Nightfall (38 page)

Laurent ignored that, his gaze moving past him to the small
army. “Texans and their guns. They can’t harm me.”

“I bet your boy feels differently.” Butch nodded toward
Mike. “From the info Selene gave me, a human just about smoked him using a
rifle and the sharp end of a hoe.”

Mike looked like he barely suppressed the instinct to show
fang. Apparently lesser vampires didn’t disrespect overlords, even if they
weren’t their own.

Quinn’s attention hadn’t wavered from Selene, but as the words
sunk in he realized she’d gotten up to speed about what happened from his mind
once she woke.

During that pause, Ernesto was pulled out of another SUV.
His clothes were ripped and mussed, and a few bloodstains suggested he hadn’t
been taken gently. Those wounds must have already healed, but Quinn was
satisfied at the evidence of them.

Butch’s men from the same vehicle looked happy to be rid of
him. When they gestured at him with their rifles, he responded with a curled
lip and flash of fang, but he moved back through the clearing to rejoin Mike.
Laurent gave him a withering look that didn’t bode well. Quinn expected Ernesto
would be bleeding again today, but he couldn’t summon much sympathy for him,
all in all.

Laurent turned his attention back to Butch. “My vampire was
taken unawares, a mistake that won’t happen twice. Regardless, her human’s life
is now forfeit to me since he attempted to kill a vampire.”

Butch glanced at Ernesto. “He behaved himself in the car
with my men. Which is why you’re getting him back alive. So I’d say that’s tit
for tat for Quinn.”

“This human tried to kill me,” Laurent retorted. “Further
compensation is required than just one subordinate—and inept—vampire’s life.”

Ernesto tried to remain impassive under Laurent’s cutting
look, but Quinn saw the swallow. Yeah, today was going to suck for him. But
maybe before this was over, Laurent’s day would suck far more.

Selene stepped forward. “Fifty percent of what I earn here
will go to you, Laurent. For the next twenty-five years.”

Butch gave her a severe look, making it clear she hadn’t had
leave to offer that, but she nodded to him. “That doesn’t cut into the amount
we agreed I would give you as part of your territory.”

“Which is irrelevant if you are coming home with me, as you
will be,” Laurent snapped.

Butch brought his attention back to Laurent. “My guys and
their guns are here to even the playing field. To make it a fair fight. You’re
all about beating up on a girl when you outnumber her four to one. Or torturing
a human, which takes as much effort as kicking a puppy or drowning a newborn.”

Quinn would have taken offense, but even in his disoriented
mind, he realized Butch must have a purpose for goading the other vampire. It
had worked. Laurent flushed red over his pale features. Butch glanced back at
his men, his tone becoming conversational.

“One of my favorite entertainments is to draw down with
another vampire. Old west roleplaying. See whose fastest and all that. You’d
say it was just more of my Texan fascination with firearms, but it’s a game,
which means I only do it with friends. What I want is to mess up that pretty
face of yours with my fists. A bullet wouldn’t be anywhere near as satisfying.”

Laurent was rallying, his arrogant expression back in place.
“I see no point to a fight between us. The nature of our disagreement is more
contractual.”

“Here’s the deal.” Butch pressed on as if he hadn’t spoken.
“You and I do a hand-to-hand bout. If I win, Quinn goes free and clear back to
his Mistress. The Region Masters’ decision is their decision. That will stand
either way.”

Laurent’s brow creased. “While I’m enjoying the diversion of
Selene’s servant, I’m not about to get into a barroom brawl over owning him. An
unwashed cowboy isn’t that appealing to me. I see no benefit.”

“I’ll draw you a picture then. It’s pretty much carte
blanche what we want to do to our servants.” Butch’s gaze swept Quinn
indifferently, though he thought he might have detected a minor flinch from the
vampire overlord when he noted the state of his cock and testicles, wrapped in
the barbed wire. “But Region Masters and the Council feel a little differently
when it’s happening to the vampires in your own territory. I had my servant do
a little checking. There are lines, and you like crossing them. Cross them enough,
they become straws on a camel’s back. Dix has talked to enough of those straws
in the past several hours to make me think that if I registered a few
complaints on their behalf, the Council might wonder if you should be an
overlord after all.”

