When Declan jerkedhis arms toward him, he pulled the Savages holding him forward. The one who had picked up the brick stood frozen as he gaped at where Derrick lay unmoving and bloody on the ground. The bloodlust of the Savages and Willow’s terror and fury were living, breathing entities inside him.
His heart still wasn’t completely healed, but the strength of the other’s emotions continued to expedite the process as they coalesced inside him. He used them to try to break free of his captors. If he and Willow didn’t escape this place, what they would do to her was a fate worse than death.
The idea of one of those demons—and he knew this Kirkau was one of them—raping her until she bore its child was enough to drive him mad. But the idea of that beast tearing their baby from her womb sent him into a killing frenzy. There was a chance she already carried his child, and he wouldn’t allow anything to happen to that innocent life.
His muscles expanded with power as he sought out the emotions of those surrounding him and drew them deeper into himself. He’d stopped trying to shut the emotions out, but this was the first time he’d actively sought them out and pulled them into himself.
And with the power came a slowing of time and an enhancement of his senses he’d never experienced before. Having been born a vampire, he’d always possessed heightened senses. However, now he could hear the separate breaths from the Savages, detect their inherent odor buried beneath their stench of rot, and see the different particles of sand in the concrete sidewalk.
Something whistled as it cut through the air toward him, and he dodged to the side a second before a brick smashed into the sidewalk where his head just was. Snarling, he jerked the Savages holding his arms toward each other and banged their heads together.
When one of them released him, he pulled his arm away from the other and seized another by the throat. More of them crowded his back and legs, but with his arms free, he placed his hands under him and pushed up.
He dislodged a couple more of them as another whistling sound came toward him. Except, this was not the sound of a brick cutting through the air. No, it was something far more deadly.
Declan threw himself to the side, wrenched his legs free, and rolled as a stake drove into the ground where his heart was. These things weren’t screwing around anymore; Derrick gave the order to kill if necessary, and they were obeying it.
He twisted the head off another Savage as a stake plunged into his thigh, and another sank its fangs into his wrist. For most vampires, the agony of having their blood unwillingly drawn from them was enough to immobilize them.
But herelishedit. He’d denied himself after what happened with those women, but there was a time when he would sit in a chair and allow vampires to feed on him while he resisted the pull of his blood. Sometimes, he’d allow as many as ten to feast on him while another fulfilled him sexually.
The mixture of pleasure and pain was an aphrodisiac to him. It also enabled him to endure the bites of others. Now, he welcomed it as the pain fed the fire inside him.
He grasped the face of the Savage feeding from him and squeezed his fingers together until it became nothing but pulp beneath his hand. Shoving the mutilated creature away, he grasped the arm of another who was about to drive a stake into his chest. He crushed the Savage’s wrist and jerked it over the top of him before flinging it away.
When the stake clattered against the concrete, he snatched it up and plunged it into the chest of another Savage about to fire her crossbow. Ducking to the side, Declan couldn’t completely avoid the bolt that rammed into his shoulder, but at least it didn’t hit his heart.
Fighting off the rest of the horde coming after him, he managed to get to his feet and searched for Willow through the crowd. He spotted her crawling off Derrick, with a hand on the back of her head.
When another Savage ran at her, she rolled over and lifted the sword into the air. At the last second, the Savage darted out of the way of her vicious swing. Willow twisted onto her knees and pushed herself up again. The Savages closing in on her jumped back when she swung the sword at them.
When her gaze briefly met his, he wasn’t surprised to see the red and black color seeping through her skin or the fire burning in her eyes. She was a purebred vampire whose mate was in danger, and he sensed her volatile emotions.
She swung the sword at another Savage, who ducked back in time to avoid being eviscerated. Determined to get to her, Declan tossed aside more Savages as he carved a line through them. He was almost to her when the twang of multiple crossbows firing at once filled the air.
With his heightened senses, he heard each separate arrow slicing through the air, but there was nothing he could do to stop them. He couldn’t get to her, and neither of them had time to get out of the way, so he threw his arms out as he leapt in front of her.
“Declan!” Willow croaked and lurched toward him as his body jerked from the impact of the bolts hitting him. “NO!”
Her scream was a visceral sound of anguish as fresh blood spilled from his lips, and he took a couple of jerky steps toward her. Some of the bolts had pierced straight through him to reveal the blood-covered tips poked out of his body. Willow gawked at those tips as she tried not to picture one of them sticking into his heart.
“Please, no,” she pleaded, and the words kept tumbling from her lips as she fought through the remaining Savages separating them.
Whoever fired the crossbows hadn’t cared they were taking out some of their own too as a few Savages lay dead on the ground while some others squirmed. Reaching out, her hand enclosed on Declan’s wrist.
She was rewarded with the exquisite feel and warmth of him before she released him and swung the sword at a Savage who jumped back in time to avoid the blade. She tried to get a better look at Declan’s wounds, but it was impossible. The Savages wouldn’t give them a break.
If one had hit his heart, he would be down already, wouldn’t he? The other Savages who took the bolts were already dead, so he would be too. But then, those other Savages weren’t pissed-off purebreds on a rampage and looking to protect their mate. That might be enough to keep him going for a few more seconds, maybe even minutes.
Declan was severely injured, maybe dying, but fire burned in his eyes when they met hers before he spun and clutched the shirt of a wounded Savage trying to flee. He jerked the Savage toward him and broke its neck.
Declan held the Savage with its head twisted halfway around and used it to shield his back when more bolts released. The Savage let out a startled cry when the bolts pummeled its body. It squirmed for a few more seconds before going still.
Declan continued to use it as a shield as Willow held back the others surrounding them with her sword. He didn’t know how bad the damage from the bolts was, but with the blood he lost earlier, he was starting to weaken. However, none of them had hit his heart; even with as furious and empowered as he was by the emotions engulfing him, a fatal blow would have dropped him.
Behind Willow, he spotted Derrick rising. The turned hunter staggered to the side before his fingers went to his temple. Willow had fucked him up, but he would recover soon, and when he did, he’d regroup the Savages. Right now, half of them looked like they were contemplating running while the other half kept coming at them.
Willow jabbed at another Savage who jumped out of her way. When the crowd surged forward, she swung the sword so fast none of them could get at her without losing a limb. With Declan at her back, and using the dead Savage as a shield, they edged down the street.
