Gavin heard him say, "There’s the vicious old fucker I remember."
Gypsy yelled at Gavin to stop, but it was too late. Gavin wanted to fight anyone who was willing, and Kharon was more than willing. He ducked to the side just in time to avoid being tackled to the floor. Instead the commander ended up hurling himself into the now empty booth.
Kharon recovered quickly and threw him a look that screamed savagery and vile hatred. Gavin couldn’t have been more pleased. Finally, they were getting somewhere. Unsheathing his sword and tossing it over toward Desmond he held out his arms in welcome.
“You want me, slave boy? Come and get yourself some. You’re no match for me.”
Everyone in the bar was shouting. Gypsy begged them to stop, but the crowd was screaming for them to fight. Desmond leaned against the bar, sipping his drink and watched with pure amusement gleaming in his eyes.
Filthy bastard, Gavin seethed. I’m sure he’s already placed a bet on Kharon. But Gavin didn’t really care. None of it really sank too far into his liquor soaked brain. The only thing he was thankful for right now was that Harlan had stayed home.
With their youngest child missing and possibly dead he just couldn’t face her bottomless sorrow on top of everything else. He’d tried ordering her to return to the Queendom for her safety, but she refused. Harlan was going to stand with her family no matter what the outcome.
The agony of her potential fate disturbed him the most. Death ended pain, but life could prolong it for as long as it wanted. The thought of his wife at Megolyth’s mercy and subjected to his lust tormented him. As long as he was alive, he could purge his pain through violence, and that’s what he intended to do now. He wanted blood and if it came from Kharon, even better.
A dominant growl rumbled in Kharon’s throat. It echoed with hatred so pure and devouring, Gavin knew Kharon may not stop until one of them was dead. That suited him just fine.
When Kharon took another step to charge, Gypsy was suddenly there standing with her arms stretched out between them. There was a collective groan from the crowd but no one left. They knew with Gavin involved there would be more drama to come. Gavin understood Gypsy was cracking under the pressure of the challenge, but right now he was too absorbed in his own misery for it to matter. Although neither he nor Kharon wanted to hurt her, they stood about five feet apart, as tense as two armies ready to attack.
Gypsy graced each of them with a hateful glare. “If you two fucking assholes want to beat each other to death, then go ahead. But just so you know, this is exactly what I don’t need. What I need is for you both to stop your battle of egos and train me to win. Because if I don’t win this match we all end up dead!”
Gavin’s eyes remained locked with Kharon’s as Gypsy dropped her arms. She’d said her piece. “I’m leaving. The two of you can kill each other for all I care. That’ll leave two less executions for Megolyth when all of this is done.”
With that she marched out of the bar. Before the bar door had even swung closed, Kharon tackled Gavin. The impact was like being hit by a runaway coach. It knocked the breath from his lungs and sent them both crashing onto a table, which collapsed under their combined weight, spilling them onto the floor. Gavin’s boots scraped against wood as he tried to regain his footing. By the time he found purchase, Kharon had smashed his fist into Gavin’s face three times.
He threw him off and something primitive in Gavin’s mind switched on. The world around him faded away. In those minutes of explosive violence, the crowd was gone and only he and Kharon existed. It became a routine both of them had danced before, a choreography of animal survival honed over hundreds of years of victory and defeat. They clawed and tore at each other, lost in the passion to kill, it was as deep an emotion as any love they had felt for anyone.
It didn’t take Gavin long to realize Kharon was not nearly as drunk as he. During their chaotic brawl on the floor, Kharon punished Gavin with pounding fists that felt like iron and several brutal kicks to the abdomen. Then Kharon rose up off the floor and came down on Gavin’s side with his knee. There was a snap and immediate pain. The sound of Gavin’s ribs cracking was so loud a startled gasp rose from the spectators. The suffering was electric, making Gavin even more psychotic. He tried to sit up but the searing agony in his side made all of his muscles clench, causing him to double over instead. This fight was lost.
