Raphael (The Immortal Youth Book 1) (13 page)

“No, thanks. Got my old lady waiting for me.” Rock pointed his chin at Chloe, who stood beside a group of girls looking at them from a corner nearby, worry etched on their faces.

“Raphael, what about you? Fancy some sport with this ugly ragdoll?” Rico squeezed Luisa’s chest with both hands, and she gasped. “She isn’t much to look at, no curves and all bones. But isn’t that your type—”

Raphael forced a mask on his face. Hoping he could still salvage the situation, he uttered the crudest, filthiest thing he could think of, and waited for the men to laugh. Then, without looking at Luisa, he told Rico, “Sure. I might have a use for that.”

Luisa lowered her head, but Raphael saw her tears and hated himself.

Rico made to push her toward Raphael, but at the last moment he pulled Luisa back against him instead. “Changed my mind, pup. I’ll have some fun with her myself.” His hand went to Luisa’s throat, his fingers circling her skin in a possessive way, without pressing yet.

The drunken horde hollered and cheered, reminding Raphael of how powerless he was to do anything. The realization didn’t stop him from roaring and baring teeth. Luisa’s ashen expression and the subtle shake of her head as tears kept falling down her cheek made him sheathe his fangs, but not fast enough.

“Oh, the pup is angry he doesn’t get to play tonight.” Rico’s hold on Luisa’s throat tightened. An open threat. “Are you challenging me, little brother?”

The crowd anticipated blood and shouted their approval, chanting, “Fight! Fight!”

“That’s an idea. What says you?” Rico smiled and finally opened his hand, letting go of Luisa who staggered forward, color returning to her face.

Before Raphael could reach for her, Rock grabbed Luisa’s elbow and took her aside and out of Rico’s reach as well. For that, Raphael was grateful.

“Do you have the guts to fight me, pup?” Stepping forward, Rico beat his chest with his fisted hands.

More holler from the crowd followed his act.

Although Raphael should have known better, a sneer came out of his mouth as he raised an eyebrow and said, “Worried you’ll have your ass beaten by a cub, big brother?”

Whistles, laughter, and general bewilderment covered Rico’s words to Raphael. “Be very careful with what you say. Being under Tancredi’s protection doesn’t put you above brotherhood rules.”

With more bravado than he could afford, Raphael stepped closer to Rico until he encroached on the werewolf’s personal space, and beat his chest too. “Bring it on.” Desperation and anger didn’t make him smart, but he couldn’t see any other way out from that situation.

Some of the men nearby must have heard the exchange, and started stomping their boots, calling Tancredi’s attention from the other end of the hall. One raised hand from the alpha was all it took for the drunkards to sober up and shut their mouths.

“What’s the matter?” Tancredi asked Rico.

“Pup needs to learn some manners, and I intend to provide the service tonight.” Rico’s words were smug, but Raphael noticed how his big brother drummed his fingers against his thigh.

The Red’s nervousness was a sign he wasn’t as drunk as Raphael had counted on. Rico was lucid enough to fear Tancredi’s wrath and that wasn’t good.

Tancredi turned to face Raphael, gave him an assessing gaze, then said to Rico, “Make it a fair fight.”

Rico stilled his fingers making a fist and yet answered, “Would never have it any other way.” He then focused on Raphael, his canines visible when his lips stretched into a scary smile.

With a paternal gesture so at odds with his character, Tancredi wound his arm around Raphael’s shoulder. “You might earn your second tattoo tonight.”

Blood chilled in Raphael’s veins. No one had told him anything about having to endure the torturing prickle of the stigma ever again. Although, at the moment he had more pressing matters he needed to deal with than worrying about another ink session.

Rico flanked him on the other side. “If he survives the cage,” he said, matching Raphael’s own conclusion.

With a chuckle, Tancredi made sign for the crowd to move along. “To the gym.”

A procession formed. While the horde headed toward the stairs, Raphael and Rico were directed by Tancredi to the elevator, creating a low buzz of excitement. Raphael scanned the crowd looking for Luisa, but realized neither Rock nor the other girls were in the hall anymore. With his heart in his throat and his thoughts scattered in a million different directions, he entered the elevator cabin.

The ride downstairs was silent, slow, and awkward, and made for a stark contrast when the door slid to the side and revealed several people waiting for them. They must have run the stairs three or four at a time to be already at the gym landing. In no time, the crowd recomposed, and after a moment of hesitation to test the alpha’s mood the cheering resumed.

