Even as he slipped, though, the feral intruder snarled and swung around to confront her. Disaster averted, if only for a few seconds longer.
The creature’s red-rimmed eyes narrowed on her, agleam with animal cunning. For a heartbeat, she and the zombie simply studied each other, sizing up their new opponent.
The intonation vibrating in its throat sounded remarkably like a raspybonjour.
Max had come very, very close to cutting out its heart. The gash wept yolky blood but was placed slightly too far to one side. The zombie’s neck also gaped wide from a neat slice that hadn’t gone quite deep enough. Other glancing wounds dribbled miserly amounts of viscous fluid, but clearly none of them were sufficient to end the battle.
The same couldn’t be said for Max’s injuries. She had no idea how he was still scrambling upright or even breathing after suffering that kind of damage. While she’d been running around to the back of his home, he’d obviously taken another claw swipe to his own neck, one that tore his flesh there into raw meat, with ivory bone visible in several places and blood pouring in a ceaseless stream down his torso. Other sets of ragged, parallel furrows marked his upper body, the creature’s claws biting hard enough to rip through muscle and cause the average human to bleed out within minutes.
As he’d so often reminded her, he wasn’t human. But he wasn’t made of stone either. Even though he was immortal, he could still fuckingdie, and that outcome seemed entirely plausible in this moment.
And then there was the issue of whether he’d been bitten. Whether a fluid exchange had occurred. Whether a vampire might transform after a bite, as a human would, within ten minutes.
If he’d received a bite, the clock had already started counting down.
But that was a problem for later. Right now, she had a zombie to kill.
Max’s eyes burned into hers as she tore up her throat with another battle cry—the better to distract the creature and draw itaway from her half-dead vampire. Even through all the blood, his scowl should have turned her to stone.
“Edie!” he roared, and actually had the nerve to sound angry ather. “Get out!”
Instead, she charged forward, his lost blood a red haze clouding her thoughts. The zombie that was bounding toward her—while grunting something that could have beenmagnifique—had hurt Max.Max. When she was done with that gray-skinned fucker, it wouldn’t have an ounce of that yellow fucking blood left in its misbegotten fucking—
With a sudden fierce lunge from behind, Max chopped off the creature’s head. Spraying fluid, it landed with athumpand asquishon the faded, curling linoleum, swiftly followed by the louderthudof the zombie’s body collapsing in a heap maybe two feet in front of her.
Max staggered to the nearest wall and braced himself with a heavily bleeding arm while he used his other hand to keep his gushing neck attached to his shoulders. He sagged there, bent over at the waist as he gasped for breath and glared up at her through his lashes.
His skin had turned as pale as any Hollywood vampire, and it scared the hells out of her. When she rushed toward him, though, he held up a staying hand.
“Max—” she began, stopping a step away from him.
“Wasn’t bitten.” His voice was rough and low, his tone urgent. “Couldn’t avoid claws, but kept its teeth away. I think. Can’t be sure. If I’m wrong, stake me. Right through my heart. Or cut off my head.” To her shock, he managed a thin huff of laughter. “Job’s already half-done. Easy…peasy, right?”
Her brain promptly supplied the image. The gleam of herknife raised high. The crunch of cleaving bone. Weak spurts of Merlot-hued blood. His head rolling away, his eyes open and sightless. His chest stilled forever.
She twisted away from him, jackknifed forward, and dry-heaved violently. Her eyes watered at the force of it, her breath coming in choked sobs between every jolting retch. Max tried to push off the wall to get to her, but he was too weak to stand without assistance.
“Edie.” He sounded desolate now. “Don’t.”
She shook her head, unable to speak. He gave her a few moments to calm herself, then issued more orders she wasn’t certain she could follow. Even if it might save her life.
“Elevator,” he rasped, one hand still clamped to his neck. “Get us belowground. Check for bites. If you find one, do it. Put me down. Promise.”
“I’m…” Raising her head, she gagged anew and swallowed back bitter saliva. “I’m not sure I can promise that, Max.”
A similar promise had nearly destroyed her once. She wasn’t putting herself in the same position again.
“Either promise or…” By leaning his shoulder against the wall, he was able to free a hand to delve into his hoodie pocket. When he looked up a moment later, he had a smooth, viciously sharp wooden stake clutched in his red-stained grip. “Won’t risk you. I’ll do it myself, right now. Bite or no bite.”
Oh fuck. He would. She knew he would. Other than her promise, the only thing that could stop him might be a physical confrontation.
When her eyes fell to his shaky grip, he gritted out, “Still strong enough, human. Don’t test me.Promise.”
Her retching had stopped, but her tears hadn’t. She sheathed her cleaver, slapped the moisture away from her cheeks, and made herself say it. “I promise.”
Uttering the words felt like issuing her own death sentence. Part of her—the softer, more hopeful bits—wouldn’t survive keeping that vow. Not this time.
She’d honor it, though. Even if it killed her as surely as it did him.
