Couldn’t say he minded that one, Shuli thought as he knelt next to Lyric.
Taking her free hand, he said, “Help’s on the way. We’ve got you.”
The way her eyes rolled back in her head made him feel like he was going to pass the fuck out, too.
And then he heard the strangest thing.
“Take… you… to… him…”
While Rhamp stayed focused on his sister, Shuli looked over at the man who was under L.W. Even in the midst of the terror and the drama, it really hit him that whatever that vampire was sitting on… was not actually human.
He didn’t know what that thing was. Not alesser, no. But—
Even L.W. slowed down the strangulation as the guy kept talking.
The man—whatever he was—dragged in a breath. “That is what you want, isn’t it. My father.”
The statement—spoken in a remarkably level tone—brought even Rhamp’s head around.
“Get off him,” Shuli said in a guttural rush. “Get the fuck off him.”
L.W. didn’t budge. Until… he did.
Sitting back on the guy’s hips, the fighter still looked like he was ready to kill his prey. But something was firing in his frontal lobe—and then his nostrils flared, in a way that his sire’s had on many occasions.
“He’s telling the truth,” L.W. said, almost absently. “He intends to… take us to Lash.”
Shuli did some quick math and then glanced at Rhamp. “You stay here with her. ETA on help is about two minutes.”
The male was nodding as Shuli rose to his feet. Even though the last thing he wanted was to leave Lyric, her brother had dominion over her, both in terms of the Old Laws and every sense of well-duh. Stupid emotions of the misplaced-love variety had no place in this kind of crisis.
Because he knew what was coming next.
“L.W.,” he barked, “get him up. You and I have to leave with him right now if you want what you’ve told me you want. Otherwise, the Brothers are going to take this over—”
He didn’t get a chance to finish. The heir to the throne dragged the man—or whatever—up to his—its?—feet.
Leaning down once again, Shuli put his face in Rhamp’s and mostly blinked back tears. “Take care of our girl.”
He had no idea if the male was hearing anything. So he repeated: “Help is coming. ETA ninety seconds. You stay with her.”
In what seemed to be a daze, Rhamp nodded. With that settled, Shuli went over to L.W. and the pair of them each grabbed an armpit and all but carried their target out of the apartment.
“There’s a better way than this,” the guy muttered in a bored way as his feet dangled.
Whatever, the Brothers were about to come in through the basement or the building’s front door at any second, so Shuli nodded up the stairs and they hit an ascension as fast as they could go. Reaching the top floor, he glanced around—
Utility closet.
Tearing open the door, he was about to tell L.W. to—
L.W. handled the man like a Hefty garbage bag, tossing him inside. Then they both followed and shut the door.
Before the heir to the throne could start throwing insults—or punches, or maybe bullets?—Shuli put his palm in the fighter’s face. Then he addressed their new, not-so-little friend.
“First, we talk this shit out. Now, what thefuckwere you saying back there.”
Squeezed into a small closet with all kinds of brooms, buckets, and furnace filters, Dev’s mind was not on the two vampires in front of him. All he could see was Lyric splayed out on his floor, that blood on her turtleneck at the sternum, her face losing its coloring.
