Page 33 of The Firebrand
Neither gave ground. Rein balanced his weight between his sturdy legs, his muscles coiled, prepared for a little fist-to-fist action.
Chay rose, signaling for help. Galena and Tyr elbowed their way through the crowded bar.
Ram bumped Rein’s chest. In a flash, the vampire grabbed the satyr’s sweater, knuckle-slammed his jaw, and sent him flying into a pillar.
Long, sharp teeth jutted from Rein’s mouth. He growled. “Kole made her my responsibility until she gets home. Now take off.”
“You’re too close to the edge. She’s coming with me. Or Jez. Or Galena.”
Ram pushed off the column, his hands doing some fancy kung fu shit. Rein bobbed. The next swing came at him slo-mo, his vampire senses kicking in. He ducked.
Then other Firebrands got in the game. At Ram’s back, Tyr locked his elbows under the satyr’s armpits, towing him backward. Galena took Rein’s right side, snagging onto his upper arm, while Chay used the same maneuver on the left.
Both fighters broke free. Rein flashed behind the satyr, catching him in a chokehold. Ramach-ach-ached, trying to catch a breath despite the forearm crushing his windpipe.
Then he satyr-maced Rein. Galena and Chay jumped out of range. While the jeweled-up warlock Tyr fanned the air, he said, “Damn, man, I can’t believe you did that.”
Rein shook his head, his eyes watering, the surrounding oxygen saturated witholeoresin capsicum. He coughed while maintaining the deadly pressure on Ram’s neck. The skin on his arm, along with his optic orbs, burned like sonsabitches. Not only could satyrs sweat pheromones, but they could discharge short bursts of a defensive spray.
Once the vampire released Ram, he swiped at his eyes while trying to draw fresh air into his irritated lungs.
Despite the noxious fumes, Tyr wedged Ram’s arms behind his back. With him settled, Galena and Chay got solid holds on Rein.
“Take your fucking mitts off me.” Rein’s fangs filled his mouth, his words garbled.
Breathe. Breathe. Control.
“You all right, man?” Chay squeezed his mentor’s shoulder.
“Yeah. Fucking A-okay. Get him out of here before I waste his ass.”
At the same time, Tyr was mumbling in Ram’s ear, still grasping his arms. “Calm down. You know this is crazy, right?”
“Right. It’s…”
“What?”
Ram shook loose of Tyr. When he walked up to Rein, Chay and Galena tensed. Instead of going ape-man again, the satyr shot his palm forward. “I have bad shit in my head tonight. None of it your fault. No excuse.”
Rein squint-eyed the offer but shook, accepting Ram’s apology.
His gaze on Braelyn, Ram straightened his clothes before he sauntered away.
Releasing a hiss, Rein angled toward Chay. “Relax. I’m not going to kill him today. Tomorrow’s up for grabs. Somebody see the asshole home.” He flung himself onto the couch, downed his drink, clasped his hands under his neck, and dropped his head onto the cushions. When he closed his eyes, his biceps twitched.
What the fuck am I doing?
****
Braelynplayed a finger around the rim of her glass. Plunking the half-finished third drink onto the coffee table, she rolled her shoulders to unknot tense muscles.
Feelin’ re-re-re-laxed.
But no more booze. She was in a dangerous bar, sitting beside a man who sparked her female hormones. He had fought over her, although she was deciding whether she was flattered or a hunk of beef caught between a couple of hungry dogs. An ylve across the way was playing hide the sausage with two nymphs. She didn’t need to be Einstein to realize she shouldn’t go beyond buzzed.
Rein’s eyes were closed, his massive chest rising, sinking. Rising. Sinking. No man should be allowed his raw sex appeal.
Braelyn twisted onto her hip, leaning toward her kidnapper, fingering the tattoo on his enormous ropy bicep, tracing the colorful feathers that extended beyond his shirt sleeve. “What is this?”