“The Council won’t hear the whining complaints of a
backwoods territory overlord. I hold far more weight than you do.”

Butch’s dark eyes glinted with malice. “It’s not where you
live, Laurent, but the friends you have. And I have a particular friend. Lady
Lyssa.”

That gave Laurent pause. Quinn was having trouble focusing
on the dialogue, because the pain was rising again, a throb oozing back into
the cracks of that wall around his mind. But he realized a new tension had
gripped the New York overlord. He was distantly glad for that, but to manage
the agony in his body, he looked toward his Mistress, stared at her beloved
face. Quinn felt Selene’s awareness of him, though like most everyone else, her
eyes remained on Laurent and Butch.

“You’ve heard of her, right?” Butch lifted a brow, his tone
deceptively mild. “Not only the last surviving member of our royal clans, she
was the former Southern Region Master until she changed jobs. What’s she doing
now, Dix? I forget.” He glanced at Dix, standing just behind him to his right.

“Currently head of the Vampire Council, my lord,” Dix said
formally. Butch gave him a wry look, maybe because of Dix’s use of his title,
but he lifted a shoulder.

“She likes me. At least enough to spend some time on the
phone listening to what I have to say. I think you’re familiar enough with her
reputation to know she’s not a big fan of pointless brutality, especially
toward the vampires you’re supposed to be governing.”

Laurent’s expression flickered at that, and though he
quickly masked it, Butch let out a chuckle. “You just might get busted back
down to peon level. That’d be a real shame. You’d have to work for a living
instead of enjoying those juicy tithes you extort out of your vampires. So,
what do you say to my ‘deal’ now?”

When Laurent said nothing, Butch added, “If I lose, your
secrets are safe with me and you can continue to play your sick little games
with Quinn. Though I’m telling you, this kind of shit makes the rest of us
think you’re compensating for some little boy vampire sense of inadequacy.”

Selene made a noise of protest, but Butch shot her a sharp
look. She subsided, though the effort obviously cost her. Quinn was on Butch’s
side. As long as he took care of Selene, his fate didn’t matter to him.

With a snarl, Laurent turned away, stripping off his coat.
Making a satisfied nod, Butch started unbuttoning his shirt. When he shrugged
out of it, he revealed a body as powerful-looking as the fit of the clothes had
suggested, roped with hard muscle, but Quinn now knew firsthand that strength
for vampires was linked to age. Laurent had a hundred years on Butch. Maybe
that was why Laurent didn’t look the least worried about the challenge. He
appeared mostly annoyed, probably because they’d interrupted his plan and he
might have to get his clothes dirty.

As Claudio took the coat Laurent shed, the vampire addressed
Butch again. He’d dropped the scorn and arrogance, leaving pure malice in his
tone. “When I win, I will kill him here and now, in front of her. In front of
you, Dorn. Since a human life bothers you.”

Butch shrugged. “The human life doesn’t matter to me. What
matters is getting the chance to beat the shit out of you. Quinn’s a happy
means to that end.”

As the two vampires prepared and exchanged barbs, Quinn’s
attention moved to Dorn’s men. All of their faces were somber, eyes serious and
alert. Dix drew Selene closer to Quinn, but Laurent stabbed a finger in that
direction.

“No. She doesn’t touch him until the fight is resolved. In
fact…” His gaze lighted with pleasure and he tossed the whip to Mike. “He will
continue his punishment until the matter is resolved.”

“No.” Selene stepped forward then, her jaw set. “You
bastard.”

“Selene.” Butch gave her an even look, then shifted his gaze
to Quinn. His tone was deceptively mild. “I expect it’s going to be a short
fight, Quinn.”

Quinn shook his head. “Take your time,” he rasped. “They
can’t hurt me. Not as long as my Mistress is safe.”

Her features became even tighter, but she reached out to him
in his mind.
Hold on, Quinn.

It was like a simple handclasp, more precious to him right
now than even a full embrace.

We’re going to owe this guy our firstborn if he wins, you
know that, right?

I think he’s counting on it.

The dry note laced with the tension helped him lift his
gaze, hold on to hers. Even as he sensed Mike drawing closer, drawing back that
whip. Her jaw tightened such that he feared the tension would break it, her
blue eyes filled with emotions that destroyed him.

He wouldn’t scream. He wouldn’t.