Kharon leaned down. When he spoke, it was through his teeth. “If my wife dies in the arena next month, I am going to get down on my knees and beg the emperor for one last thing before I’m killed. Do you know what that one last thing is going to be, Gavin?”
Gavin spit blood on Kharon’s armor. The big, nasty wad ran down in a viscous rivulet. He smiled through the blood in his mouth.
“Don’t tell me, let me guess. Could that one last thing be a final suck on the emperor’s scrotum, Kharon?”
Kharon smiled wickedly. “No, Gavin. It will be for the privilege of carving your head off with a dull three-inch knife. Just to be sure that you feel every tiny bit of it.”
Gavin was about to spit another mass of blood right into Kharon’s face, but the commander’s boot came down on his face instead. After that, everything fell into blackness.
Chapter 29
The Academy practice arena was dimly lit by a few service lights that were left on for safety reasons. At this late hour, Gypsy was the only one here and that’s how she wanted it to stay. Sitting atop the highest bleacher in the darkest corner, she closed her eyes. It didn’t stop the river of tears. Placing her face in her hands, she noticed they were still shaking and had been since her conversation with Augustus. A few silent sobs racked through her.
The entire afternoon she’d barely been able to cage the grief that was eviscerating her from the inside out. She remained stoic when she told her family of the Grand Duke’s plan but it was a delicate containment. Now it was after midnight and she had finally achieved some much needed solitude. She’d hoped that having a good, hysterical cry by herself would make her feel a little better. It didn’t. Nothing made her feel better.
My sister is probably dead. Megolyth is going to butcher me in a gleeful bloodbath and then murder everyone I love. I’ll bet he can’t wait to kill me, especially with Gavin watching.
Gavin…
Gypsy was so pissed at her father and husband right now, she didn’t want to see or speak to either of them. She was madder at Gavin than Kharon. It was so fucking typical of him to get drunk, fall apart and pick a fight at positively the worst time. Sometimes she didn’t know how her mother had the strength to put up with him and his crap all these years.
Kharon wasn’t exactly on her list of favorite people either. It wasn’t as though he had just met Gavin and was ignorant to how despicable his personality became when things weren’t going his way. Kharon should’ve known better. He knew how desperate their situation was, yet he allowed her father to bait him to violence rather than just walk away.
I hope they both end up in the infirmary, so I don’t have to deal with either one of them tomorrow.
Hearing one of the heavy metal doors slam shut, Gypsy felt a bubble of fury that someone had found her. She rested her elbows on her thighs and hung her head between her knees, trying to make herself smaller. If she didn’t make any noise, maybe they wouldn’t see her and go away. Though it was rare for cadets to spar this late at night, it wasn’t unheard of.
There was a soft jangle of spurs, but it didn’t give any hint of who it was. The chimes stopped for a moment when they reached the bottom of the steps. She kept her head down hoping whoever it was would take the hint and get lost. Nope. Whoever it was began ascending the steps.
Gypsy didn’t have the strength or initiative to move so she just focused on the sounds made by the unwanted visitor’s gait. It was a slow, steady scraping of boots on stone. There was no speed or intensity, just the familiar stride of a relaxed shuffle. Before she even looked up she knew it was Desmond. Of anyone who could find her, he was
the least likely to upset her.
“The senior matches don’t start until six in the morning. You’re a little early and your choice of seating sucks,” he said as he sat on the bench next to her.
“How’d you find me?”
“Really? Me? I am the undisputed champion of not wanting to be found. No one can hide from me.”
A brief smile blossomed on her lips. Sometimes she loved her brother more than anyone else in the world. Most of the time his dry, sardonic humor irritated her, but not tonight. Tonight he was the only one who had any chance of making her feel better. Remarkably he could do that with very few words. Sitting up, she leaned to the side resting her head against his bicep. Neither said a word for a long time. Then she sniffled.
“Don’t wipe any of your weepy snot on my uniform, okay?" he said playfully swatting at her head.
Despite the agony in her heart she laughed anyway. It felt good. “I’m afraid to ask how the fight ended.”