While Raphael and Rico were escorted to the cage, a frenetic exchange of money ensued among the spectators. Idly, Raphael wondered if anyone would wager in his favor, then he raised his eyes to the jutting walkway and saw where the girls had gone. His fleeting amusement soured in his mouth, leaving only dread behind.

Luisa, hugged by Chloe, sat with her legs dangling in the empty air. Her posture rigid, she stared down at him unblinking. Raphael felt her fear, her desperation, and those feelings became his own, pumping his heart to a frenzy.

“Keep your head.” Rock’s meaty hand fell on his shoulder.

Again, Raphael hadn’t heard him coming and didn’t care for his presence.

“He has much more to lose than you do,” Rock added.

Up on the walkway, Chloe embraced Luisa tighter and leaned forward, hiding Luisa’s face from Raphael. Automatically, he stepped forward, distressed that Luisa would watch him fight, and terrified that would be the last she saw of him. Chloe shook her head and covered Luisa with her arms.

“Listen to me.” Rock grabbed Raphael’s elbow and squeezed hard.

The pinching pain reverberated to his shoulder and Raphael suppressed a cry.

“Do I have your attention now?” Rock didn’t let go of him until Raphael nodded. “When you enter the cage remember what you learned while sparring with Rico. He’s big and cocky.”

“Thanks for the pep talk.” His eyes glued on the walkway, Raphael silently begged for Chloe to have mercy on him, and release her hold on Luisa long enough for him to say his goodbye.

Tancredi took position on the big chair one of the brothers had dragged down from the billiard room for him—he usually didn’t show at the fight tournaments—and raised his jeweled hand. “Let’s the match begin.”

Accompanied by Rock, Raphael entered the cage before Rico, who ran around its perimeter soliciting the crowd to cheer him. Once they were both inside, Rock exited and the spectators fell silent once again.

Dark, malevolent energy permeated Rico as he approached Raphael with a smirk. “No rounds. We fight until you drop or cry uncle.”

With a shrug, Raphael bumped his fists against Rico’s raised ones. “You wish.” So that was Rico’s plan, to force him to surrender and humiliate him.

The ability to reason escaped Raphael the moment the cage door closed with a clank. His wolf snarled and he let him, his hair bristled and his fangs lowered. Bleak thoughts swirled inside his mind and froze his heart.

“Wolves in check or you are disqualified,” Tancredi ordered, then flicked his wrist. One of the three girls standing behind his chair hurried to his side, and grabbing her by her waist he lowered her to the armchair.

Bright light exploded over the cage, offending Raphael’s eyes, and making Rico a stark sight while the rest of the world disappeared behind the bars.

Whereas Rico had been boisterous up until a moment earlier, now he took slow, measured gestures to remove his shirt, then his boots.

The Red’s show didn’t faze Raphael. The man was big and ripped, but Raphael already knew that from their sparring sessions, where Rico always took great care in pointing out how small and scrawny Raphael was compared to him. His father had always remarked on Raphael being the runt of the litter too.

Raphael kicked his boots and socks out, and let the concrete floor coldness seep through his bare feet and center him.

“Are you going to fight dressed for the ball?” Rico pointed at Raphael’s jacket. “Remove it.”

That was new. The werewolf had never commanded Raphael to doff his clothes. True, Raphael had never fought with his Red jacket on, because disrespecting the patch was frowned upon. Even though Raphael didn’t care about the Red code of conduct, he needed to blend in and not enrage the spectators and Tancredi. So, as he had done countless times before, he bit his remark and shrugged off his jacket, despite his wolf demanding him to stand up to the Red and the rest of the audience.

“The shirt too, lover boy.” A cruel, knowing smile lit Rico’s face as he raised an eyebrow in challenge.

When Raphael hesitated—the fear of showing himself too ingrained for him to let go of it—Rico barked a laugh, then said loud enough for the people near the bars to hear him, “Worried to show your ugly back?”

At first, Raphael’s stomach contracted. The old, familiar pang of panic rose to his throat, choking him. Then he realized Rico must have seen his scars when Raphael had fainted that first day of training, and waited to use that knowledge. Somehow, the thought was liberating.

