“Anyone in this town is my concern. Especially when our friends were found murdered last night.” His eyes drilled into me. “Was that your doing?”
My breath jammed in my throat. I couldn’t tell him who really did it. I didn’t want any more vampires against Karson than he already had to deal with. “No, I already told your little white-haired friend I had nothing to do with it.”
“And yet.” He flexed his claws. Like the claws Sarah used to rip through my stomach. My breath choked in my throat. “You paused before you answered—only liars need time to think.”
My mind spun, trying to think of a way out of this. “I don’t want a war between witches and vampires any more than you do.”
“It’s not an act of war,” another vampire sneered, “if it’s retribution.”
I huffed a laugh. “Isn’t that the way most wars began and kept going?”
Dahlia jutted up her chin. “In order for it to be retribution, you need to find the guilty parties. Do I really need to remind you of what will happen to you if one of you lays a finger on either of us?”
The dark-skinned vampire gave a wolfish grin. “We will find out, shall we?”
“If that’s the way you want to play it.” A blade hissed as Dahlia drew a long-edged sword.
My body tensed as my hands buzzed, the power in them singing for release. Air seemed entirely inadequate. I truly wish I’d brought the fucking knife.
“You attack and you die.” The words fell from my mouth. I didn’t know where they came from, but they sounded stronger than I felt.
In a blur of movement, Rohan exploded. Although the fight moved with a flurry of speed, each movement played like a slow-motion movie. Dahlia swung her sword, and I heard the blade clank as it struck bone before I felt a warm, wet splash across my face. The heady scent of blood filled my nose. I gasped anda sickly metallic taste stormed across my tongue. I fought not to gag.
At the last second, Rohan leapt back, and the blade sliced through his arm rather than his head. His arm—his detached fucking arm—smacked onto the ground, and blood spewed from its end and wove through the cracks like hellish rivers. Dark red gushed down the vampire’s torso and jeans. He stood frozen, his eyes wide with shock, as if he couldn’t believe what had just happened. I didn’t know what the others were doing. For that brief moment, the world was cold and completely still as my vision fixated on his severed arm. I thought that would stop him. It didn’t.
“I’m going to kill you,” he roared and charged again.
My hands went up, but I didn’t have time for my powers to explode. Someone grabbed my arm and yanked me off my feet, the air whizzing past my ears as I was whirled around. There was an awful cracking noise like a branch snapping. Not a branch—bone. I didn’t feel any pain, so that must mean—Dahlia.
There was no time to search for her. The world blurred with darkness and my shoulder slammed into something hard. My head followed, a sharp pain hitting my skull. I grunted as I bounced off the wall, slapping to the ground with a sickening rush. My breath shot from my body. One of the vampires had tossed me out of sight of anyone passing by. I was facedown, the heavy taint of urine and rot burning off the alley floor. The sound of fighting came from nearby.
“Fucking bitch,” a vampire roared.
Dahlia was still alive, but before I could collect my thoughts, a chill rushed over my body like frigid hands. A vampire was closing in. I pushed my palms against the filthy floor and rolled over. My body struck metal. I was trapped between a black skip bin and the wall.
Rohan stalked toward me, his face white, heaving with rage, his remaining hand curled into a fist. The other still spewed blood. My palms rose, but he shifted to the side behind the bin, and my powers hit nothing but the end wall. Frantically, I scrambled back, but he snagged hold of my foot and yanked. Concrete and rubbish crackled under my body as I was jerked out, catching only a glimpse of Rohan’s white hair and that clawed hand as it let go of my ankle and reached for my chest.
Fear burned through my throat as power burst from my palm. Rohan flew backwards, his arm flailing. His body hit the wall with a crack.
From down the alleyway, there was another dull thud. A woman’s shrill cry. The sound of fighting stopped. Dizzy still, I spun around, clutching at my bruised head as I lost my balance. I saw a flash of black. Heard the crack of bones. And then a banging further away.
I stumbled to regain my balance, raising my palms. My powers buzzed. I stopped. I was staring at the broad shoulders of Karson. He stood directly between me and the other vampires.
I stepped to the side. He looked rabid—that was the only way to describe the fury on his face. His eyes were a shade of coal, his lips thin, his body stiff, his muscles flexed in his arms.
My eyes darted to Dahlia—she held the sword gripped tightly in one hand—and I let out a breath of relief when I could see she was unharmed.
The same couldn’t be said for Rohan. He was crumpled against a brick wall across the other side of the road, his hand clutched over his chest. And his chest?—
His chest was caved in.
“Unless all of you would like your heads removed to match that arm,” Karson snarled, “I suggest you all stand down.”
The vampires stepped back, eyes wide in fear. Except for the dark-skinned guy; he held his ground and lifted his chin. “Protecting witches now, this would be a first for you, Karson.”
It wasn’t actually … now probably wasn’t the time to inform him.
Karson stalked forward until there was less than a hand’s width between them. “I always protect what is mine, Gerrin, and the witch you are threatening ismine.”
