Chapter 5 Kyle #2
Brock studied me, his gaze narrow as he worked it up and down my body, sizing me up.
“Well, he dresses like a play soldier, anyway.” His tone was dismissive.
Then he took a swig from a water bottle some little minion of a fledgling offered him before he rammed the tip of his forefinger into my chest. “You fight every one of my enforcers in this yard right now, and if you come out on top, you’re in. ”
I glanced at him but didn’t say a word and a slow, evil grin twisted his lips.
“You’re either in or you die,” he said with a lazy shrug. “No skin off my nose either way.”
“No problem.” I tensed my jaw.
Hell, if this guy wanted to see me fight, I’d fight. If I destroyed half of his workforce, that shit was on him, although the idea of the lengths he’d go to so that he could replace what I wasted twisted my insides.
Brock gestured down the steps, a smirk twisting his lips. “After you.”
I resisted flipping him the bird and nodded instead. “Of course.” I scanned the men in front of me as I walked down the steps. My boots knocked against each tread, the echo sounding like a rapidly firing gun.
A young vampire swaggered forward and took up an immediate position that looked like something he’d learned from watching TV or playing a video game. I almost laughed. Street fighters presented no problem. And I preferred arrogant ones because they made mistakes.
He crooked a finger. “Come at me,” he said, and this time I did allow myself a smile.
Oh, yeah, this one would definitely make mistakes. He was both cocky and stupid. The best of combinations.
He lunged at me, and I threw my fist out, striking his jaw and taking him straight to the ground.
It wasn’t even a contest. I didn’t have time to return to Brock, though.
Or even look at him to see if I could read his expression.
Four guys detached themselves from the larger group and strode toward me, like this whole thing had been planned and practiced for days.
Maybe I’d give them points for choreography.
Their faces changed as they came closer, taking on enhanced vampire features.
Their cheekbones became more prominent, their fangs elongated, and their eyes glowed a dull red associated with high emotion.
Aggression in this case, most likely. Like that might scare me and gain them an advantage.
They hadn’t yet learned how not to rely on the fear of humans to give them their win.
I was bigger and I was scarier — any day of the week.
That was also something I could use to my benefit, that they were essentially behaving like I was a human who would buckle under fear alone.
My usual team under Nic legitimately trained like Navy Seals.
Hell, half of us were ex-military, some from special ops and various missions we couldn’t even discuss.
We had skills that would make these new vampires look like the children they were.
Was this really how Brock intended to train his army? In a yard with no real structure or leadership to show them the techniques of battle and war?
In the end, I almost laughed as I took them with military precision, using them against each other as they moved in their uncoordinated attack, getting in each other’s way and forgetting to function as a team. Clearly, they’d never been trained that way in the first place.
The first guy swaggered over. Wait… What?
They were actually going to take turns to fight me?
Like some sort of polite cast of extras in a movie?
I shrugged, my initial confusion at their tactics probably just looking like I was loosening up.
He feigned rushing at me, making himself as big as possible, his arms held at an odd angle at his sides like he thought he was some sort of boogeyman.
I slammed my fist into his gut when he danced a little too close and he doubled over, earning himself a knee to the face.
Blood spurted from his nose, and he howled in pain, rage almost visible, shimmering in the air around him. Before he could move, and before any of his friends could think to come to his aid, I grabbed him and threw him against the wall, calling on my superior strength and ability.
Bones cracked and the vampire lay still.
I turned to the next three and they looked at each other like they were counting themselves in.
They rushed me as one, and I swept to the side, grabbing the two closest and cracking their heads together. The resulting sound was squelching and wet, and gray matter oozed through the splits in their skulls. Their eyes dimmed immediately, and I threw the bodies off to the side.
Only one vampire from this group stood, watching me now. Momentary confusion flitted over his face, at odds with his vampire features, and pity knotted inside me.
Then enthusiasm for a fight overcame his good sense, or maybe he simply had no choice, and he charged at me.
I darted to the side, using the wall in supernatural parkour and jumped off, landing on him and taking him to the ground.
He flipped, surprising me, and reared up, his fangs bared.
Instinct and adrenaline flooded me, and I punched through his ribs before withdrawing his heart. It beat one last time, bugling between my fingers, before I threw it to the ground, my disgust in equal measure at myself and the man I’d killed.
Brock too. He’d set up this fucking circus.
I clenched my jaw. Brock was failing in his duty to his fledglings. That carelessness with his responsibility only further strengthened my resolve to bring him down.
The sixth guy approached me, but I’d become a little complacent in my anger. I stood quickly, but he swiped my feet from under me with a fast-moving roundhouse kick to my legs, and I landed hard on the ground, but I sprang back up before he could gain any traction from laying me out.
Brock laughed but I didn’t even glance at him before I took his man out with a combination of moves at vampire speed.
It was gratifying to have a worthier opponent to use them on.
But he still didn’t last long, his head snapping back and his body landing hard on the ground.
He’d ache when he came around. At least I hadn’t killed this one.
They all deserved it… but the waste grieved me.
I almost didn’t see the seventh guy venture closer.
He’d obviously been watching and planning his moves accordingly, and he was a blur as he crossed the yard.
I side-stepped him and he paused to reassess before turning straight into my fist, but he wasn’t a one-shot guy.
He wobbled but answered me with a slam to my ribs.
He definitely knew what he was doing.
I defended against him as I moved forward, trying to get within striking distance of his throat. I just needed one good throat punch and he wouldn’t be a problem anymore. Not that I wanted to give away all my moves to anyone watching.
As his great weight landed on the ground with the other vampires who had yet to get back up, I waited.
