Page 117 of Let Sleeping Vampires Lie

“Down,” Con gasped.

I dropped, dragging him with me.

The weapon fired.

The blast streaked over our heads and hit the wall opposite with a sickening crack. Stone shattered. Heat rolled over us in a wave that smelled like burning chemistry and scorched stone.

The alley filled with dust.

Marcus swore. “They brought a rail launcher? For an auction?”

“They were never planning to leave witnesses,” I said.

The soldier stepped forward.

Con pushed against me, trying to stand between the blast and my body again. His legs almost gave.

“Stay down,” I snapped.

He ignored me and reached for a knife hidden at his ankle. His hand shook.

Rage snapped through me.

At the soldier. At Valerian. At the idiots who thought they could turn humans into weapons and call it progress.

Fire answered.

I had nothing left for a grand gesture. The inferno in the hall had drained most of my reserves. What rose now was fierce and compact. A knife, not a tide.

I flung it.

A concentrated bolt of white heat shot from my hand and struck the launcher. The weapon’s casing scorched, then warped. The core flashed bright, then sputtered.

The soldier jerked, shocked, as his weapon died in his grip.

Con seized the opening.

He launched forward with a burst of speed I would have thought impossible given the state of his body. He closed the distance in three strides, drove his knife up under the soldier’s arm plating, and twisted.

The enhanced staggered.

Not dead yet.

He swung his free fist and caught Con across the chest.

The impact lifted him off his feet and threw him back.

He hit the asphalt hard enough that the sound hurt my bones.

“Con,” I shouted.

He did not answer.

Marcus fired twice. The bullets hit the soldier’s helmet at the temple. The reinforced plate held the first round. The second punched through.

The soldier dropped.

Silence crashed over the alley.