He threw his head back and laughed just as the spotlight on the house came on. “Humans are so stupid.”
“Who said I was human?”
He wiped my saliva off him, then stuck his fingers in his mouth. “I’ve always wanted to taste you. I’m sure your blood is much better than this.”
I wrinkled my nose. “You’re disgusting.”
“Vampires can feel a witch’s magic. You don’t have any.” He sniffed my neck and moaned. “But your sweet smell of fear is driving me mad.”
I attempted to push him. He didn’t budge.
Instead, he started to remove my baby carrier. “She belongs to me.”
My pulse shot from a hundred to two hundred in a matter of seconds as rage barreled through me faster than the speed of light. Before I could think, I headbutted Roman.
The crack of my skull on his stymied me. Instantly, pain gripped my entire head, but I brushed it aside. I didn’t have time to whine or worry or cry.
Roman faltered, narrowing his eyes, fangs dripping with hunger and revenge.
I stomped in his direction as Luna began to cry. She was probably sensing my fear.
“Touch me or my daughter and—”
Roman’s face reddened. “When will fucking humans learn that they’re low on the food chain?”
Before I could track him, he grabbed me and sank his fangs into my neck.
I screamed as loud as I could, but I couldn’t dig deep enough to unleash my inner banshee. It wouldn’t matter if I could. Vampires were immune to my Hollywood scream.
I should’ve never told Sam to flee.
Sam would never leave you. He will save you.
Wolves howled around us.
I took comfort in the realization that the shifters weren’t dead. But where the hell were the Vampire Navy SEALs—Olivia, Kraft, Ben, and Tripp? Or even Conrad, who was a vampire scout and my bodyguard. Had the witches gotten to them? Where was Agnes? Although she was of no help since Maeve had taken her powers.
Where are you, Sam? Luna and I need you.
Roman yanked on my hair with one hand and clutched my throat with the other while he continued to suck my life essence as if he was bloodthirsty. A laugh zipped around in my head. He probably was starving.
I kicked and squirmed, but that only made things worse. The more I fought, the deeper his fangs tore at my skin.
Be still, my inner voice supplied.
Fuck my subconscious voice.
A woman shouted, “Get off her, vampire!”
Agnes? That sounded like my grandmother. But I couldn’t be sure. I was fading, watching the SUV in front of me spin like I was on a merry-go-round. Nausea churned in my stomach like a violent storm at sea.
“Stop,” I said weakly. “You’re draining me.”
He squeezed my throat harder, not releasing his fangs.
The dizziness multiplied—or rather, the spinzies, as my mom had liked to call them anytime my sisters and I were dizzy.
A white-haired woman came into view with anger steeped in her brown eyes.
