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“RAYNE, STAY IN THEcar. Head down,” I shouted.
I didn’t make my move on the Lilac until Rayne slid back into the SUV. I needed her out of here, but it was too dangerous to tell her to run with the Lilac bitch’s webs.
When I’d seen Rayne’s text then her missed call, the fear was real. So fuckin’ real I was motionless for several seconds as I stood in the middle of Liam’s club. Then it kicked in, the rage as I got into my car and raced to the west end of the city. I’d parked illegally in front of the park then used my enhanced vision to search for her. But it was the distinct sound of vampire hisses that drew me to the next block in the alley.
What I took in when I got there wasn’t heated rage; it was a cold, lethal calm.
And now it was time to fuckin’ dance.
I liked challenges. I thrived when odds were against me. But not this time. This time I cared who lived and who died. This time I had something to lose.
“Walk away and I’ll let you live, Scar,” the Lilac shouted from behind the cover of the SUV.
“How about I let you keep your head on your fuckin’ shoulders if you walk away right now.”
I dove to the right as the Lilac expelled webs from the tips of her fingers. The substance flew through the air and attached itself to the condo wall behind me. I threw one of the iron rods I’d picked up from the construction site next to the alley. It pierced through a vampire’s forehead and out the back of his skull.
He dropped to the ground.
I ran for cover behind a parked van, and the back windshield cracked then crinkled as a shuriken embedded into the glass inches from my head.
Footsteps approached.
Without looking, using only my senses, I raised my hand and shot my gun toward the movement on the other side of the car. The steps faltered then stopped, but no thump of a body.
Fuck.
“Get out of there,” the Grit shouted.
I didn’t think. I reacted. I dove to the other side of the car. White webs skimmed my leg. Fuck, she was fast. Being snared by her was not an option. I’d seen the Grit, Roarke, caught in her webs, which were stained pink with his blood.
A Grit who warned me. A Grit who was obviously on the same side when he was supposed to be an enemy of the Scars.
I slowly drew my dagger from my boot. Breathe calm. Listening.
A faint heartbeat to the left.
I jumped to my feet.
“Jasmine,” Roarke shouted. The distraction worked and the Lilac glanced at Roarke for a split second.
I threw the dagger as my head reeled at the name. Jasmine? Fuck, where did I know that name?
She dodged the blade, but not fast enough, and it pierced her shoulder. Her body staggered back from the impact. Then she yanked out the knife and tossed it to the ground.
This bitch was not going to hide or make a run for it. She wanted me dead.
“Roarke.” I tossed him one of my blades. Didn’t trust the guy. Didn’t like him. But Rayne did, and if he could get out of the webs, then maybe we’d have a chance.
“What the fuck do you want with her?” I called out while crouched behind a blue dumpster.
Jasmine’s voice purred. “Simple. She belongs to me.”
What the fuck did that mean? Possessive, grave-robbing bitch. I glanced around the side of the bin at Roarke. He had the knife and sawed at the webs around his wrists. But it would take too fuckin’ long.
Shit.
“You think I wouldn’t have back-up, Scar?” Oh, I knew she’d have back up. I sensed them all around me. Jasmine laughed, the sound echoing in the alley. “Put down the gun, Kilter.”
