Bloodfever

I taunted, “Come and get me then.”

“How did you get out of your cell?”

“You left it unlocked,” I lied.

He considered that a moment. “There’s no way you could have moved. I broke both your legs. And your arms. How did you get the Unseelie?”

“The same way I spelled your little ‘refrigerator’ down there. I did a good job, didn’t I? You couldn’t get in. I know a little black magic of my own. You underestimated me.”

He studied me. He knew how powerful the spell on his larder was, and if I was capable of performing black magic to that degree, I was capable of a great deal. I felt him relax infinitesimally. “This makes things much more interesting. You know, I toyed with this idea. Now we’ll rot together. I’ll feed you more and stab you with your own fucking spear.”

Obviously he didn’t know it was missing yet. “Bring it on,” I purred.

He unfastened his robe and let it drop to the floor. His frothy lace shirt was badly stained. He was wearing stiff, tight leather pants, I suspected for the same reason he wore the stiff gloves. I needed him inside the cavern. Then Barrons would spell the exit and there would be no way out.

I did my boxer dance. “Come on, Johnny, let’s play.”

He lunged through the entrance with inhuman speed, and closed one of his stiff-gloved hands around my throat. I saw Barrons loom up behind him and shot him a wordless command: Don’t interfere.

I grabbed Mallucé’s wrist and kneed him in the groin with the strength of ten men. The flesh between his legs was too soft. My knee slid a few inches into his body.

“No feeling there, bitch,” he spat.

“What about here?” I punched him in the ear with all my strength. Blood spurted from his skull, and he reeled sideways and staggered. I watched the wound heal as quickly as it had opened. Would I do that?

I found out soon enough. He broke my nose. It reassembled itself. I nearly tore his arm from his shoulder. It dangled uselessly for a few moments then he punched me with it again, strong as ever.

“When I finish with you, bitch, I’m going to Ashford. Remember your little confession?” he taunted. “Telling me you had a mother there? Maybe I’ll keep you alive long enough to see what I do to her.”

I pummeled his hated face into a mass of bloody flesh. It would end here, now. Mallucé was never walking out of these caves again if I had to stay down here for all eternity killing him. He tried to rip my ear off. I almost bit him but thought twice, not exactly clear on vampire rules. I didn’t want his blood anywhere near my mouth. I kicked him in the knee. When it shattered and he went down I fell on him, kicking, punching, snarling.

I felt something inside me de-evolving, and I liked it.

Time lost all meaning to me. We were virtually indestructible machines. We beat each other senseless, long past the point of reason. I existed for one thing: to make him go down, stay down, and never move again. I no longer knew who he was. I no longer cared who I was. Things had deconstructed to the basest terms. Mallucé no longer even had a name or a face. He was Enemy. I was Destroyer. I understood only the imperative of battle, the appetite to kill.

I slammed him into the cavern wall. He smashed me into a man-sized stalagmite. It crumbled from the impact. I picked myself up and we crashed together again, punching, kicking, grunting.

Suddenly Barrons was between us, forcing us apart.

I turned on him, snarling, “What the hell are you doing?”

“You!” Mallucé looked stunned. “How did you get here? I left the cuff in the alley! There’s no way you tracked me!”

I stared at Barrons. How had he found me? “Stay out of this, Barrons! It’s my fight.”

Barrons caught me completely off guard with half a dozen rapid-fire punishing blows to my head and stomach.

I doubled over, dazed.

Mallucé laughed.

I was bent low, ribs cracking and rehealing for several seconds. My chest burned like a lung had been pierced.

Mallucé stopped laughing, with a strangled sound.

When I shot up, Barrons had Mallucé by an arm around his neck. He hit me again and I went right back down. Barrons had held back when he’d punched me before. Given me a love tap compared to what he was dishing out now.

The bastard did it to me three more times; each time I straightened, his fist pistoned into my face before I could even get all the way up. It felt like my brain was rattling in my skull.

The fifth time I rose, Mallucé was on the ground, unmoving. I could see why. His head was no longer attached to his shoulders. He’d killed him! Barrons had stolen my revenge, cheated me of the pleasure of destroying the one who’d nearly destroyed me!

I whirled on him. He was spattered with blood, breathing hard, head down, eyes narrowed, and fury was rolling off him in thick, dangerous waves. How dare he be furious with me? I was the wronged party! My battle was interrupted, bloodlust was bottled up inside me, a turbo engine revved to redline.

“The vamp was mine, Barrons!”

“Inspect his teeth, Ms. Lane,” he said tightly. “They were cosmetic enhancements. He was no vampire.”

I punched him lightly in the shoulder. “I don’t care what he was! It was my fight, you bastard!”

He punched me back with the same light, warning force. “You were taking too long to finish it up.”

“Who are you to decide how long is too long?” I gave him another tap in the shoulder.

He returned the blow with equal force. “You were enjoying it!”

“I was not!”

“You were smiling, bouncing on the balls of your feet, egging him on.”

“I was trying to end the fight!” I punched his shoulder, hard this time.

“You were way past trying to end it,” he snapped, punching me back. I nearly fell over. “You were prolonging it. You were glorying in it.”

“You don’t know what the feck you’re talking about!” I shouted.

“I couldn’t tell the difference between the two of you anymore!” he roared.

I smashed my fist into his face. Lies roll off us. It’s the truths we work hardest to silence. “Then you weren’t looking hard enough! I’m the one with boobs!”

“I know you’re the one with boobs! They’re in my fucking face every fucking time I turn around!”