To Bleed for Him

"I am a little bit of loneliness, a little bit of disregard,
Handful of complaints but I can't help the fact that everyone can see these scars.
I am what I want you to want, what I want you to feel,
But it's like no matter what I do, I can't convince you to just believe this is real.
So I let go, watching you, turn your back like you always do.
Face away and pretend that I'm not,
But I'll be here 'cause you're all that I got."
- Linkin Park

The breeze was cool as it wafted over Torryn, a surprising and welcome relief from the sticky humidity that permeated the air up here on the second floor of the Arena's decrepit warehouse. She was tempted to run her fingers along the jagged, broken glass that framed the glowing cityscape beyond, just to see what it would feel like to her numbed body, but she resisted the urge. She was already covered in enough blood.

"Here," Antony murmured at her shoulder, and she glanced down to find a clean blue towel in his hand.

She took it. "Thanks." She watched out of the corner of her eye as he watched her, his brilliant blue eyes following the towel as it scrubbed at drying and fully dried blood alike, and she waited for him to say something, anything. He had that look, the hard-set mouth that told of a million thoughts simmering beneath the surface. If he didn't speak soon, she swore his eyes would pop out of his skull from all the built-up pressure.

"I'm…" He faltered, his frown deepening, and she dropped her gaze to her stomach, lifting up her shirt and beginning to dab experimentally at the spot where she'd stabbed herself. The wound wasn't healing quite as fast as usual, but she didn't seem to be in any danger of bleeding out. That danger had vanished long ago. Antony was the only danger now. "I'm really, really…I'm so…I…" He paused, and she scrubbed in careful circles around the edge of her injury. "I'm sorry about what happened with that girl," he whispered finally. She looked up at him, but his eyes were on the cool night beyond the busted window, far, far away from her.

"You mean because you fed from her, or because she died?" 'Because she died,' she thought bitterly to herself, a self-deprecating smile tightening her lips. She didn't die. She was torn apart. And you were happy about it.

"Both," he answered, "but I'm apologizing to you because I fed from her." He finally met her gaze, and she scoured the rest of her stomach without looking down, lost in the sincerity of those blue depths. She vaguely remembered the Lord, the hope his still-present emotion and vigor had given her, but it was all quickly forgotten. "I never wanted to hurt you. Honestly, I never even wanted to do it. But she convinced me that I needed…more, you know? A master vampire isn't meant to feed from just one person. I need more blood than that. Honestly, I needed more blood than that when I was alive."

Her hope drained away, her expression blanking into nothingness, and she stopped chipping at the dried blood on her stomach. "So, basically, you're not sorry at all. You're going to keep feeding from other women because I'm not enough for you."

Anger flashed in his eyes and was gone, leaving behind that same sincere, sorrowful mask. "No, not at all. I really am sorry, and if I can help it, I won't feed from anyone but you, if that's what you want."

She dropped her gaze once more, now focusing on the cleaning of her right side. "I get it, Antony. I promise, I do. It sucks to know that I'm not enough for you, but I understand. Just find a few girls who won't give you any mysterious diseases and go to town." He forced a harsh sigh, and she met his eyes just in time to watch him roll them like a teenage girl. "That doesn't sound serious, but it is," she said, forcing a smile. "I want you to be at full strength, especially now that you've got some competition, and if feeding from other women is what it takes, then so be it."

He stared at her for a moment, no doubt dubious though her face showed nothing but a tired smile. "For real? You're serious?"

She nodded. "As long as you come to me first to at least see if you can get your fill."

"Oh, thank God," he said, and his entire body relaxed. She hadn't realized how tightly wound he'd been. "I'm starving, but I don't think your body could handle losing much more blood."

She pursed her lips, the blood-stained towel now dangling uselessly at her side. "I'm pretty sure I've got something left to give. You don't already have to go jumping into the arms of strange women."

He smiled softly but shook his head. "You need to rest," he whispered, gently taking her hands in his, and she let the towel drop from her fingers. His chilly skin startled her, and she wasn't sure it would ever stop. "You've spent the entire day fighting for your life. Repeatedly. I'm sure you're exhausted."

