A Blood Seduction (Vamp City #1)(52)

She reached behind her head, running her fingers through his hair as she arched back into him, rocking, moaning, loving his touch. Gradually, she calmed. Slowly, he released her, turning her around to face him, pulling her back into his arms and kissing her with a passion that threatened to drive her up all over again. Until the water at her back began to turn cold.

Quinn gave a squeak and dove out of the water, looking at Arturo with dismay. "I haven't washed my hair."

His eyes were soft as he watched her. Infinitely warm. "Tip your head forward under the water, then shift toward me, and I'll wash it for you."

She did as he directed, enjoying the feel of his long fingers massaging her scalp before she shoved her head back under the now-chilly water for a quick rinse and repeat. When her hair was clean and clear of the fragrant shampoo, Arturo turned off the water, reached through the door for the towel, and wrapped her up snugly. How strange to feel taken care of by a vampire.

He towel-dried her hair, then helped her back into her clothes. As she pulled on her boots, he donned his shirt, not appearing to care that his pants were soaking wet.

A shriek split the air from one of the buildings nearby, a loud wail that had Quinn turning rigid as stone. "Not again."

"No one is being tortured."

"Sounds like it to me." She tied her second boot and rose.

"That is a cry of anguish, not pain."

"You know your screams."

His expression turned wry, but he took her hand and led her out of the shower shack, to a low, wooden structure that looked like it belonged in a campground packed full of day campers. He ushered her inside. The interior was open, furnished only with a couple of long trestle tables. Built into one wall was a huge stone hearth, unlit.

Firelight flickered on the walls from half a dozen lamps, and on the faces of half a dozen stricken women, one of whom was in full-blown hysterics.

Quinn watched as Kassius strode up to the group, grabbed the hysterical girl by the jaw in a grip that appeared surprisingly gentle, and forced her to look into his eyes. Instantly, she calmed, her tears ending, her expression falling into one of sleepy indifference. As a woman put her arm around the girl and led her away, the others followed, eyeing Kassius with an odd mix of fear and gratitude.

She glanced at Arturo and caught the look of pleasure on his face. "You're feeding."

"I am," he said unapologetically.

One woman remained behind, a woman with a thin, pinched face and the shimmering hair of a Slava, who eyed Kassius with a haughty belligerence. Kassius turned on her with a look that Quinn thought warranted a little fear.

"You enjoy the hysterics," Kassius accused her. "You should be one of us."

"They are weak."

He stared at her until she began squirming beneath his gaze. "Perhaps I'll recommend to the council that the next game's theme be dark-haired bitches."

She closed her mouth with a snap and whirled away.

Kassius growled low in his throat, then came to join them. "The Games," he spat. "They should be for warriors, not women."

Arturo shrugged. "They are what they are."

"You are too damned complacent, Ax!"

"And you care too much, Kas. You grow fond of them, and they die."

Kassius glanced at her. "And you don't?"

"Caring has never changed anything."

"I can't stop. Not anymore, though, gods, I wish I could." He turned toward the door and strode out, anger vibrating in every step.

"What just happened?" Quinn asked softly.

Arturo's expression told her she wouldn't want to hear it. And he was probably right. But Zack was caught in this place somewhere, and the more she understood, the better her chance of getting him back.

"I want to know. The truth, Vampire."

He frowned. "She's been chosen for the Games."

"Which means?"

He gave a snort of frustration. "One of Vamp City's prime selling points, over and above the fact that the sun never shines, is that it is a place where vampires can engage freely in our favorite sports."

"Which are?"

He met her gaze, warning her not to press. She stared at him, insisting he finish.

"The hunting, terrorizing, and torturing of humans."

Quinn shivered. "The Games." He was right. She didn't wanted to know this. "Tell me the rest."

Arturo swung away from her, staring at the cold hearth. "You are familiar with the gladiator games of ancient Rome?"

"Of course. At least superficially."

"Soon after V.C. was built, the coven masters joined together to build a coliseum, though on a far smaller scale. Once a month we hold the Games, often with different themes, though one thing remains the same. Humans fight. Humans bleed. Humans die. Each kovena sends a pair of their freshest slaves, humans who have not yet turned to Slavas, have not yet turned immortal. The girl who was crying had just been told she will be going, I suspect. Though it's possible someone close to her is to be sent."

Quinn stared at him. "So she'll be forced to fight. With no training? Will she even be given a weapon?"

"Sometimes yes, sometimes no. It depends on the whim of the organizers. The males chosen are often sent to a gladiator camp in the city for training. The second and third rounds are generally between at least minimally trained combatants and tend to be good fights. But the first round . . ." He shook his head.