Chapter Twenty-Three #2
If he faltered, if he’d caught even a single glimpse of her face, he would be finished.
Any distraction at this point would be fatal.
And he refused to give Sirius the pleasure.
So Drake kept his gaze fixed ahead, jaw locked and allowed only her voice to seep into his bones.
But he felt her above him, the burn of her eyes on him.
And by Christ, did it not take everything he had not to reassure himself he wasn’t bloody dreaming.
After this ordeal, he’d look at her day and night without pause.
He would memorize her the way a man memorizes a battlefield.
Every rise, every hollow, every place he would kill to hold and die defending.
None of that mattered if he went down again.
The fight was a bloody disaster. On the one hand, he wanted to preserve strength to snap that coward hiding behind this mountain’s bones. On the other hand, he needed to avoid being knocked out again.
Damn that cowardly dog.
The beast before him was built like an iron wall. He couldn’t win this fight cleanly. His head still rang and his body teetered treacherously close to another blackout. One more hard blow and he’d be down again.
“Where’s your bloody honor, heh?” Drake growled hoarsely. All things could be negotiated, no? “Fighting a beaten man.”
The arse snorted. “Honor?” He rolled his neck. “I fight for coin. That’s all.”
Well. Bloody hell.
Drake barked a short, humorless laugh. “Then you’re underpaid.” He shifted his stance to better avoid the next attack. “What if I give you ten times what they promised you?”
That got him a pause before he sneered, “You look like you have less than me.”
They circled each other. “You’re not from here, are you? I’m the richest man in Brighton.”
“You’re not noble. How can your purse be as fat? Do you take me for a fool?”
“No, I’m no noble,” Drake said. “Not the sort of riches my family deals in.”
“And what do they deal in?”
Drake smirked. “All the things the nobles do not.” For the most part. “Help me, and you have the vow of Furys to compensate you tenfold.”
The man’s eyes flicked, calculating. Greedy.
Drake held steady, trying hard to keep his gaze focused on his opponent, denying even the faintest flicker of panic. If he could be bought, there was hope. If there was hope, Violet might escape unscathed along with himself.
“You expect me to turn on my employer because you waggle promises?” the man said with open scorn.
The crowd was becoming impatient, shouting obscenities at them. “I expect you to recognize an opportunity,” Drake said evenly. “You walk away alive tonight, richer than you’ve ever been.”
A harsh laugh. “I’m walking away alive tonight either way.”
Drake inclined his throbbing head. “You may crawl, but I won’t be so confident about walking if you pass on my offer.”
The man’s eyes narrowed, weighing him anew. “Ten times, you said.”
“Ten,” Drake confirmed, and pressed his advantage. “Decide quickly.” The corner of his eye spotted a man pushing through the ring of the crowd, face twisted into a scowl. His gaze landed on Drake with naked distaste, as though Drake was a stain he had tolerated long enough.
Drake’s mouth curved into a savage smile.
Reginald.
This arse had finally made his appearance.
“What the devil are you doing, Baldwin?” Reginald barked at the fighter. “Set him on his damn knees again.”
Drake laughed, holding back a grimace when a sting of pain slung through his head. “There you are, dog. You really are a piece of work, letting another man fight your battles until you can step in for victory. You even rented a crowd for the occasion.”
“Fight!” someone from the ring of people shouted.
“Yes! Fight!”
More shouts rose, until it became a chant of bloodthirsty demand.
The dog stiffened. “You heard them,” he snapped to Baldwin. “Finish it.”
Drake scoffed. “Finish it?” He sent a mocking look to the man, ignoring the haze curling at the edge of his vision. “Done pretending?”
The dog’s lip curled. “I don’t dirty my hands with animals.”
You’re the animal, you arse.
“You should know,” Drake said, raising his voice to be heard over the chorus of the impatient spectators. “My brothers know who you are. Your comfortable life is coming to a bloody end.”
The dog took a step forward, fury alighting his scowl. “You insolent knave. You think yourself, your bastard brothers, impressive?”
“I think you’re a coward,” Drake replied calmly. “And I think you’ve gone to an extraordinary amount of trouble to avoid proving otherwise,” Drake taunted, stalling. “Bravo. Truly. Nothing says courage like an audience paid to cheer.”
“You are dead,” the dog growled, face contorting. He turned to Baldwin. “End him! Now! Or I shall have your life along with his!”
The big beast shrugged, advancing on Drake. “It’s nothing personal.”
Drake rolled his shoulders and shifted his stance. “Coin above honor.”
The crack of a pistol split the air.
Drake’s head whipped to the sound, and he staggered as dizziness overtook him. For a heartbeat, the rising chant choked off abruptly while the shot echoed off the walls. His focus sharpened again, and he smirked at the dog.
Someone bellowed, “Authorities!”
“Run, lads!” another voice shouted.
The room erupted in chaos.
Panic spread like fire on dry straw as people shoved for exits.
“Do not run!” the dog roared. “Guards! Guards!”
Heh.
The crowd no longer belonged to him. It had turned feral, survival eclipsing spectacle and even coin. Baldwin shook his head and stalked off.
Drake advanced on the dog, crossing the space between them in three long strides and caught the man by the collar. Surprise flared in the man’s eyes, just long enough for his mistake to dawn.
Drake drove his fist into his gut in three quick, decisive blows.
This was what he’d stored the last of his strength for.
The man went down the same way he’d gone down in London, choking on air.
So damn weak. He seized the man’s wrist and twisted.
A sharp, gratifying snap. A howl tore from the man’s throat.
Drake neither hesitated nor paused.
He took the other wrist and broke that one too.
Another howl split the air. Drake breathed in the sound like absolution. “Should I stop here,” he murmured, planting his boot against the man’s legs and driving down hard, “or break these as well?”
“You bloody bastard’s son! I will kill you!”
Drake smiled. “You had your chance; you’ll never get one again.”
A hand clamped onto his shoulder. “That’s enough, frère, we need to leave.”
Saint appeared before them. “I’ll take care of this one.”
Drake nodded. “I’m not leaving without Violet.”
“Dagger went for her, frère, you’ll see her soon enough.”
“There’s a man with her. We need to—”
“On it,” Knight said from behind him.
Drake glanced over his shoulder, but his brother had already vanished.
His gaze lifted to the platform above. Empty.
Damn it. He hated the thought of leaving without Violet at his side.
Every part of him wanted to see her, touch her, breathe her.
But he recognized that if he didn’t retreat now, he’d make a damn fool of himself a fourth time.
“How did you find us?” Drake grunted as Reaper hauled him toward the exit.
“Your man, Rook, sent word. And for once,” he added grimly, “you weren’t far wrong in your judgment of him.”
The chaos swallowed them whole, but Drake held fast to one certainty. Whatever came next, Violet had altered the course beyond retrieval.