Free No Rest for the Wicked by Kresley Cole Page B

studiously bored as she flicked her hand at Mariketa the Awaited. Mariketa was supposed to be one of the most powerful born into the House of Witches in generations and apparently was here to compete even though she couldn’t be more than twenty-two years old or so.
    Not that you could tell her age from her appearance—she wore a hood and a cloak and a glamour spell so thick it seemed shellacked on her. Which made Kaderin wonder what kind of visage she was hiding.
    The girl answered, “I can’t practice in another’s temple.”
    Without the Hie, half of Kaderin’s life’s purpose would disappear. She sighed wearily, then drew her sword from the sheath at her back as she dropped down. She sauntered casually to the fight and dived down, springing up between them with her arms outstretched, her sword pressed into Bowen’s chest, her claws positioned at Sebastian’s throat.
    Bowen snarled, pressing forward into the point. “Get the fuck out of the way, Valkyrie. Clear eyes or no’, do you no’ ken what he is?”
    Sebastian traced out of her grasp to her side, then shoved her behind him. He kept his arm back and against her, leaving himself exposed to Bowen. She was so surprised by the gesture that she allowed it, hiding a frown behind his broad back.
    But then Bowen lunged, clenching his hands around Sebastian’s neck to twist his head off. Sebastian used his free arm to go for Bowen’s throat, refusing to remove the arm at her side.
    Which made her want to crack a grin.
    A male guarding her. How… novel.
    She shook herself and clutched Sebastian’s protective arm to lean out from behind him. “Bowen, you’re fighting in Riora’s temple,”
    she said. “If you continue this, you risk the Hie.” Beneath her fingers, Sebastian’s muscles were tensed from the fight, his body thrumming with power and heat. Seemingly helpless to stop herself, she inched closer to him, enjoying the hell out of his scent.
    Now he bent his arm back to bring her in to his body.
    Why wasn’t she fighting him?
    “I doona understand you, Kaderin,” Bowen bellowed.
    She leaned to the side again. “No competition. She’ll take it away.”
    “She would no’ do that. No’ over the death of a vampire.”
    Kaderin nodded, and strangely, Bowen’s eyes went even more wide and wild, turning to the ice-blue color of his beastly form. He released Sebastian, his flattened palms shooting up. He seemed to curse himself in Gaelic.
    A Lykae eager to end a fight before a kill? And while a vampire still had his throat clutched in a death grip? This was indeed a week of firsts.
    “Let him go, Sebastian,” Kaderin said. “You must.”
    “Finish this,” Sebastian demanded of Bowen, biting out the words.
    Bowen just wiped his face on his sleeve. “I will no’. No’ now.” As soon as Sebastian released him, he backed away, hands still raised.
    She couldn’t imagine that Bowen had ever backed down from a fight before. He was a proud alpha male, and he’d been trained from childhood to kill vampires. How much he must want this prize.
    Bowen dropped back into the shadows, eyes glowing.
    When Sebastian moved to follow him, she said, “No, you have to let him go.”
    Sebastian turned to her, and she had to stifle a wince at finding that he was insufferably sexy fresh from the fight. His muscled chest heaved with exertion and was marked with bravely earned injury.
    Too bad he won’t scar, she thought, sheathing her sword.
    “You desire me to let him go?” With a brief glance down at his ghastly injuries, he said calmly, “I tend to punish slights like these.”
    Such an understatement rumbled in his deep voice.
    He’d held his own against Bowen. And had been ready for more.
    Warrior. Immortal. I’ve never made love to an immortal.
    Sebastian’s gaze kept flickering over her, as though still starved for the sight of her. Without warning, he grasped her arm and traced her to the darkened balcony once more.
    “Don’t ever put yourself in