Desmond shrugged. “Kharon is unmarked and Gavin got a well-deserved beating. Your rat bastard of a husband was so pissed he walked out leaving me to carry that enormous fucker Gavin to the infirmary. At least he was unconscious for a while. When he woke up, I left. I imagine that right about now he’s threatening the medics to destroy his treatment record and keep the injuries from your mom.”
“Is he going to be okay?”
With a combination laugh and snort, Desmond stared at her incredulously. “You don’t really believe a little drunken bar fight is going to be Gavin’s undoing. This intoxicated miscalculation will leave his body and ego nice and sore for a while. That’s all. Really, kid, he’s fine, just a few broken ribs and a lot of hurt. Besides it feels good to see Gavin get his ass kicked. Your husband should be in a great mood for doing it. He probably feels as good as Gavin feels bad.”
Gypsy gave a short laugh and roughly wiped her eyes. Desmond had done the impossible. With his casual banter he’d eased Gypsy’s pain enough for her to finally stop crying, talk and even laugh. Only a few knew how truly smart he was.
They fell into a comfortable silence. She stared down at the arena floor and he rested his elbows on the bleacher’s backrest with his head tilted back and his eyes closed. Neither of them said anything for close to an hour. It was nice. One of her brother’s best qualities was that there was never any pressure to carry on a conversation. They could’ve sat there for the rest of the night, saying nothing, and she would have felt better. But they needed to talk or rather she needed to listen. Desmond never softened important blows and Gypsy really had to hear what he thought of this whole situation.
“I am so screwed. What am I going to do?” she whispered.
With no hesitation, he simply said, “You’re going to win.”
Turning sideways on the bench to face him she read his face, looking for any signs of humor. There were none. “You say it like it’s a foregone conclusion, like it’ll be easy.”
“Easy? Oh no, little sister, this isn’t going to be easy. Your win will be a brutal journey through pain, injury, and exhaustion. Megolyth isn’t some Draconian pit fighter or junior officer. He’s had centuries of the best training and battle experience one can get. You may as well be fighting a younger version of Gavin, though few fighters have our father’s ferocity. This will be the longest, most important fight of your life. The only downside is that you won’t be allowed to kill him, unless you have to.” He gave her a knowing wink.
“So I’ve been told," she grumbled.
“As much as I’d orgasm over seeing him die, you need to let him live if you can. Gavin may not grasp the depth of Augustus’ thinking, but I do and I’m guessing you do too. Just a word of advice; don’t play any fuck-fuck games with this opponent.” He chuckled at his own joke.
And there was the jab. How she hated her brother for taking such great joy in teasing her about her mistake. At least he could take the same rough ribbing he so loved to dished out.
Gypsy returned her attention back to the arena floor. “You are such an asshole.”
Desmond slid his left arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. He leaned his lips to her ear. "You, dear sister, have an advantage that no one else is aware of, least of all Megolyth. Do you know what that is?”
Sighing but enjoying the comfort of his embrace she replied, “No, and right now I could really use some form of hope.”
“Only if you keep your mouth shut until I’ve finished.”
Desmond could either be the beautiful oasis or the barren desert, depending on his mood. So she chewed her lower lip and waited with a nod of agreement.
“I have been stuck training with that royal nutcase since I beat him in a match for Scarlet in less than fifteen minutes. All of our sessions were pure emotional torture for me because I knew he could take Scarlet back anytime he wanted. Fortunately for me at the time he assumed I hated Gavin. And why shouldn’t he? Almost all Gavin’s offspring despise him. When Gavin was arrested the first time I did my best to appear neutral. That’s why he left me alone. Megolyth sort of trusted me so I didn’t do anything to escalate his paranoia.”
Before he could continue Gypsy interrupted. “Why did he trust you? You were Gavin’s son after all and a soldier in his army. That alone should’ve been enough to throw you in prison.”