The bubble burst, all that pain flooding through him with
the first strike. He wrenched his head back as far as his bonds would allow,
his body going rigid, fighting the inevitable. He was vaguely aware of Butch
and Laurent circling one another, then the ground vibrated as they charged and slammed
into one another like a car crash. A blink later the fence shuddered under the
impact of their bodies and he saw it splinter, give way three sections down.
The whip fell again and his body contorted against his bonds, red fire washing
through him.

In the haze of pain he realized the combatants were moving
so fast the only way to track them was by the trail they left. Earth furrowed
as they rolled down the short hill into the retention pond. The flash of the
water against the moonlight showed their movements. He had a brief impression
of Laurent landing a blow in Butch’s rib cage that should have broken bone like
matchsticks, but Butch roared and Laurent was airborne, thudding back onto the
bank.

Quinn lost track of them then because agony took over again.
The blows were landing one after another, no pause between. Mike was taking his
pound of flesh. Maybe a hell of a lot more than that. The pain didn’t ebb and
flow. It was a crescendo, and Quinn couldn’t get above it or around it this
time. He’d never experienced such agony in his life. He struggled to get back
to that place deep inside, but it was too far to reach. He was being dragged
down into another kind of dark place, one way too much like being buried alive
to allow him to hold on to his courage.

No, he had to hold on. For her. Selene was watching. He had
to prove he was worthy of her, even if he’d been the dumbass shit who’d screwed
all this up.

The whip struck his shoulder, but this time it didn’t slice
and pull back. It fell, rolling along his torn back and catching on the split
rail by his bound ankle. He heard what had to be a scuffle behind him, a crack
and then a thump. He lifted his head enough to try to find Selene, see if he
could figure out what had happened, but she wasn’t there.

Instead her hands were on him, her lips on his blood-soaked
shoulder. He’d never felt anything so welcome in his life, even as he’d never
felt so terrible. She was cutting his bonds free, her and Dix. He was blearily
aware of the ranch hand pulling away the ropes, helping Selene ease him to the
ground. It was Selene’s gentle fingers that removed the barbed wire from around
his genitals. Which still hurt like hell, because the stuff in his ass had
brought him back to a full erection in no time, but at least that burning
sensation had eased off. Apparently the pain factor of the ointment had a
shorter shelf life. One small blessing in the midst of the horror.

Her touch was far more than a small blessing. Even with the
discomfort, he embraced that feeling, her hands on him, her concerned face in
his field of vision.

“Selene…”

“Sssh.” Her head jerked up, then her breasts were pressed
against his face, her arms tight around him. She’d thrown herself on him,
shielding him. The ground shuddered like an earthquake. From her grunt at the
impact, he thought a car had run over them both. Then the pressure was gone.
Tilting his head up, he followed the direction of her glance just in time to
see the cabin door give way, along with a big chunk of the wall surrounding it.
He realized Butch and Laurent had taken their fight back up the little hill,
fists pummeling each other as the battle continued, powerful bodies with
strength far beyond that of humans destroying everything in their paths. All
the males on both sides had moved back to flank the clearing, watching the
track of the combat. Then Selene’s arms were around him, pulling him up against
her again, and that was all that mattered. His Mistress was holding him.

“Quinn, Quinn…” She was whispering his name.

“You should run…now,” he said hoarsely. “While they’re
fighting. Just go. Run.”

“I’m done running.” She eased him back so he was half-lying
on her thighs. “Whatever happens, happens.”

“This is my fault. I’m so sorry.”

“No. No it’s not. It’s Laurent’s fault. I told you. I want
you as who you are, Quinn, and you couldn’t have done this differently. Though
I certainly wish I’d been awake to stop you.” She gave him a mock stern look,
though he realized she was also crying. “I would have.”

When he’d turned his head to look at her, he’d caught Mike
in his field of vision. The vampire was sitting on his ass about fifty yards
away. He was holding the side of his head, where an explosion of blood had
baptized his face. Quinn blinked, realizing the blunt object that had hit him
was one of the two by fours Quinn had brought in the back of his truck. Mike
was glaring at Selene, but given that a few of Butch’s men were keeping their
eyes and weapons trained on him, he’d decided being shot full of holes twice in
one day wasn’t preferable to revenge.