She shook her head, glaring up at him. "We need to come up with a plan," she argued. "We need to figure out what we're going to do to get your place back from that undead asshole."

"You're going to sleep," Skylar chimed in, and she turned to find him standing much closer than she'd expected. She hadn't even noticed his approach. The others served as his backdrop, spread out on an old sofa and a few overstuffed armchairs across the room. Her father and mother still couldn't seem to stop touching each other, just little brushes of the fingers here and there, and she smiled in spite of herself. "We all are. And then, if that works out well, we'll figure the rest out tomorrow."

Her smile fell away. "I don't think I can go to sleep just yet," she said, and the screeching and cheering from the first floor rose in volume as if in response to her words.

"But you need the most rest out of all of us," Skylar said with a frown, but she only shrugged.

"I'm not tired yet. I'm still too wound up from all the fighting I've done today." She started toward the rickety old doorway at the other end of the room and added, "I kind of want to see more."

"So, instead of sleeping, you're going to go to the Arena?" Antony asked bitingly.

"You're not going to fight, are you?" Skylar said the moment Antony's voice had stopped, but his tone carried a worry that Antony's hadn't.

She shrugged and passed through the doorway without another word, and the boys glanced at each other. With a pair of sighs, one a breath of life and the other just empty air, they followed.

-?-

The room reeked of sweat, blood, and spasmodic excitement, and as Torryn pushed her way through the throng of bodies, through the sea of heat and slick skin, the smell only grew stronger. She breathed it in slowly, however, savoring the fresh swell of scent that came with each squirm and vicious gesture of the crowd. It was a familiar scent — gross, but like home to her. And she needed a home right now.

She finally pulled free from the crowd at the corner of the ring, bursting into the small clearing around the ring manager's usual spot. Puzzled, she gazed into his unfamiliar face, and his smooth, perfect brow creased as he frowned down at her. "What happened to the other guy?" she asked as she rocked to a stop in front of him.

He crossed his arms over his chest and pursed his lips. "Business went bad for him." Business? Business like trying to rebel against Antony? "Now, you here for something important, or did you just come over to annoy me?"

Her expression smoothed as she looked him over. He was shorter and slimmer than the guys she was used to seeing ringside, more bone than muscle, but he wasn't small by any means. Vampire? she wondered, now steadily holding his impatient gaze. No, I think it's a Were this time. Maybe that explained why he hated her so much already. She did screw those werewolves over in the underground human fights a while back…

"A little bit of both, actually," she said with an ingratiating smile. "Do you have any open fights on the roster for tonight?" The thud of a body crashing against the mat crashed and rang in her ears, and her eyes slid to the fight. Two guys — Of course! — both buff, shirtless, and bloody. She couldn't tell who was winning as they crashed around on the mat together.

"You didn't say you were coming to fight," came Antony's voice from behind her, dripping with disapproval.

She rolled her eyes without turning and met the ringmaster's gaze again. "Anything? Anything at all?"

"Nope," he answered shortly. "What you see before you is all we've got for the night. It's been slow since the slaughter," he added derisively, tossing a sneer Antony's way, but the vampire didn't deign to respond. "If you can find yourself an opponent, you're in."

"You can't fight right now, Torryn," Skylar said, shifting around her until she had no choice but to look at his face, in the way of the ongoing fight. "You need to—"

"Wait," the ring manager burst in, the barest hint of surprise coloring his bland tone. "You're Torryn? That half-Progeny badass chick?"

"Uh, yeah," she answered, eyeing him in confusion. She didn't know that people knew her. Or that people didn't know her. Her station in the Arena was shaky at best. "Why? Is that important?"

"Um, duh," he said, nodding, suddenly much more animated. "I've been wanting to watch you fight, but I've never been here when you were up. Find yourself a sparring partner or a new nemesis and get your ass in that ring."

"You need to rest," Skylar said loudly, regarding Torryn with a scowl she was sure was meant for the werewolf staring at her in eyebrow-raised awe. "You've been in enough battles today, and you need time to heal before you get into any more."

"Look, Skylar, I'm not in the mood to rest. I'm still jittery from all the crap that's gone down today. I'm going to fight."

