“You know I will.”
Antoine worked the pin free as quietly as he could, holding the safety lever in place. Even so, metal scraped on metal, butTobias hadn’t moved. He eased up his grip until the lever primed with a metallicclick-clack.
A second passed. Another. Then he threw it into the room with a flick of his wrist.
“Outcast! Where are—” Tobias’s voice turned into a shout. “Grenade!”
Antoine had enough time to lament the damage to his nineteenth-century edition ofLe Comte de Monte-Cristo, then a gut-punching blast tore through the room, shrapnel exploding with a thumping detonation that threatened to shatter his eardrums.
But he didn’t let it slow him down. He was through the doorway as soon as the roar of the shockwave washed over him, leaping over the dead, looking for Tobias. Dust cascaded from the ceiling, adding to the smoke, shrouding the room.
“That was not very nice,” the vampire said, regaining his feet from behind what was left of the sofa. Blood ran down his neck from one ear, his clothing was shredded, and two gashes marred his face. But he stood straight, weight balanced. He curled his lip as he took Antoine in. “Little overdressed, aren’t you?”
“Evening event. I’d have invited you, but…” Antoine sniffed. “I don’t like you.”
“I’ve been waiting for this since you killed Matteo,” Tobias said, stripping away the remnants of his suit jacket without taking his eyes off Antoine. He pulled a long, curved blade from a sheath on his back. “Tonight, I will avenge him.”
“I see your eye has grown back since I punched it out.” Antoine raised a hand, finger and thumb extended, as if measuring a line. “Not quite straight though, is it?”
Tobias growled, fangs extended, then leaped across the room.
Antoine stepped forward to meet him, fist flashing out toward the other vampire’s head, but the blow hit nothing but air as Tobias ducked beneath it with a grace and speed Antoine hadn’t anticipated. The dagger slashed for his midsection, but he twisted to the side. The tip of the blade still scored through his dress shirt and into his skin, cutting deeply in a thin red line.
Then Tobias was past, and Antoine backed away, giving him space. “Hmm. Faster than Matteo.”
“A hundred years older, too.” Tobias lifted the dagger to his lips and licked the trace of Antoine’s blood that coated its tip. “Matteo wasn’t a fighter. You’ll find I am.”
Only seconds had passed since Antoine had thrown the grenade, but already the thralls outside were hammering at the shutters, forcing them open. He had to finish this fast, before he had more than he could deal with.
He swooped and picked up a fallen gun, but Tobias was on him before he could get the weapon raised. The knife came down, and Antoine blocked with the barrel. Tobias pivoted, denying him a shot, his other hand thudding into Antoine’s injured hip. He hissed in pain, slow to pull his leg back, and Tobias swept his foot.
Antoine fell to one knee, still holding off the knife with both hands on the gun, its curved blade inching close as Tobias leaned his weight into it.
“I thought you’d be more of a challenge,” he said, managing to sound disappointed.
Antoine clenched his jaw, bracing himself as he pushed up. Tobias’s smug expression changed to one of concern as, despite all his effort, the blade was forced back.
“How are you so strong?” Tobias grunted, then abruptly wrenched the dagger away, shifted his weight, and kneed Antoine in the chest.
But Antoine had anticipated the move. He might lack the training of which Tobias boasted, but he had lived through too many wars, and too many fights. He dropped the gun and grabbed Tobias’s leg, his fist hammering into the other vampire’s thigh. Tobias grunted, his balance lost, and Antoine pushed to his feet, half lifting him. Again his fist struck, this time taking Tobias in the face, the vampire barely rolling with the punch in time. The blow knocked him back and he staggered, stumbling over a body on the floor.
Antoine grabbed the gun again, flicking off the safety even as he lifted it to his shoulder.
And in that moment, his bond to Cally surged—just like the night she’d been with the Order. It clawed at his focus, pulling him to her.
He fired anyway, but the shots went wide, Tobias diving to the side, only to kick off the wall and change direction, the blade extended. Once again, Antoine was forced to parry, but he did so half-distracted.
“Noah?” he linked. “What’s happening?”
There was no response.
“Diego?” The other thrall should’ve been upstairs too, but again, nothing came back through the link.
Outside, guns started firing—at what, Antoine didn’t know. Tobias’s attention snapped to the shutters, brow furrowing in surprise. The fist-shaped welt marring his cheek had split one of the gashes wider.
Antoine used the opportunity, again dropping the weapon to free his hands. He grabbed Tobias’s wrist, and the other vampire grunted as he tried to pull free. Antoine twisted sharply, turning the dagger point-first toward Tobias. His other hand grasped Tobias’s, holding the dagger in place, and they strained against each other, pitting their strength.
Someone screamed outside, more shots were fired, then another scream.
