“Bitch,” Nico grunted, as his other hand cracked across her face in an open-handed slap. She couldn’t dodge in time, her arm was held and unable to block, which left her only able to roll with it. It felt like her cheek had exploded, pain lancing through her head, and she staggered, held up only by his grip.
Antoine… please…
But then he was there.
A blur of black shadows tore through the doorway, sprays of red arterial blood from the two thralls who stood guard outside. One held his trigger down as he died, bullets spraying into the wall, but Antoine had already passed him, expression grim, his tux in tatters, entering the room like death incarnate.
“Get your handoffher,” he said, lips drawn back to bare his fangs, head angled forward as he glared at Nico with red eyes.
The vampire flung Cally down, and she fell to her knees next to Eve’s too-still body.
“Outcast,” Nico said slowly, backing away. “Where’s Tobias?”
“Here,” said a voice from the door, andanothervampire entered, holding a wickedly curved dagger. He bled from a deep gash in his stomach, his other hand pressed over the wound, but it didn’t seem to be hampering him too much. Antoine wasn’t whole either; he had what looked like several bullet wounds, a deep cut in his side, and as he stepped back to keep both vampires in sight, he favored his left hip. “He’s stronger than we thought. We’ll take him together.”
There was no further warning, no more posturing. Both vampires leaped as one for Antoine, Tobias coming in low with his dagger, Nico going high with a punch aimed at his head. Antoine blurred forward, slipping between both of them, faster than either. He spun, his fist catching Nico’s chin with a glancing blow, but he’d had to twist to avoid Tobias’s slash, and the strike lacked force.
Cally crawled closer to Eve, covering her limp body with her own as the three battling vampires tore through the room, past the furniture, over the bodies, and none of them so much as stumbled. It came almost too fast to track, and she wished she had a spell for speed. Was her strength still boosted? How long did it last, how long had it been? Could she even risk getting involved, helping him, or would it merely distract, only to prove fatal?
She bided her time, watching intently, waiting for an opportunity. Several times she thought Antoine had been hit, but each time he dodged or blocked with an elbow or knee. Her heart pounded hard, and her vision began to gray at the edges until she could only see their fight as it moved around the room.
She slipped her fingers to Eve’s neck by touch alone, trying to feel a pulse. Yet either there wasn’t one, or it was too faint to feel through her own racing fear.
Then Nico staggered back, shaking his head from a blow that Antoine had landed, and she was behind him. She got a foot beneath herself and lunged, deliberately staying low, going forhis leg. Spell-boosted strength or not, all she had to do was hamper him enough for Antoine to take advantage.
Her shoulder hit hard mid-thigh, yet it was like driving into a streetlight. Nico barely stumbled, but she clung on anyway. And she was right there—one arm hooked around him, one hand free, crouching on the carpet with a foot braced. It was all she needed for the blow she struck, her punch driving up between his legs with everything she had.
Nico screamed, both hands falling instinctively to cover himself, and it was all Antoine needed. He surged forward, fist hammering in with his full weight behind it, and it caught Nico solidly in the side of his head. He lurched sideways, as if drunk, reeling from the blow. Antoine ducked a high slash from Tobias, spun past them both, hooked his arm around Nico’s throat, and yanked. A wet snap, sharp and final, and Antoine released him. Nico collapsed face down into the carpet, his neck grotesquely disfigured, one leg still twitching.
“You bastard,” Tobias growled. “I will kill you.”
He drove in again, fast and hard, still pressing Antoine, but his attention flicked to Cally. She scrambled back quickly, but Antoine had seen too. He kept himself between them, not giving Tobias an opening. The vampire took full advantage, his blade slashing in again and again, until Antoine’s tux was little more than ribbons, the dress shirt beneath stained crimson with his blood.
“Don’t protect me,” Cally begged, pulling Eve’s body into her arms. “Just kill him.”
“Protecting achattel,” Tobias sneered. “You were always an outcast.”
“Antoine!” Another shout echoed through the house, and Cally recognized it instantly.
“Gabe!” she screamed. “We’re in my room!”
“Two on one again,” Antoine remarked coolly. “The tables have turned.”
A shadow of doubt crossed Tobias’s eyes, but he didn’t retreat or try to flee. He pressed harder, blade, fists, and feet working together, knowing he had Antoine pinned.
Gabe appeared in the doorway, covered in blood, wearing a tuxedo too—or what was left of it.
“See to Eve,” Antoine said, not sparing him a glance. “She needs healing.”
Cally’s gaze darted helplessly between them, torn between begging Gabe to aid Antoine and letting him heal Eve. Was Eve still alive? Would this cost Antoine his life too?
Gabe sped past them, dropping to one knee beside Cally. “Don’t worry. Our boy has this covered.” He gathered Eve into his arms, running his fingertips over her neck. “Broken. How long ago?”
“I… I don’t know.” Everything had happened so fast. “A minute? Maybe two?”
“C4 fracture,” he muttered, then, “she’s not breathing.” He met Cally’s gaze with an apologetic look even as he bared his fangs, and before she could say anything, he plunged them into Eve’s neck.
But Cally didn’t care—not if there was still hope. “Do what you need to do,” she said fiercely. “Anything it takes.”