"Come on," Antony chimed in with an exasperated sigh. "Just lay down, get some sleep, and prepare yourself for the fight you know is coming tomorrow."

"No," she snapped. "I'm fighting now."

"Fine," Skylar said, and she met his narrowed eyes with wonder. Well, that was easy. "But if you fight, you're fighting me."

Her wonder turned to utter shock. "What?"

"Uh, yeah," Antony said. "What the hell?"

"Yeah," Skylar said boldly, drawing himself up to his full height. "You get to fight me, and if I win, you get as much rest as I think you need before tomorrow night."

"And if I win?" she asked, eyeing him as she considered the proposition.

"You can do whatever your little heart desires, even if I think it'll kill you."

She grinned. "Deal."

"All right," the ringmaster said cheerily, his eyes on the current fight. "You and the telekinetic are up next." Telekinetic? He knew Skylar already? Of course he does. Skylar's probably been here recently. "Lose the knife first, though," the werewolf added. "Don't want any problems."

"Knife?" Her eyes dropped to her hip, where the dagger was still gross and safely tucked away in the waistband of her jeans. She'd nearly forgotten about it. It just felt…right, like a part of her, right where it should be. "Oh, yeah." She pulled it free of its new home, careful to keep the reluctance from her face, and held it out to Antony. "Will you hold on to it for me?"

His expression was empty, but not empty like the undead. He was closed off. She couldn't read him, and she frowned. "Sure," he said simply as he carefully took the knife. "Just be careful, okay? And make sure to kick his ass real good so he doesn't get a big head."

She smiled halfheartedly. "Not a problem." The sound of another loud thud brought her head around, and the rambunctious cheers of a thousand people bounced off the rafters as the crowd exploded in excitement. One man lay unconscious on the blood-stained mat, and the other circled the ring with his arms raised high in victory. Both had a few bruises, a few gashes leaking blood, but nothing serious. Even her first pathetic match put theirs to shame, and a cruelly reminiscent smile curved her lips.

"Looks like you're up," the ringmaster said with a giddy grin of his own, and he opened the chain-link gate of the ring to let the conscious man out and a stocky one in. As the loser was hauled out, the ringmaster chuckled. "Good luck," he said, and ushered the fresh pair in.

As she passed through the gate, she looked back at Antony, finding only the back of his head as he made his way through the crowd. She wondered where he was going, what he was thinking, what he was feeling. Why had he been shut off like that? Was it because his world was virtually collapsing around him and she was selfishly satisfying her own desire to fight? Was it more? Was it…Skylar?

But as she faced the human in the ring, the scent of fresh blood and sweat still a hot, heavy stench around them, she pushed the thought from her mind. After the day she'd had, she was going to be selfish, and, at least for now, she wouldn't beat herself up over Antony's perceived feelings. Besides, she needed to kick Skylar's ass. He'd always had trouble remembering who was boss in their relationship.

"What are you smiling about?" he asked with a smile of his own, raising his voice to be heard over the ringmaster's echoing voice, announcing the fight to the masses.

"I didn't realize I was smiling," she replied, only now feeling the tug at her cheeks as she grinned. "But it probably has something to do with how badly I'm going to own your ass." He laughed, but the familiar ding of the bell cut off anything he might've had to say, and she dove at him without pause.

She closed in on him quickly, but he only smiled at her, crossing his arms coolly over his chest. Just as she pulled her arm back, just as she clenched her hand tightly into a fist, the sensation of hitting a padded wall cascaded down her front, slamming first into her nose, then her chest, then her thighs and her upraised fist. She bounced backward a step, brow furrowed in confusion, and his smile grew.

"You can give up now, if you want," he said as his eyes left her to absently scan the surrounding crowd. "You know, save yourself a bit of embarrassment."

Really? She'd bested a coven of vampires and their centuries-old leader, and he thought an invisible wall would stop her? As if.

She pulled her fist back again, scowling at him as he only cocked an eyebrow at her, and with every ounce of strength she could muster, she punched the air before her, still dancing with his unseen power. Her knuckles connected with something, but that something gave like water before her hand, flowing around her fingers as her blow continued through the air and toward Skylar's smirking face.

