Page 82 of Golden Eagle

She could see the nerves lifting off of him like vapor; his opponent must have been able to smell them.

“They’re not taking a water break first?” Trina asked Alexei.

He shook his head, lips pressing into a grim line. “Not if Lanny doesn’t want one. Guess he doesn’t.”

How about a blood break?she wanted to ask. He might have been a vicious, beautiful fighter, but he was going to need all the strength he could get facing this monster.

“He’ll be fine,” Sasha offered. “He’s strong.”

“Alright, you guys,” the emcee called, grinning ear-to-ear. “You know this is the big one. The rematch!”

Cheers went up.

The boys all sat forward, and Trina realized she’d done the same. She caught Nik’s gaze, briefly, as the emcee came out and the cage was shut; his expression was inscrutable. She had the sense he was taking her measure, though.

Then the fighters bumped their wrapped knuckles together in a token show of fighters’ respect, and it began.

They circled one another, quick and light on the balls of their feet, bodies coiled like springs, rippling and ready. Lanny’s jaw was set, his dark eyes catching the light in a way that made them look black and predatory. He was ready, anxious, spoiling for it. And just fearful enough for her to tell it.

He struck first, when it became clear his opponent wouldn’t. A fast jab, just feeling the other guy out. His opponent leaned back just far enough to avoid him, but no more; not scared, not even sweating.

Shit, this was going to beso bad.

“He has to overwhelm him to start,” Nikita murmured beside her. “He isn’t going to tire out and get careless like a human that large would. He has to cripple him, make him hurt, make him bleed. Make them call the damn fight before he gets himself killed.”

“I thought there was only one surefire way to kill a vampire,” she said, aiming for cocky, landing on airless.

“There is. But alive doesn’t mean without pain. There are some injuries no one wants to come back from.”

She knotted her hands together in her lap, heart in her throat. All her fury had quieted for the moment; it would return, she knew, after, if he was okay. But right now she only had room for worry.

Maybe his hearing was good enough to have picked up on Nik’s words, or maybe he’d come to the same conclusion, but with a sudden burst, Lanny stopped testing, and started swinging to hurt. He moved in with a series of deft strikes, most of which his opponent blocked with an almost-lazy swipe of his arm. But Lanny seemed to have anticipated that, and ducked in closer, faster, and landed a solid combo right to the other vampire’s ribs.

Solid, meaty thuds on impact. Stallions kicking at one another; lions swiping. Not the sounds of a human fight.

The other vampire reacted with a shudder, and a grunt, and retaliated with a vicious swipe at Lanny’s head. It landed just above his ear, and Lanny’s eyes closed, teeth bared, fangs long.

“Shit,” she breathed. A human would have gone down to a knee and stayed there long enough to have his bell rung again.

But Lanny growled – a vampire growl, like a big cat, and she recoiled along with the rest of her pack with dismay, while some of the audience recoiled in shock – and surged back to his feet, leaping back out of the way of the other vamp’s next strike. Trina saw a crimson glimmer of blood curl down the edge of his ear, from a split in his hairline, and when he fixed his gaze on his opponent next, it was with murder in his eyes.

It was on, now.

He seemed to accelerate, as he ducked, and weaved, and struck again. Another hit to the ribs. Dodge. A hard sucker punch up under the jaw. The other vamp’s head snapped back, and then he was growling, too. Roaring, and surging forward.

Lanny met him, and then it wasn’t so much boxing, as raw grappling, fingers curled, fangs bared, hands moving in a blur. The other vamp’s head snapped back, and the lights caught the shine of blood spraying. Lanny was holding his own, but…

“Can he hold up?” she asked, because this was beyond her. Boxers she could have pegged, even with an untrained eye. But these were creatures of legend, and she had no idea how badly they’d tear one another apart before a winner emerged.

To her surprise, it was Dante who answered, definitely British this time, and sounding pinched with anxiety. “They could go on for much longer, doubtless. But too much more, and the mortals will grow suspicious.”

“Then we’ll have a whole other kind of problem,” Alexei said. “I can compel most of these fools into thinking they didn’t see this, especially if Nik and Dante help me–”

In the ring, Lanny roared; the sharp cracking roar of a Siberian tiger. He came up under his opponent’s chin, caught him with one, two, three awful blows that crunched and sent blood splattering across his own face. Then toppled the vamp back, knelt on his chest, and attacked his face with both fists, one after the next, a blur.

Beside her, Alexei hissed, low and distinctly pleased.

“Glorious,” Dante murmured.

---