Night Marks Read Free Page A

figure out myself. What is your favorite color?” he questions.
    “Black,” I reply. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that one out. “What is yours?”
    “Red. Favorite weapon?” he asks.
    “Depends on the situation and the person it is being used against. For all around effectiveness I would probably pick my flamethrower. I don’t use it often, but if I am looking to kill something, it tends to be the best option. Burn them to a crisp and then take off the head. For close hand-to-hand, I have a couple daggers I really like. I call them Helen and Clytemnestra. I have another set named after their brothers, but I prefer the girls,” I explain.
    “You have named your daggers after people in Greek mythology. Interesting. What is your favorite food?”
    “Rare beef. Cut doesn’t matter, too much,” I answer. “What exactly do you do?”
    “I imagine you mean as an occupation and not what I do for the resistance. These days I do nothing. I am independently wealthy and am devoting all my time and resources to bringing the Collective down,” he replies. “I go into ‘work’ every day, but it is mostly just strategy meetings and sharing of the most recent intel.”
    Great. One of my little ‘mates’ runs an army and the other runs a sex house. Fate picked me a couple winners.
    “I thought you were staying in Emerald Town to tie up business issues, before moving to be closer to me,” I say curious.
    “Business in the sense that I was working to rearrange the troops and make sure people under our protection were being cared for in my absence,” he explains.
    “How old are you?” I ask.
    “Fifty-five,” he replies glancing over to gauge my reaction.
    Already knowing werewolves can live to be a couple centuries old, it doesn’t really surprise me that he is over twice my age. It’s nothing compared to Sebby’s and my age difference.
    “You are just a baby,” I say jokingly as I pinch his cheek.
    “I can assure you there is nothing ‘baby’ about me,” he says smirking.
    He pulls into a packed parking lot and drives to the front of the arena. Stopping at the entrance, he puts the car in park and gets out. A valet opens my door and holds out his hand to help me exit the Camaro.
    “No touching,” Alex says making it to my side, batting the valet’s hand away from mine.
    I ignore them both and step out of the car. In the last few weeks, I have learned just how childish boys can be.
    “So, do you have a list of which menfolk are allowed to touch because I spar with the guards and Sebastian all the time. There is a lot of touching that goes on then,” I say as he grabs my hand and leads me towards the entrance.
    “Yes, there is a list and it is very short. Both Sebastian and I agreed on it when all of this started. We want your physical contact with others kept to a minimum.”
    At the door, he hands over a couple tickets and the ticket taker points to a sign that says “No weapons on the premises for the match”.
    “That better not apply to me,” I say glaring at the guy. “I didn’t even bring my full arsenal.”
    “He must be new,” Alex says trying to soothe me. “Since your other boyfriend owns the arena, I am sure you will be allowed in armed.”
    “Hey, I am just doing what I am told. The boss says no weapons allowed tonight and I am here to enforce it,” the man says. I would love to see him try to “enforce” anything with me.
    The man is really a vampire, and a relatively new one at that. I have been cultivating a new skill where I can sense the energy levels off other vampires and that helps me gauge how old they are. It is kind of nifty and very helpful.
    “Which boss are you reporting to tonight?” I ask.
    “Marcus Turner is running the fights,” he replies.
    “Good. I am very close with Marcus, would you mind calling him and telling him Nyx is outside and would like to have a chat with him,” I say grinning.
    “Wait, you are Slaughter? No need to make