And I knew this was also the face of a man whose heart had stopped beating, and who had nothing left to live for.
“No,” I whispered, my voice not carrying any farther than my own lips. “I’m here,” I said, even as the echo of my words bounced back to choke me.
Ryder didn’t hesitate, didn’t pause. He swung toward the vampires, faster than anyone else in the room was moving. Lifted his gun, aimed it not at Lavius, but at Rossi.
Bathin was moving—hell, I was moving. I threw myself at Ryder, was flying, weightless, across the space between us, falling slowly, slowly, slowly.
Bathin lunged up off his feet, his face flame and stone as the false mask of humanity he wore stripped away, melted from the inside out by the fire that ignited, exploded across his skin with each heavy, smashing step he pounded across my living room floor.
He ducked Jean’s crutch, grabbed Myra and deposited her behind a chair without breaking stride.
Demon. Nothing moved with that kind of power. That avalanche of violence.
Then he lowered his shoulder and barreled right into Lavius.
The ancient vampire saw him coming. He lifted one hand, fingers tucked hard against palm, crooked out like hooks in a net.
Bathin grunted, and even though he was nearly bent at the waist, pushing forward, every granite fire-wrapped muscle straining, he could get no closer to Lavius.
“You are dust beneath me, blight,” Lavius sneered. “Your service will be rewarded when I serve your head to your king.”
I was still falling, caught in a slow motion that allowed me to see the rest of the room in close to normal time. Time enough to see Bathin’s dark, unholy eyes go narrow with hatred. Time enough to hear the bellow of his snarl.
A flicker of pleasure rolled over Lavius’s face. “Did you think I would ever trust you, princeling? You were nothing more than a means to an end. An entire kingdom of darkness is at my pleasure.”
I missed what Bathin said, as I finally found my feet, so close to Ryder, all I would have to do is breathe forward to be pressed against his back. Ryder who squeezed the trigger and fired at Rossi.
“No!” I yelled again, the sound nothing but a whisper.
Rossi moved, fast. Sofast.The bullets peppered the wall behind where he had been a fraction of a second before. Ryder’s bullets useless against the vampire.
Lavius knew Rossi was here to kill him. Knew how fast Rossi could move.
Lavius turned, fired that gun, the one that had killed me, just as Rossi closed in on him.
That bullet snapped a hole below Rossi’s left eye. Blood oozed from it, so dark it was black. The smile on Rossi’s face, spine-bright and full of bones, did not falter.
His hand rose and brought down the clay knife in a vicious slash at Lavius’s face.
Lavius stepped back, smooth, easy, as if he had danced to this song a hundred times, a thousand times. He fired the gun again, Rossi dancing forward, closing the distance and taking the bullet in his chest as if it were no more than rain against his skin.
Rossi snarled, one hand flicking out to lock around Lavius’s throat. He squeezed, nails digging beneath skin, foot hooking behind the other vampire’s ankle.
Lavius countered, the gun now empty of bullets—how many had he fired—using the chunk of metal to slam upward on Rossi’s arm trying to break his hold.
But Rossi would not let go. They tumbled to the ground, twisting and slashing, fast, fast, fast, cobras tangled in death throes.
They broke apart too quickly for me to see how, both of them bleeding in more places than just a moment before.
The clay knife was on the floor, kicked away by Lavius who pulled out a blade of his own. A blade like the one I carried, green and black with dark magic.
My blade! I reached for it, but I was insubstantial. I was nothing.
I was dead.
Even if I could use the blade it wouldn’t kill Lavius, it would only slow him down.
Could that be enough to turn the fight to Rossi’s advantage?