“True enough. But it was slightly more complicated than that. Anyway, after Gavin’s first arrest, I had a good idea of what the future held even after his release. Once Megolyth found out the soldiers swore loyalty to Gavin instead of the crown, I knew it wouldn’t take long for things to deteriorate. That was when I began to manipulate Megolyth’s training. I stopped correcting his deficiencies. Most of them are minor details in technique and tactics, nothing anyone but me would notice but it makes him vulnerable. Unfortunately, it doesn’t make him less dangerous, but if I teach you what to look for, it could make the difference. I’ve also nurtured a few of his bad habits, without him noticing. Again, it won’t make the match any easier, but when he reveals his flaws to you—and he will—you may be able to knock a pin or two out from under him.
Gypsy turned back to face him. “Well at least that’s something. It might give me a slight edge.”
“When did you say the match is?”
“One month from today. Augustus said he tried to barter for more time, but Megolyth wouldn’t budge. I guess he was pretty appalled I was his opponent,” she said scowling.
Desmond rubbed his face and squinted up at the ceiling lights with grim concentration. Then he gave her a casual shrug. “That may work to our advantage as well. After the debacle of today’s match with Falken, he might just underestimate your combat prowess. An opponent who doesn’t respect his adversary can leave himself open for defeat.” He seemed far off for a long time, then he nodded, more to himself than her. “Yes, I think you might’ve done yourself some good with today’s exhibition of what a pathetic swordsman you are.”
Gypsy threw her hands up exasperated. Great. He’s as crazy as Augustus! “You actually think I have a chance?”
“Look, this is how I see it. Megolyth has been living off the fat and pleasures of boars and whores for close to thirty years. With the exception of some earlier campaigns he hasn’t done much fighting, other than with sparring partners. Don’t misunderstand me. He is well trained and has a shit load of experience, but at this moment he is out of shape and out of practice. Even though he’s still less than middle aged, you are younger and faster. Megolyth did you a favor scheduling the match this soon. If he’d given you six months to prepare, then he would’ve had the same six months and you can bet your ass that he would have spent every second of that time training. By the time the match came, he’d be at the top of his skills and we don’t want that.”
Pushing her fingers into her hair, she grabbed a handful in frustration. She thought about running away but knew escape was impossible. “Yeah, but one month? I don’t know Desmond. I see what you’re saying, but I’d still rather have more time. The
way things are now, it feels like a suicide mission.”
“Listen, I know this guy. I’ve been sparring with him for the better part of a year. If none of this shit had happened and Megolyth came to me and said he needed to be ready for a throne challenge in a month, I’d have laughed in his face. His ego is still living thirty years ago, when he beat opponent after opponent to win the throne in the first place. Back then that was an impressive feat. But it takes dedication and discipline to maintain that kind of physical and mental skill. You know how hard challenges are. When you come back from leave, it feels like you’ve taken two steps back. It can take weeks to get your head back in the fight. And that’s true of everyone. Tell me I’m wrong.”
Gypsy conceded with a nod and a wave of her hand. "Okay, so you have a point. We have some hope. I’ll try and look at this short prep time as a good thing.”
“Trust me. You’ll come to see I’m right. And after you beat that pompous ass you’ll only owe me your soul,” he said laughing.
She felt a little better. “So how come you never told Gavin about your slack training methods?”
“My priority was always to maintain Megolyth’s trust for as long as possible. I couldn’t risk a drunken slip of the tongue or some angry accusation from our father. After spending so much time with the emperor, it became clear to me his only drives are sex and domination. He no longer cares what’s in the best interest of the empire.”
“Seriously? You were concerned about the future of the empire?”
He was thoughtful for a moment. Fortunately, over the last few months she’d learned the value of patience, so she waited.
“I never said I wasn’t interested in the future of the empire. But my interest only extends to the safety of my family, and yes, I guess that includes Gavin to some extent. Megolyth and I have played this weird loyalty game for a while now. It started at one of our training bouts. He unexpectedly shared a secret with me. Even though I’ve always held it, I know he regretted telling it to me. I’m sure he’s wondered through all the things he’s done if I was going to spill that secret.” A devilish smile spread across his lips. “But so far, I never have.”
Devoured Innocence Page 19