Turning my back immediately was risky, but I faced away from the vampires I’d just taken out anyway, and all that happened was a low groan from one of the bodies on the ground and a slow, sarcastic clap from the deck.
“Started you off easy, boy,” Brock declared. “Things get tougher now.” He shoved Esmé’s shoulder. “Get down there and show him how we really fight.”
Panic flickered through Esmé’s eyes for a moment, and her mouth thinned, but then she straightened her shoulders and tipped her chin up, steel in her blue gaze. Now, this was a soldier, despite her almost fae-like appearance.
“You show him, Esmé,” Brock said again. “Decide if he’s good enough to be one of us or if you’re going to kill him.”
The determination in her gaze flickered again at the position Brock had just put her in, but I didn’t think she was about to let me have an easy fight.
I didn’t fight many women, and it wasn’t an activity I sought out, but I needed to be accepted into this group.
And I could make an exception for a bitch like Esmé.
After what she was putting Sam through, especially. I brushed that thought away. Sam didn’t belong in my head.
Whatever Esmé dished out, I could match. Hell. I could better it.
She met my gaze and smirked, sudden confidence seeming to blaze from her.
I shrugged. There was only one way this was going to go, regardless of how much faith Esmé put in her own skills, but I had time to play first. I let her get the first hit because it was the quickest way to judge her strength and speed.
It also lulled her into a false sense of security. She threw back her head and barked out a gleeful laugh.
“Maybe you were wrong about this one?” Brock called from where he was resting his forearms on the railing surrounding the deck.
“Maybe,” Esmé conceded, her eyes bright with amusement. “First time for everyth—” But she didn’t finish the word as my fist connected with her chin and the force of the blow sent her whirling away from me.
She recovered quickly, though, and sped around me to land on my back. “I’m not young like they were,” she murmured in my ear.
“No, but you do get yourself in some stupid positions,” I answered as I grabbed her shoulders and yanked her forward and over my head before slamming her onto the ground.
I couldn’t help but see Sam again as I gave Esmé what she deserved for treating a human so badly, and I pushed her out of my thoughts a second time.
This fight had nothing to do with the human thrall or how Esmé saw fit to treat her pets. This fight had one purpose only.
It was my way in.
I stepped toward Esmé again, to where she lay on the ground, but she was more twisted than I’d expected, and she groaned.
“Serves her right.” Brock laughed from his position. “Still, forget her now. I saved my best for last.” He straightened and turned toward the house. “Demon,” he yelled. “Get out here.”
The door slammed open, and a guy walked out. Big and cocky. Not as big as Brock. Maybe about Jason’s size, and he looked like he’d be at home as a center on a football team.
He thundered down the steps, but they held up under his huge stomps. I rolled my eyes at the showmanship even as I prepared for the inevitable hard hit of his first tackle. This guy had something to prove. He had a name to live up to, after all.
And he tried to prove it from the very first moment, when he crashed into me full on, our chests colliding. A crack sounded, and pain wound itself in a tight circle around my chest. Shit. He’d broken one of my ribs.
I readjusted my position to ease the pain and gave thanks that vampires didn’t need to actually breathe to stay alive. I didn’t need the agony of dragging air in and out of my lungs while I put this guy out of his misery.
Every blow I tossed out toward him, he matched. And every one he threw my way, I did the same. It was like fighting my own fucking reflection. If I hadn’t known better, I’d have thought he was a defector from Nic’s loyalists.
But something must have distracted him on the other side of the yard, and he glanced to his left. Not for long, but it was enough. It was my in.
I didn’t waste any time or tip him off by drawing my fist back. Instead, I slammed my forehead forward, cracking it against the bridge of his nose then following the move up with a flurry of punches designed to take advantage of his disorientation.
It worked, and he suddenly fell sideways, despite having given no sign he was losing consciousness. One moment, the lights were on, the next they were all the way out.
He had the heaviest landing so far, the loudest thud, and I half expected the ground to crack beneath him. Wiping blood from my cheek with the back of my hand, I turned to face the deck, my heart speeding at the sound of an unexpected cheer.
The tone was familiar, it spoke to me. I wanted to linger and listen to the owner of the voice. I sought her out, my gaze roaming the porch until it landed on the blaze of red hair. My chest tightened.
Sam was no longer captivated by her phone or sitting in the backseat of the car, but how the hell long had she been there, watching the fights? She certainly played the part of quiet, obedient human pet well. She grinned wide, and for a moment my heart lifted, and I almost smiled back.
It was like part of me remembered another lifetime.
A moment when I’d been carefree… when attraction could be answered, when love was possible.
Happiness filled me at the sight of her, before I clamped down on it, regaining control of myself in an emotional change of direction that almost gave me whiplash.
I redirected my gaze to Brock, staring him down, deliberately not even glancing at Sam now. There was a thoughtful look to Brock’s expression, like this wasn’t the outcome he’d expected, and his fingers tightened around the railing, his knuckles almost sticking out as shiny, white, raw bones.
More warm blood oozed down the side of my face, but I resisted the urge to wipe it away this time. “Am I in?” I all but growled the words.
I’d passed every single one of his fucking tests.
He glanced at Esmé, where she still lay on the ground, apparently waiting to heal enough to get up. Then he shook his head like he couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t straightforward denial, anyway. He let out a low growl but finally nodded.
Esmé made a noise that sounded partway between a sigh and another groan, and Sam returned to looking down at her phone, her face pale before she cast another nervous glance in Esmé’s direction.
I turned and surveyed the rest of the damage I’d wreaked. Looked like I was going to fit in just fine.