Time lost all meaning to me. We were virtually indestructible machines. We beat each other senseless, long past the point of reason. I existed for one thing: to make him go down, stay down, and never move again. I no longer knew who he was. I no longer cared who I was. Things had deconstructed to the basest terms. Mallucé no longer even had a name or a face. He was Enemy. I was Destroyer. I understood only the imperative of battle, the appetite to kill.

I slammed him into the cavern wall. He smashed me into a man-sized stalagmite. It crumbled from the impact. I picked myself up and we crashed together again, punching, kicking, grunting.

Suddenly Barrons was between us, forcing us apart.

I turned on him, snarling, “What the hell are you doing?”

“You!” Mallucé looked stunned. “How did you get here? I left the cuff in the alley! There’s no way you tracked me!”

I stared at Barrons. How had he found me? “Stay out of this, Barrons! It’s my fight.”

Barrons caught me completely off guard with half a dozen rapid-fire punishing blows to my head and stomach.

I doubled over, dazed.

Mallucé laughed.

I was bent low, ribs cracking and rehealing for several seconds. My chest burned like a lung had been pierced.

Mallucé stopped laughing, with a strangled sound.

When I shot up, Barrons had Mallucé by an arm around his neck. He hit me again and I went right back down. Barrons had held back when he’d punched me before. Given me a love tap compared to what he was dishing out now.

The bastard did it to me three more times; each time I straightened, his fist pistoned into my face before I could even get all the way up. It felt like my brain was rattling in my skull.

The fifth time I rose, Mallucé was on the ground, unmoving. I could see why. His head was no longer attached to his shoulders. He’d killed him! Barrons had stolen my revenge, cheated me of the pleasure of destroying the one who’d nearly destroyed me!

I whirled on him. He was spattered with blood, breathing hard, head down, eyes narrowed, and fury was rolling off him in thick, dangerous waves. How dare he be furious with me? I was the wronged party! My battle was interrupted, bloodlust was bottled up inside me, a turbo engine revved to redline.

“The vamp was mine, Barrons!”

“Inspect his teeth, Ms. Lane,” he said tightly. “They were cosmetic enhancements. He was no vampire.”

I punched him lightly in the shoulder. “I don’t care what he was! It was my fight, you bastard!”

He punched me back with the same light, warning force. “You were taking too long to finish it up.”

“Who are you to decide how long is too long?” I gave him another tap in the shoulder.

He returned the blow with equal force. “You were enjoying it!”

“I was not!”

“You were smiling, bouncing on the balls of your feet, egging him on.”

“I was trying to end the fight!” I punched his shoulder, hard this time.

“You were way past trying to end it,” he snapped, punching me back. I nearly fell over. “You were prolonging it. You were glorying in it.”

“You don’t know what the feck you’re talking about!” I shouted.

“I couldn’t tell the difference between the two of you anymore!” he roared.

I smashed my fist into his face. Lies roll off us. It’s the truths we work hardest to silence. “Then you weren’t looking hard enough! I’m the one with boobs!”

“I know you’re the one with boobs! They’re in my fucking face every fucking time I turn around!”

“Maybe you need to get a grip on your libido, Barrons!”

“Fuck you, Ms. Lane!”

“You just try. I’ll kick the shit out of you!”

“You think you could?”

“Bring it on.”

He grabbed a fistful of my T-shirt, and dragged me up against him until our noses touched. “I’ll bring it on, Ms. Lane. But remember you asked for it. So don’t even think about trying to tap out on the mat and quit the fight.”

“You hear anybody crying ‘Uncle’ here, Barrons? I don’t.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

He swapped the fistful of my shirt for one in my hair, and ground his mouth against mine.

I exploded.

I shoved at him, and clawed him closer. He shoved me back, and yanked me tighter to his body. I pulled his hair. He pulled mine. He didn’t fight fair. Actually, he fought exactly fair. He didn’t extend courtesies, not a single one.