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Marcus had no idea who was attacking his home, but he had a few guesses. Unfortunately, he had no weapons tucked away in the library. Hell, the closest on hand were in his office and bedroom on the third floor. With Ethan packing up the house, he’d moved all the weapons he kept hidden about his home because he didn’t want his assistant stumbling over them and asking awkward questions. At the time, he didn’t think Ethan would understand that he was always at risk of being attacked by another vampire.
Now it wouldn’t be quite so hard to explain.
As Rafe and Marcus turned toward the hall, they watched as the first few men entered wearing what looked to be body armor while wielding automatic weapons. These weren’t vampires. They preferred knives for hacking off limbs and heads. Bullets didn’t always slow down vampires.
Marcus glanced over at Rafe, who tossed him a jaunty smile and a little shrug.
“Can you grab the lights, dear brother?” Rafe asked.
Marcus relaxed the little part of him that seemed to hold back the power. Tension flooded from his body while all the light in the hallway rushed into his body. Pitch blackness crashed over the area and shouts rose in the darkness. The intruders floundered a bit, waving the nose of their guns wildly from one side to the next, blind to everything. Night vision goggles didn’t even work in his version of a magical night.
He’d asked Rafe how he managed to fight in that complete blackness and his brother said that he relied on sound to take down his prey. Marcus watched his brother easily slide through the room without making a sound, his eyes closed against the darkness. He’d pause here and there, his head cocked to the side as he listened. The attackers breathed heavily, their clothing and armor rustling as they shifted. So very easy to find.
A scream pierced the relative silence as Rafe took down one man, his body thudding loudly on the hardwood floor. The other attackers jumped backward, moving away from the sound while turning toward it. Marcus launched himself into the thicket of men, grabbing two of them. He slammed one hard to the ground, attempting to knock the air from his lungs while grabbed the other by the throat. Fingers dug deep, tearing through flesh and sinew. Blood spurted hot across his hand and the ever-present hunger pushed back, demanding to be sated. The second man’s scream was immediately cut off in a wet gurgle. Marcus pulled his hand free as he tossed the man to the ground and turned his attention to the first man.
Shouts from the rear of the house echoed to the front and Marcus’s heart jumped. They were surrounded. He heard Ethan shouting instructions and then Bel answered, but he couldn’t quite make out their words. He could only assume that Ethan was directing them to take the servants’ staircase to the upper floors as a means of escape. He wanted to go to them, save them, but he couldn’t leave Rafe alone. They were outnumbered.
Before he could grab the intruder at his feet, pain seared through his arm followed by another near his collarbone. He’d been fucking shot. He lost his hold on the power and light flooded into the room. People shouted in pain. Marcus dove at the bastard who shot him, ripping the gun from his hands and potentially breaking fingers in the process. With a snarl, he snapped the man’s neck and dropped his corpse to the floor.
He looked up to do a quick count of attackers, hoping that Rafe might be able to handle them on his own so he could check on Ethan and their mother, but it proved to be wishful thinking. Behind the men already standing in the open hallway, four vampires strolled into the house, wicked grins on their pale faces. They wore no body armor and carried no guns. Each had a long blade in their hands. Marcus recognized only two of the faces of vampires who liked to associate with Meryl. Fellow members of The Hidden looking to take out the people who would be most likely to cause problems for their master plans.
“Rafe! Watch out!” Marcus cried. The humans were a nuisance. The vampires were the true threat.
Marcus leaned down and pulled a knife from the dead man’s sheath. The newest intruders hung back, waiting for Marcus and Rafe to finish dealing with the humans before they fell on them in a flurry of steel and fangs. Marcus fought them as best he could. Fists pummeled him as he sank his blade deep into a gut. The grip grew slick with blood and he tightened his hold. He couldn’t risk looking over at Rafe, couldn’t think about Bel alone at the rear of the house against an unknown number of assailants. He could only keep moving, keep fighting.