The boy leaped backward, his back coming to rest with the gentle jangle of chain-link fencing against the wall, and now, both of his eyebrows were raised. "Maybe I should've been a little tougher on you with that wall," he remarked, but she was already lunging toward him again. She wouldn't give him the chance to throw up another bullshit barrier.

The very tips of his hair grazed her knuckles as he ducked beneath a rapid punch, and what felt like an over-sized fist slammed into her stomach, knocking the air from her lungs and setting her flying across the ring. Her back met the opposite wall, and she planted her feet pointedly on the floor as she leaned against it, her fingers entwined in the fencing to either side of her as she caught her breath. His smirk grew.

"Are you ever going to stop hiding behind your cheap tricks?" she shouted over the raucous roar of the audience, pushing herself away from the wall.

"They aren't 'tricks' just because they're beating you," he retorted, "and they're certainly not 'cheap.'"

"Scared to face me without your precious powers?" she taunted, falling into that cocky stance of his, arms crossed and face easing into a smirk. "Afraid your muscle can't come close to mine?"

He laughed. "Sorry, babe. My 'muscle' just happens to be just as much brain as it is brawn." A wave of that water-like energy washed over her, pinning her to the chain-link behind her with tsunami-strength force.

He started toward her, his steps slow, taunting, carefully measured to milk her humiliation at his hands for everything it was worth. "You probably wouldn't beat me in a fair fist fight, either, but I don't want to embarrass you twice in one match." His tone reminded her of Antony's — strong, arrogant, the very embodiment of confidence and power, but so smooth and charming that she just couldn't bring herself to hate him for it — and she vaguely wondered when he'd grown into everything he'd pretended to despise about the vampire in the beginning. Had the Arena toughened him up? Or had it just taken time and a few disappointments at her hand?

The crowd quieted as he finally eased to a stop before her, looking her slowly up and down, sizing her up like a piece of meat — and she hoped for his sake that he was just playing to the crowd. "Have you ever considered that I'm not as weak as you and your bloodsucker think I am?" There was a rumble among the audience, the collective growling of a dozen vampires, but he went on, unfazed. "I'm not so different from you. Either of you. And I could do just as much to keep you safe as he can. More, actually, since I don't have a shiny new vampire coven after my ass."

She rolled her eyes, squirming subtly against his hold — only her feet, trying to gain some leverage to force the rest of herself free. "If I'm remembering correctly," she started, tone even to match his, "the last time you went up against a master vampire, you ended up half dead at the bottom of a stairway, and it was that bloodsucker of mine who had to come to the rescue."

His look soured. "Really? You're going to go there?"

She smiled, wriggling her feet just a bit more, forcing her soles flat against the fence with her knees just barely bent. "You started it." With a last pull, she planted her feet high enough on the fence to gain the leverage she'd been seeking, and she tore through the wall of water swimming around her with a powerful thrust of her legs. The crowd began to cheer again.

He threw up a hand to try to stop her, but he was too slow. She slammed into him, knocking them both to the floor with a chorus of grunts. She started to push herself to her knees, to ready herself for the continuation of the fight, but he was too quick. She was under him in the blink of an eye, pinned down by his hands on her shoulders, his body over hers, and that power of his, lapping around her like water.

Why does it always end up like this?!

"You can't tell me you never think about it," he murmured to her, the screaming of the bodies all around them keeping his words safely away from their ears. She looked up at him, into his earnest blue eyes, and her anger cooled to leave a low-simmering shame behind. "You can't honestly tell me that you don't regret what happened with us."

In answer, she wedged her knee between them and shoved him away from her. He fell backward, onto the mat, but by the time she was on her feet, he was facing her, still looking right into her freaking soul with that painfully honest gaze of his. Before he had the chance to start back up with his absurd line of thinking, she charged at him, barreling full-force in his direction like a crazed bull.

-?-

"Bothers you, don't it?" Becca remarked offhandedly as she sank onto the bench beside him, and Antony grimaced internally. Was he that transparent?

