As the opposing fighters circled them, Rafe met the traitor’s gaze and vowed to make him pay for all of it.
“This ends now,” he hissed, not bothering to salute Clayton with his sword.
Clayton’s maniacal grin matched the fevered madness in his eyes. “Quite so.”
His foe was a much stronger swordsman than Rafe had anticipated, matching him strike for strike.
Rafe took bitter enjoyment in the battle, relishing every cut he made on Clayton’s traitorous body. As he blocked another blow with his sword, Rafe ducked low and slammed the flat of his blade into Clayton’s kneecap.
The vampire went down with a howl of pain, and Rafe would have ended it there with a thrust to the heart, but someone threw a rock with obscene force and deflected his blade.
Vincent roared and drove his blade into the miscreant’s throat. No mercy would be shown to those who interfered with this fight. Rafe gave him a nod and met Clayton’s parry.
The Mark between him and Cassandra suddenly pulsed with throbbing grief. Rafe glanced over to see her kneeling beside Anthony’s headless corpse.
His own heart ached at the sight. Anthony had sacrificed his own life force for Rafe only to die because of Clayton’s madness and greed. A howl of fury erupted from Rafe’s throat. The bastard would pay.
Viciously, he struck at his enemy, taking pleasure at the growing lines of exhaustion forming at the corners of Clayton’s eyes and mouth. Soon he would have him.
Rafe slipped in the blood-sodden grass, clenching his teeth as Clayton nicked his shoulder. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to switch to his left hand. He had plans for that later.
“Yield, Villar,” his former second growled, “and I may consider allowing you to leave this field alive.”
Rafe laughed, not only at the ludicrous concept of surrendering to this cur, but at such a ludicrous lie. He laughed so hard that he nearly dropped his sword to clutch his stomach.
“What is so goddamned amusing?” Clayton snarled, eyeing Rafe warily as he attempted to jab him in the neck.
Rafe deflected the blow and answered with all the scorn in his being. “Your limitless capacity for delusion and ridiculous lies. You should have remained on the stage, Edmondson. You’re a bloody mummer, not a leader.”
Gasps and snickers erupted from the vampires on both sides at the announcement of Clayton’s secret past.
Clayton froze, gaping and spluttering in outrage at the mention of his past. “How—”
“Did you think I didn’t know?” Rafe affected a bored tone as he flicked his wrist and knocked the sword from his enemy’s grasp.
As Clayton’s sword skidded across the slick grass, the vampires opposing Rafe stepped back, bowing their heads submissively.
Flinching at their defection, Clayton sighed. “Make it quick.”
Rafe shook his head and tossed his blade to Vincent. “I think not. I’ve been waiting for this for too long.”
Unbelievably, the traitor’s face split into a wide grin. “You think to take me on, cripple?”
“I am no cripple.” He lunged out with his left hand and seized Clayton by the throat, lifting him in the air.
The vampire’s eyes bulged like a toad’s as he struggled and wheezed, “Your arm! But how—”
“I told you that Lady Rosslyn is a doctor.” Rafe clenched his wholly healed fingers tighter on the vampire’s windpipe. “You should have listened to me.”
Just as Clayton’s lips began to turn blue, Rafe slammed him on the ground.
Before Clayton could escape, Rafe leaped on him, pinning his legs with his own. Raising his left fist first, he punched the vampire so hard his lip split open. Another blow with his right smashed Clayton’s nose to a bloody pulp.
Unlike in his boxing matches with mortals, he did not hold back his speed or strength.
On and on, Rafe rained down blows, mentally assigning each punch as punishment for one of Clayton’s vile deeds.
This one was for being disrespectful as his second, this one for recruiting William as a spy. This one for turning against him. One for each rogue he allowed in the city, one for Cassandra. Another for Cassandra…and more for all the deaths he caused.