After grabbing the weapon with my free hand, I moved back to the boxes and squatted down. Footsteps whispered across the silence again, this time from behind me. I padded forward, away from the steps, keeping low until I reached the end of the line of boxes. I felt for the top, noting that while it was high, it was still within my leap range, then threw the nunchakus as far and as high as I could. As they whirled through the air, I leapt on top of the box and made my way silently back along the top of them.
Tension filled the air, coming from the creature who was almost directly below me. The nunchakus hit something with a God-awful clatter, but no one reacted. Then again, the two men left in the room were, at the very least, professionals, and not likely to be scared senseless by an unexpected noise. I waited, watching the heat of the man below me until he finally began to creep around the end of the box.
I unrolled the belt, flicking the buckle end toward the back of his head. It hit hard, and he went down the same way.
One to go.
And I couldn't see him. Or rather, couldn't see the heat of him. Either he was hiding behind something toward the end of the room, or, like the black thing I'd felled, he was somehow invisible to infrared.
I jumped back down to the floor and walked across to the wall. There was no sense in trying to be quiet, as the person ahead was some sort of vampire, and he'd hear the beat of my heart no matter how quiet the rest of me was. But with my back to the wall, at least I cut off one avenue of attack.
The air stirred, washing the faint stink of vampire across my nose. This one obviously washed more than Gautier, but I was betting the closer I got to him, the more he'd reek. One of these days the morons were going to wake up to the fact that their refusal to wash was making them easy prey for those of us who hunted by scent, and I'd be in serious trouble. Hell, the only reason I knew Gautier was around most times was thanks to his ungodly stink.
The stirring air told me that this vamp was on the move. I kept making my way along the wall, moving past the stacks of boxes as quickly as I could. The vampire was in the center aisle between the two rows, moving back as I moved forward. Tension rolled through me—not fear, just a need to get this over with.
His move, when it came, was quick. So quick I didn't even see him, just got the faintest whiff of approaching death, then felt the force of his blow as it hit my chin. I reeled backward and half-fell, smashing my knee into concrete with enough force to bring on tears. Then he was on me, a whirlwind of strength and energy, his blows crashing into my body, my arms—anywhere and everywhere. After throwing up my right arm to block some of his punches, I flipped the belt buckle into my other palm and wrapped my fingers between the spider's metal legs, so that they stuck out like vicious little daggers. Then I punched hard and low. He obviously realized my intent, but he wasn't half as fast as he should have been. My blow drove deep into his dangly bits, and he dropped like a stone, wheezing for air and writhing in pain.
I took a shaky breath, then rose and replaced my belt. The lights came back on, and the door at the other end of the room clicked open. I remained near the wall until the last moment, just in case it was a trick, but no one jumped out at me.
I was barely out of the room when the stink of a vampire curled around me, so thick, so putrid, I gagged.
Only it wasn't just any vampire.
It was Gautier.
Chapter Six
I froze. What the hell was Gautier doing here? How had he gotten here? He might be a vampire by design rather than choice, but he was still restricted by the same rules all vampires faced. He wasn't old enough to be walking around in late afternoon daylight—and though he could certainly move around in a blacked-out van like Jack did, there was no way on earth he could have gotten into one without being seen or tracked by those watching him.
And Jack would have warned me. He might have faith in Liander's skills, but he still would have told me Gautier was on the loose in the estate, simply because he knew Gautier was the one person who could blow the whole mission wide open.
My gaze rose to that of my nemesis, but those muddy brown depths held none of the hatred, none of the sick evil that was usually so evident in Gautier's gaze. This wasn't him, but yet another clone, one who shared his image and his smell. Relief swept through my system, leaving me momentarily shaking. Some guardian I was.
Not that I was one. Not a kill-on-order one, not yet.
"That almost has to be a record for going through the course," he said. "How did you sense the vampire?"
I sniffed, feigning a confidence I didn't feel. "His scent gave his position away."
"And the spirit lizard?"
"What the hell is a spirit lizard?" I knew, but Poppy wouldn't have, so the question had to be asked.
"The black creature who first attacked you. How'd you sense him?"
"The hiss of air as he whirled the nunchakus." I studied him for a moment. "You the guide to the next stage?"
His smile had a decidedly nasty edge. "And the bearer of the final set of rules."
"More rules? Haven't we enough already?"
"Babe, the boss is paying you extremely well for your services, so you'd better get used to doing what he wants."
I guess he had a point. I shrugged.
"You have two choices of clothing during your time here. The overalls that you will find in your wardrobe, or your skin."
I raised my eyebrows, though I was neither surprised nor particularly worried. "You mean run around naked?"
His glaze slid down my body, then came back up to rest on my tits. He grinned. "And those would look pretty damn special without the hindrance of a bra."
Yeah, and he wasn't getting his mitts anywhere near my D-cups. I might be a wolf, but I did have some taste—and vamps who smelled worse than offal were definitely off my "to-do" list.
But I kept my mouth shut on that particular topic. Until I had more of a feel for who was who, it was better not to comment on anything, whether or not Poppy was a renowned mouth. He motioned me to follow him as he turned and headed for the door.
"Why the choice? Seeing we're getting paid big money to fight and have sex with your boss's lieutenants, I would have thought nakedness would have been a prerequisite. You know, a bit of viewing pleasure for those who can't touch."
He opened the door and ushered me into a long white hall. A polite stinker—not what I expected to find here. "Those who parade around in their skin are given the choice of saying no. Those who wear overalls aren't."
"That's not what military man said in the bus." Nor was it what Dia had suggested. But then, maybe she didn't socialize with the fighters, and therefore didn't know the entire truth. Which might also mean she didn't know the entire truth in other areas.
And wasn't that a fantastic thought?
He flashed me another nasty grin. "Didn't want you all leaving now, did we?"
"And the arena fighting is all naked?"
"And in mud." He hitched his pants in that way all men did when in the presence of a woman they were attracted to. "Very exciting."
"I bet," I said dryly.
We moved into another corridor, and from down the far end came raised voices. One of them was Berna's.
"Your quarters," he said. "You can pick who you wish to share with. We don't care."
"Cool."
"Dinner is at seven in the main dining room and is not optional. Other meals are." He stopped near the first door. "You are free to explore or use any of the facilities before and after the dinner show. Myself or one of the other guards will be here to escort you to the dining room at six forty-five. Don't be late."