"You have no idea." He couldn't tear his eyes from the sight — that asshole, POS of a human, pinning Torryn, his Torryn, down, looking like he was seconds from ravishing her. It was disgusting.

Becca chuckled. "Because I don't spend hours a night watching you and Torryn together or anything," she said sardonically but without malice. "Oh, no. I wouldn't know a thing about jealousy."

He sighed, a habit he really needed to break. It hurt to force air out through an underused windpipe, especially when there was so little air in his lungs to begin with. "At least you know where we stand. And it can only get better for you, you know? I could leave Torryn and go to you, but for me, the only option is that she leaves me for him." He still couldn't look away from the ring. The way that human looked at her…

"You really think that's the only option?" she asked, her voice filled with enough wonder that he almost looked at her. Almost.

"Well, yeah." Torryn kicked Skylar off of her, and a thrill of triumph raced through him as if he were the one who'd committed the feat. "What else is there?"

She chuckled again, lowly this time, almost seductively. "I sometimes forget how young and inexperienced you are. You've got a lot of the vampire stuff down, but the life stuff…not so much."

He finally turned to her, brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

She smirked, and he saw some of his own deviousness in it. "You've got some shit to learn, kid — starting with the fact that monogamy ain't the only way to go."

-?-

Torryn's initial punch missed as Skylar stepped to the side, but she'd expected as much, and she was quick to follow him with another, then another. He ducked and dodged, then let loose a punch of his own, aimed at her stomach, but she knocked it aside with one hand and lashed out with the other. She heard the wind rush from his lungs as her fist caught him right below the ribs, and, smirking grotesquely to herself, she drew her other fist back in preparation for a second strike, aimed right at his sweet little jaw.

He caught her fist with a speed she hadn't known he possessed, and he grabbed her other hand as he spun her around. Suddenly, she was pressed front-first into the chain-link fence, her arms pinned behind her back and Skylar's body heat soaking through her clothes to leave her hot, bothered, confused. She grunted as he gave her a sudden shove, pressing her harder against the fencing with the jingle of chain-link.

"Is that a no, then?" he murmured, his breath warm and wet at her ear, and she felt her heart beginning to race.

"Too much talk, not enough fight," she whispered in return, but just as she prepared herself to press back against him, to fight his simple human thrall by knocking him flat on his ass, she felt that familiar fluid power beginning to swell around her. His heat left her back but not the pressure, and his touch on her wrist was a gentle caress, taunting but ineffectual.

The crowd went wild, cheering and all but cackling, and she craned her neck to see Skylar showboating behind her, a shit-eating grin on his face. His fingers finally left her wrists, and he flexed to show off his bulging biceps. For a moment, she forgot her rage. He did have some really nice arms…

"Will you just forfeit and go to bed?" he asked, a shout over the crowd, as he turned to look at her. "You can't handle a telekinetic. Just admit it."

She glared at him from between strands of tangled brown hair, ignoring the twinge in her neck that grew more violent the longer she twisted to look at him. Her heart rate slowed, but her body heat rose, a tingling flame all over. How dare he try to embarrass her like this!

"You have no idea what I'm capable of," she growled, and with an unreal flex of her own muscles, she tore her arms free from their invisible bindings. She couldn't see his face now, as her hair had fallen to cover her eyes, but she could feel the panicked scramble of the watery power as it tried to retake her arms. She pushed through it, however, guided by her instincts. She planted her palms against the chain-link to either side of her and, with a massive shove, pushed herself away from the wall and through the power that had bound her there.

"You should probably forfeit," she grunted as she turned to face him, still struggling through the sea, but it was becoming easier and easier. Was he starting to go easy on her, or was she just getting a knack for this? The shock in his wide eyes gave her her answer, and she smiled darkly. She wanted to mock him, to taunt him, to goad him as he'd been goading her, but she could feel him getting his bearings, the fluid power beginning to tighten at her sides again. She had to work fast if she wanted to come out of this on top.