With the same slow, deliberated movements Rico had shown earlier, Raphael grabbed the hem of his shirt and raised it over his head, only to toss it to the floor with a lazy smile. Raising his arms to the side, he rotated on his feet, giving the audience the full visual of the crisscross of lashes and cigarette butts marring his skin, from the base of his neck to the small of his back. His father had been nothing but thorough and dedicated to the task of teaching his son what was his place in this world, trembling and shaking at his feet.

When the collective gasp came, Raphael raised his chin and locked eyes with Rico. “Do your worst.”

Rico’s smile faltered for a moment, but when he talked again his voice was humorless. “You asked for it.” Snarling, he descended on Raphael like a fury, his hands balled in fists and his fangs out.

The first punch hit Raphael’s jaw and he staggered back, but regained control before the second punch would send him to the floor. Dancing on the ball of his feet, he evaded Rico’s next attack and kicked him squarely in the chest. Raphael’s wolf howled, and the crowd half cheered and half booed him.

“Mind your wolf!” Tancredi’s voice boomed from the darkness.

Controlling Wolf from lashing out took his mind from the imminent danger, and Raphael lost momentum. Rico took advantage of Raphael’s loss of focus and kicked him back, too close to his groin for Raphael’s comfort. Then Raphael leaned, and spun on his heels to deliver a roundhouse kick that only hit Rico’s arm.

“You’re like a mosquito,” the man hissed and launched himself at Raphael, squashing him against the bars, upper and lower jabs rained down on Raphael.

With his arms raised, Raphael tried to protect his head, but Rico pummeled his chin with a series of punches that reverberated through Raphael’s mouth, and from there to his skull. Years of practice in defending himself kicked in, and he was able to relax his tongue and move it away from his teeth. Too close to his opponent and too busy avoiding incapacitating blows, at a loss for smart moves Raphael raised his knee up, hoping to connect with any of Rico’s vital parts.

An anguished snarl followed, and Rico leaned away long enough for Raphael to free himself from the cornered position, and move toward the center of the cage. Rico recouped immediately and swung at him with an uppercut that caught Raphael unprepared, even though he had seen the blow coming his way. The sheer amount of power behind the punch that connected with Raphael’s solar plexus wasn’t anything he was used to. Even during their gruesome sparring sessions, Rico had never hit him that hard. With a gasp, Raphael ended on the concrete floor but managed to roll and didn’t hit his head.

“Here’s one final lesson for you, you never show your enemy your full strength until you have a need for it.” Murder in his every action, Rico advanced until he towered over Raphael. “Consider yourself graduated, pup.” He raised his leg only to lower his heel toward Raphael’s groin.

The most primordial survival instinct overtook Raphael and he moved away at the last moment, forcing Rico to hit the floor hard instead. Enraged, Rico shouted a crude profanity. Raphael shot back up and punched the Red in the guts twice. Raphael’s third attempt was deflected by Rico, who swatted Raphael’s fists away with his arm and head-butted him. Again on the floor and disoriented from the hit, Raphael tried to squirm away, but Rico placed his foot on his stomach and pressed until Raphael stilled.

Removing his foot, Rico leaned down and seized Raphael by the shoulders, then lifted him up like a ragdoll. “I’ve had enough of playing with you.” With the most impassionate expression, he started punching Raphael’s face with methodical blows. “You little scum. Thinking you were good enough to see one of my girls behind my back.”

Dizziness and pain mixed, and Raphael couldn’t be sure how long Rico’s punishment lasted, but he managed to throw a few punches around, and even a kick that connected with empty air.

“Say you’ve had enough.” Rico’s order was followed by an uppercut that hit Raphael to the temple.

A deep-rooted emotion resurfaced, and when Raphael should have considered saving himself, he said instead, “Never.”

“I’ve joked until now.”

“Me too.” Raphael couldn’t see anything anymore. A black wall had lowered before his eyes, but he could feel the Red breathing close to him and he swung a punch.

“You’re pathetic.”

Several blows hit Raphael all over his body, but he still refused to surrender. After losing his sight, also his hearing defeated him. Swimming in a sea of hurt, blind and deaf, he commanded his arms to move in what he hoped were upper jabs. Vibrations from the floor echoed through him. Was the crowd cheering his sudden demise? Wolf snarled, but Raphael couldn’t control him anymore, so he begged, “
Please, don’t embarrass me
.”