Kit … Kit had to be injured. Roger could smell their blood.
And Zack. The sound of him fighting carried into the room. At some point, he’d been driven out onto the balcony.
We’re losing. Roger forced his leg forward, though the tendrils wrapped around him. Another slew of them covered his left leg, and one tugged on his knee and broke it. He screamed as he went down.
From there, his wrists were caught in the gluey shadows, and he was pulled onto his hands and knees. Centuries of pain and fear flood through him.
Anton sank to his knees in front of Roger and pressed his head against Roger’s. He slid his hands along Roger’s back.“Shh, shh. Seamus insists that our little wager isn’t truly done yet. You’re not going to die tonight.”
A shiver of relief poured through Roger on reflex. “You … you aren’t going to kill us?”
Anton put a finger under Roger’s chin and made him meet his gaze. His smile froze what little heat Roger had left. “Darling, I saidyouweren’t going to die tonight. I said nothing about anyone else.”
Then Anton snapped Roger’s neck, and oblivion swallowed his thoughts.
CHAPTER 38
Flying through a glass doorsucked. Zack rolled as he hit the concrete balcony and let his momentum carry him farther away from the shattered glass. His dagger had slipped from his hand. He’d brought his arms up to protect his face, and it had been a danger. He came to a stop and hurried to his knees.
The dagger was close to the broken glass door. It was his only protection. He had to have it. He scrambled, and a sliver of glass sliced through his palm.Not my good hand. I’ll deal with it later.
The thunk of flesh on flesh threatened to distract him, but ingrained training kicked in. A defenseless hunter couldn’t help anyone.Arm yourself first. Then save who you can, Dad had always said.
Will I ever see him again?
Another distraction that Zack pushed away. He grabbed his dagger and rose into a fighting stance. His breath clouded the air in front of his face, and the icy air fought his lungs. But he could do this. He had to do this.
Kit snarled as they struck Seamus with their claws. They continued pushing him out onto the balcony with every slice.Seamus took them, each with a laugh, and the wounds healed by the time Kit scratched him anew.
However, they were keeping Seamus distracted, and Zack could work with that. He slipped around so that he was behind Seamus. When the timing was right, he plunged his dagger toward the center of Seamus’s back.
Only for Seamus to blur with vampiric speed. Seamus locked his hand around Zack’s right wrist and forced him onward.
The blade sliced into Kit’s stomach.
“No!” Zack tried to wrench free of Seamus’s grip, but the vampire was a granite block.
“Now, now, little blade, do what you’re meant to do.Kill,” Seamus snarled into Zack’s ear.
With a speed and effort that wasn’t his, Zack cut across Kit’s abdomen. The wound was deep. Too deep. And made with silver, which meant Kit wasn’t healing right away. Kit put their hands over the wound and staggered backward. Their foxlike features began to melt away, but not entirely. The golden eyes remained and the hurt that was in them.
“Kit!”
Seamus laughed.
Cal used to laugh like that.
Right before Zack usually found a way to win a sparring match.
Fear and anger melted into pure determination. Though Seamus had a strong hold on him, physics could still serve Zack. Breaking grips was the first and most repeated lesson among hunters. Because what they had to fight was always stronger. Faster. Had a longer reach. Winning was never about besting their opponent but surviving them in any way possible.
Zack pivoted his wrist, wincing from the pinch, and he yanked his hand free using the one small weak point in Seamus’s grip. He spun away from him, then swung out a wild punch.Seamus grabbed that wrist, but that meant he dragged Zack in closer. Zack drove the blade into Seamus. As he stepped toward him, he shoved upward on it.
Flesh parted on the blade, and Seamus grunted. His eyes fluttered shut for a heartbeat, but then he grinned. He brought his arm down and pushed Zack’s elbow down, sliding the dagger back out of its wound.
“Missed the heart,” Seamus taunted.
“Don’t worry. I’ll get it in the end.” Zack cracked his head against Seamus’s. The vampire lost a step, and Zack shoved him forward. They crashed against the outdoor couch and tumbled together onto the concrete. Zack continued to stab him. Over and over. He wasn’t quite reaching the heart. He hadn’t angled it upward enough.