She tore through the energy-filled air and lunged at Skylar, a punch ready to land, but he'd regained his composure. He blocked her punch, jaw set and muscles tight, and tried to land one of his own. She ducked beneath it and danced around him, and his power danced after her. It felt hotter now, feverish, as if its struggle to catch her were making it break a sweat. It caught her left arm in a vice-like grip, jerking her body to a stop just behind him, and instinct drew her free arm back. Just as the boy began to turn, his power snaking its way up her arm to take hold of the rest of her body, she let her fist fly, and her knuckles connected with the back of his skull.

His power instantly dropped away as he fell face-first onto the mat, and the air felt too empty now, even as it filled with the shrieks of the uproarious audience. Rubbing her left arm where it still tingled from his telekinetic touch, she dropped to a crouch beside Skylar's head, grimacing as he blinked sluggishly up at her.

"Sorry," she said with a shrug. "You gave me no choice."

"Will you just go to bed now?" he sighed, not bothering to lift his cheek from the mat, and she couldn't stop herself from smiling. She wouldn't admit it, but that fight had left her feeling drained enough to want to rest. She didn't think she liked fighting telekinetics.

"Only if you come with me."

"Fine," he said, then grunted as he pushed himself to his knees. She stood, offering him a helping hand, and he took it with a wry smile. "I don't think I'll ever get used to how good you are at this."

She hauled him to his feet with a soft laugh. "Yeah, me, either."

"It feels like just yesterday that you needed me around to protect you," he remarked drolly as they strolled across the ring together, his arm around her shoulder — just in case that shiny new head injury got the better of him and he fell, of course. They ignored the ringmaster's amused announcement of her victory, and she pushed the gate open to emerge into the cheering crowd.

She smirked. "Honey, I never needed you to protect me. I just used your ass to get a ride to school every day."

-?-

"Life doesn't always have to be a competition, Antony, and neither does love," Becca went on when he didn't respond for a long moment, and his eyes were glued to Torryn's tight-featured face as it pressed into the fence with Skylar at her back. Ire lanced through him, icy hot jealousy, and he couldn't comprehend Becca's words.

He was talking to her, the human, whispering in Torryn's ear, and when he stepped back, she remained glued to the fence. He watched her face redden in the low light, and he growled to himself.

Becca chuckled. "You don't like him because you know he's good enough for her," she remarked, and his neck nearly snapped as he whipped around to scowl at her. She only smiled, docile and unassuming. "You know he's a lot more like you than you're willing to admit."

"What are you talking about?" he all but snarled.

Her eyes returned to the ring, and she tilted her head in the direction of the fight. He followed her gaze, watching with disgust as Skylar flexed and left Torryn helpless against the fence. "He's toying with her, just like you would in his place. He's playing to the crowd, gloating, just like you would. He's giving the poor girl a run for her money, just like you would — because he's just as strong as you." When he turned to her, he found her staring at him levelly, wisdom a bright light replacing the ditziness that normally resided in her expression. "His strengths may not be yours, and you may ultimately be his superior, but he's not the pathetic human that you think he is. And he's not wholly undeserving of her."

They turned in tandem at a sudden uproar from the crowd, and Antony watched in awe as Torryn broke free of Skylar's hold. Her muscles may not have been anything like the muscles of the man she faced, but as they bulged and flexed, he couldn't help but be impressed. She pushed herself away from the fence and faced the human, and Antony smirked to himself.

Becca laughed again. "Plus, there's not much that bitch is undeserving of, herself. She ain't perfect, but she's sure better than the rest of us." He turned to watch as she stood from her seat beside him, a hollow smile on her face. She glanced down at him, and, guilty, he met her gaze. "Oh, don't feel bad about it. I've been around long enough to know that I'm no one's ideal." She turned, already waving a goodbye, and started to walk away. "Just don't forget what I said, okay?" She tossed a wink at him over her shoulder and added, "Polyamory's a thing the kids are really into these days. Give it a chance." And then, she was gone, lost in the throng of bodies that writhed and cheered in the stands all around them.

His gaze returned to the ring, and he watched distractedly as Torryn punched Skylar in the back of the head. He frowned.

Polyamory? Being with more than one person at once?

Torryn helped Skylar to his feet, and she didn't resist when the boy let his arm fall around her shoulders.

Polyamory?

Is that what Torryn wanted?