fought against Daeary’s compulsion, and they were made of hardier stuff than the dead warriors in the sand. Deftly avoiding the incubus’s hand, they danced around him, landing the odd blow against his leather-protected arms and legs.
That left two large Fae approaching me with their swords. They clearly expected me to have some power that made me dangerous. Because why else would I be in these trials? Moving until my back met the wall, I asked myself the same thing. Why the hell was I here? What had I been thinking?
Fixating the males who meant to kill me, I clutched the amulet and whispered, “Please, do something.”
The cursed thing hung like a dead weight against my chest. No sparks, no nothing. Useless.
Daylight disappeared as one of the Fae men stood over me, his face a mix of determination and pity. “I am sorry, girl. But you should not be here. Close your eyes, and I shall make it quick.”
He raised his sword, about to cut my head off. The motion broke me out of my paralysis. This was it—it was him or me. Quick as lightning, I pulled my bidog and stabbed him in the knee.
The male yelped and hopped sideways, his sword flailing wide, giving me just enough space to run around him. He recovered immediately and spun around, ready to cut me down. Before he could raise his arm again, Daeary had him by the throat.
I knew by the way my attacker’s mouth went slack and his eyes rolled back, he was experiencing the height of ecstasy, coming in his pants, as his life force flowed into Daeary.
Dyf had dispatched his two attackers, and Daeary’s face was ablaze with the energy he’d absorbed from the dead men.
And then the fight came to us. Suddenly, we were surrounded by a wave of struggling men, screaming and slashing at each other. Dyf was swallowed up by the avalanche of bodies. Raising my bidog, I backed away, ducking under swinging arms, when my luck ran out.
My heel found something to trip over, and before I knew it, I was flat on my back, my short sword knocked out of my hand. A huge shadow towered over me, and this time, I did close my eyes. I didn’t want to see the blade cut through the air and obliterate me.
Instead, a fist grabbed my shirt.
A familiar voice said, “Of all the places to meet again, kitten.”
My eyes flew open, and I looked into the warm, brown eyes of the man I’d thought had been dead for weeks. The roar of dying screams and victorious bellows dropped away as I stared at Than. For a moment, there were only him and me. With no effort, he lifted me up and pressed his lips against mine.
“Than,” I breathed, before collapsing into his arms. Dyf and Daeary rushed to my side, but they stopped when they saw how desperately I clung to the burly man who held me just as tightly.
A trumpet sounded to announce the end of round one.
Whoever was still standing dropped their weapons and staggered away from the fray. Most of the competitors had suffered some injuries, but nobody offered us any help or just some water to wash the taste of sand and blood from our mouths.
Than had lifted me off my feet, his eyes as wet as mine, as Dyf and Daeary stood next to us like two sentries. I had so many questions, but Than shook his head.
