Cain's Identity
Page 6
But John had failed guarding his king. Under his watch, the king had been assassinated. When Faye had seen the telltale ash and the signet ring on the floor—the remains of her lover—she’d accused John of neglecting his duty. He’d hung his head, accepting her hateful words in stoic silence, never even attempting to offer an excuse or apology.
She’d never understood why Abel hadn’t punished John. Had she been in the position to give orders, she would have demanded John’s execution for his failure to keep the king safe.
For a moment, she paused. Maybe Abel had a kinder heart than she gave him credit for, and she was the one who was bad for wishing to punish the leader of the king’s guard.
3
Amaury not only lived in one of the shabbiest neighborhoods of San Francisco, he owned an entire apartment building there, the penthouse of which he and his human mate, Nina, called home. When Cain had once asked his fellow vampire why he’d bought the property, Amaury had said that nobody else had wanted it and it had come cheap.
Cain now looked up at the six-story apartment building and noticed the light coming from the top floor. A broad shadow moved in front of one of the large windows, then a smaller one joined and the two melted into one figure. A second later they retreated from the window.
Cain didn’t have to wait long. It appeared that Amaury was just as eager to get this over with as he was. The sound of an opening door drifted to his ears, and an instant later Amaury emerged.
The bodyguard with the shoulder-length dark hair was built like a tank. Technically Amaury wasn’t a bodyguard anymore; he was a director of Scanguards but, despite his rank in the company, Amaury loved getting his hands dirty.
With a motion of his head, Amaury walked into the alley next to the building. Cain followed without a word, then stopped a few feet from where Amaury stood in front of a dumpster.
“What the fuck’s wrong with you?” Amaury asked without a greeting.
Cain pulled his shoulders back and broadened his stance instinctively. He was ready for this fight. “I don’t like your tone.”
“Guess we’ve got that in common. ’Cause I don’t like yours, either.” Amaury glared at him. “What happened to you? When we took you on, I thought we’d struck gold! Of all the bodyguards I know, you’ve turned out to be the one with the best instincts. As if it had been bred into you! And look at you now!”
Cain took a step toward him, balling his hands into fists. “Nothing’s changed!”
“The fuck it hasn’t! Ever since Oliver’s wedding three months ago, you’ve been slacking off! You don’t show up for your shifts. And when you do, you’re in a stinking mood!”
“My mood’s my business, not yours!” Cain ground out between clenched teeth.
Amaury narrowed his eyes. “It is when you turn into an insubordinate prick!” He flashed his fangs. “There are rules if you want to continue working for Scanguards. And you’d better be following them, or—”
Cain’s hand shot out by itself and slammed Amaury against the dumpster, as if somebody else had taken control over his body. “You think you can order me around?” Instinct told him that he wasn’t used to following orders. He was meant to give them.
Amaury pushed back, using both hands to catapult Cain against the wall of the building. “You listen to me now, you little shit! Samson and I agree on this. Either you follow the fucking rules, or you’re out. You understand me?”
So they’d all conspired behind his back. That was just perfect! Fucking perfect! “Fuck you, Amaury! Fuck all of you!” But just cursing Amaury wasn’t enough. Hurling the words at him didn’t give Cain the satisfaction he needed. Only one thing could do that now.
Cain brought his fist up and delivered an uppercut to Amaury’s chin, making the hulky vampire tumble back. He caught himself just as quickly and lashed a furious glare at Cain.
“You wanna fight? Fine,” Amaury bit out. “Let’s fight.”
Before the last word was even out, a fist slammed into Cain’s face, whipping his head sideways. Pain radiated through his body and made him feel more alive than he’d felt for the entire last year. It was a thousand times better than the numbness and void he’d been feeling.
With a growl, Cain aimed his fists at Amaury and delivered blow after blow. But the huge vampire was no willing punching bag. He gave as good as he got, alternating between kicks and blows. Despite his size, his opponent was more agile on his feet than anybody would have guessed.
Cain let his instincts take over. He’d known himself to be a remarkable fighter, but in this fist fight with Amaury, Cain sensed that his skills were superior to those of his boss. One thing that Amaury had said rang true: fighting had been bred into him. He was no novice, and he was proving it now by pummeling Amaury with his fists, kicking him with skilled and lightning-fast moves, while Amaury was forced into defense.
