Suddenly, Max seems far more dangerous in his dress shirt and trousers than Lucian does in the blood-soaked shirt he wears.
Max directs his fiery gaze one last time to me. He holds me there with a promise. Max intends to win.
He then turns his focus on the man standing a few steps from him. Lucian bobs back and forth, placing most of his weight back on his heels. Max carries himself differently. Shifting forward. Readying himself for battle.
“Fight to the death!” The cry comes out from the crowd.
To the death.
My breaths accelerate as panic sets in. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to watch this. One of these men is going to die, and I pray to God it’s not Max.
But there’s not a damn thing I can do about anything.
Twenty-Three
Max
All it takes is a shout to send Benefield’s man crashing toward me. He slashes with his knife, a burst of energy that will wear him out. Unless he gets me with that blade of his first.
Not that I’m worried. We trained for this as operators during my team days and again as a Guardian.
Lucian’s technique is sloppy.
Mine’s spot on.
While he slashes wildly with his knife hand, I grapple with his arm, twisting and putting pressure on the nerves until his grip fails and the knife drops. I should cut him right there, but he slips out of my grasp.
With a kick, I send his blade skittering off to the side before he can grab it again. Pissed I disarmed him so quickly, Lucian launches a burst of punches.
He’s fast, but he’s not fast enough. I counter his punches with hits of my own, moving at a blinding speed. I slice across his bicep, but it does nothing to slow him down.
My hope is to knock him out in the first minute. Claim my victory. And get the hell out of Dodge.
Knox is already in communication with our team, moving up our rescue by a day. With luck, we’ll be out of this place before dawn.
I miss a block, opening myself to an attack. Lucian gets his hands on me, lifts me off my feet, then slams me back-first down to the ground.
The only reason he doesn’t knock me out is because I tense my abs on the way down, keeping my head from smacking the hard stone, but I lose my blade in the process.
Lucian wastes time looking for his knife. In that half second, I draw in my knees then kick out, launching myself up to land on my feet. A quick spin puts me behind Lucian, where I wrap an arm around his throat in a chokehold.
Lucian rears back with his elbows, trying to hit me in the solar plexus. I brace for the impact and absorb the pain. It feeds my fury.
My opponent’s arms turn sluggish as I deprive his brain of oxygen. The sound of metal scraping on stone grabs my attention. Lucian wraps his hand around the hilt of his knife. He jabs back, slicing across my thigh.
Ignoring the sting, I don’t let the injury slow me down.
Lucian staggers. He gains his feet. Death fills his face, but I don’t care. We’re matched in strength, but my skill surpasses his. He’s going to figure that out pretty damn soon.
We crash together. I disarm him for the second time as we trade a burst of punches, but not before he slices across my chest. More pain that I ignore.
Hit. Smash. Crunch.
I shove the palm of my hand against his nose. Cartilage and bone give way.
Lucian howls. He drops his blade and holds his bloody nose. It’s the perfect opportunity to get in a few more hits. I dodge his next blow. Deflect a kick. I jab upward and connect with his chin.
He screams in pain and spits out a wad of blood. He staggers as he comes at me, sneering as he attacks again.
The force of our blows intensifies. The brutality of the fight turns deadly. Initially, I thought to spare his life. Now, I just want this to end.
Hit. Crunch. Smash.
I get in another punch to his jaw. As his head whips back, I grab his shoulders, steadying him for a knee jab to his solar plexus. Once. Twice. He staggers back, but the bastard doesn’t go down.
He shows no sign of giving up. Not that I blame him. Victory or death are the only two paths out of this.
He comes at me, swinging. I block out the pain from the few hits he manages to land. Someone kicks the knife back into play, but I kick it back. I don’t need a weapon to kill this man.
A snarl fills Lucian’s face. It’s lopsided and comical, considering all the bruising and swelling on his face. Not to mention the weird angle of his nose.
He and Benefield are pure scum. Neither deserves to breathe, but I only get to end one life tonight.
Lucian’s technique isn’t disciplined. From the way he moves, he learned everything on the streets. In those fights, raw strength prevails. I don’t fight like that. I fight with my heart and the knowledge I’m on the side of greater good.
But the thing that will win this fight is my instinct to protect and defend. Eve is all that matters. Getting her out of this hellhole drives every kick, powers every jab, and lands each and every punch.
Pressure builds in my muscles as I tense to deliver a killing blow. Lucian stumbles toward me.
I grab him and lift, twisting him around. Back to the ground, I power bomb him, dropping him over my thigh. His back snaps and his body goes limp. The bastard still breathes, but he’s paralyzed from the waist down. Maybe higher. There’s no movement in his arms.
I stand and take two steps back as the courtyard falls silent.
Lucian stares at me, surprise etched in his face. His labored breathing is not quite right. More than likely, he won’t survive the night.
“You have to kill him.” Benefield walks into the center of the courtyard. He stares down at his man then hands me a knife. “Those are the rules.”
I take the knife from Benefield and spit on the ground. “Not my fucking rules. I’m taking my woman.”
Benefield’s eyes narrow. A moment passes between us. Rage fills his expression, then bleeds away as if it was never there in the first place. Benefield’s dispassion is scarier than his anger.
Who flips a switch on their emotions like that?
A madman, that’s who.
Benefield calls out. “The bitch belongs to him.”
I head to the pole where Eve’s strung up. Her eyelids flutter and she slowly focuses on me. I take the knife and cut her down.
I barely wrap my arms around her before she collapses, falling over my shoulder. Knowing all eyes are on me, I can’t do the one thing I crave above all else.
I can’t be gentle.
I glare at Benefield. “Give me the key to her shackles.”
Benefield looks to one of his men and gives a nod. That man fishes out a key and hands it to me. I shove it deep in my pocket, making sure everyone sees. Then I march out of that damn courtyard with Knox falling in step by my side.
Behind me, Lucian takes his last breath.
I wish it had been Benefield. I’ve killed men before. Vile, despicable men who deserved death. I’ve killed with bullets, knives, and my bare hands. But I’ve never killed to save the life of a woman I cared about.
No escaping the emotions raging within me. I’ll do anything to keep Eve safe. My chest squeezes with that realization.
While I don’t have a claim on Eve, she is mine. I’ll always think of her that way. As for what she thinks of me, I can only imagine the hatred flowing in her veins.
“Do you want me to carry her?” Knox steps alongside me as we retreat to the suite.