She’d never understood why Abel hadn’t punished John. Had she been in the position to give orders, she would have demanded John’s execution for his failure to keep the king safe.
For a moment, she paused. Maybe Abel had a kinder heart than she gave him credit for, and she was the one who was bad for wishing to punish the leader of the king’s guard.
3
Amaury not only lived in one of the shabbiest neighborhoods of San Francisco, he owned an entire apartment building there, the penthouse of which he and his human mate, Nina, called home. When Cain had once asked his fellow vampire why he’d bought the property, Amaury had said that nobody else had wanted it and it had come cheap.
Cain now looked up at the six-story apartment building and noticed the light coming from the top floor. A broad shadow moved in front of one of the large windows, then a smaller one joined and the two melted into one figure. A second later they retreated from the window.
Cain didn’t have to wait long. It appeared that Amaury was just as eager to get this over with as he was. The sound of an opening door drifted to his ears, and an instant later Amaury emerged.
The bodyguard with the shoulder-length dark hair was built like a tank. Technically Amaury wasn’t a bodyguard anymore; he was a director of Scanguards but, despite his rank in the company, Amaury loved getting his hands dirty.
With a motion of his head, Amaury walked into the alley next to the building. Cain followed without a word, then stopped a few feet from where Amaury stood in front of a dumpster.
“What the fuck’s wrong with you?” Amaury asked without a greeting.
Cain pulled his shoulders back and broadened his stance instinctively. He was ready for this fight. “I don’t like your tone.”
“Guess we’ve got that in common. ’Cause I don’t like yours, either.” Amaury glared at him. “What happened to you? When we took you on, I thought we’d struck gold! Of all the bodyguards I know, you’ve turned out to be the one with the best instincts. As if it had been bred into you! And look at you now!”
Cain took a step toward him, balling his hands into fists. “Nothing’s changed!”
“The fuck it hasn’t! Ever since Oliver’s wedding three months ago, you’ve been slacking off! You don’t show up for your shifts. And when you do, you’re in a stinking mood!”
“My mood’s my business, not yours!” Cain ground out between clenched teeth.
Amaury narrowed his eyes. “It is when you turn into an insubordinate prick!” He flashed his fangs. “There are rules if you want to continue working for Scanguards. And you’d better be following them, or—”
Cain’s hand shot out by itself and slammed Amaury against the dumpster, as if somebody else had taken control over his body. “You think you can order me around?” Instinct told him that he wasn’t used to following orders. He was meant to give them.
Amaury pushed back, using both hands to catapult Cain against the wall of the building. “You listen to me now, you little shit! Samson and I agree on this. Either you follow the fucking rules, or you’re out. You understand me?”
So they’d all conspired behind his back. That was just perfect! Fucking perfect! “Fuck you, Amaury! Fuck all of you!” But just cursing Amaury wasn’t enough. Hurling the words at him didn’t give Cain the satisfaction he needed. Only one thing could do that now.
Cain brought his fist up and delivered an uppercut to Amaury’s chin, making the hulky vampire tumble back. He caught himself just as quickly and lashed a furious glare at Cain.
“You wanna fight? Fine,” Amaury bit out. “Let’s fight.”
Before the last word was even out, a fist slammed into Cain’s face, whipping his head sideways. Pain radiated through his body and made him feel more alive than he’d felt for the entire last year. It was a thousand times better than the numbness and void he’d been feeling.
With a growl, Cain aimed his fists at Amaury and delivered blow after blow. But the huge vampire was no willing punching bag. He gave as good as he got, alternating between kicks and blows. Despite his size, his opponent was more agile on his feet than anybody would have guessed.
Cain let his instincts take over. He’d known himself to be a remarkable fighter, but in this fist fight with Amaury, Cain sensed that his skills were superior to those of his boss. One thing that Amaury had said rang true: fighting had been bred into him. He was no novice, and he was proving it now by pummeling Amaury with his fists, kicking him with skilled and lightning-fast moves, while Amaury was forced into defense.
