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A Rottweiler bounded forward, snapping at the vampyre’s legs and sinking its teeth into his calf. The vampyre cursed, slashing at the dog with his sword.
The animal didn’t let go.
A garrote flew through the air, catching the vampyre around the neck.
He dropped his sword and tried to pull the wire away from his flesh.
It was no use. The garrote tightened with a loud clicking sound until it separated his head from his body.
Some of the hunters remained with the corpse to drain the blood, not wanting it to lose any of its magical properties. The others rejoined their gang behind the house, where they confronted the remaining vampyres.
Thrown over the back of a soldier, Raven had to rely on her ears rather than her eyes as they burst through a hole in the back wall of the building.
Arrows whizzed through the air, dogs growled and barked, and the panicked voices of hunted vampyres swirled around her.
The soldier who carried her wove from side to side, avoiding those in his path, until a German shepherd began to chase him, snapping at his heels.
Despite carrying Raven, the vampyre maintained his distance, but the animal would not give up. It began to jump, trying to catch Raven with its teeth.
She clutched her arms to her chest to avoid the snapping jaws.
Then she flew through the air and slammed to the ground. She lay on the damp earth, stunned, her right hand caught beneath her body. Pain lanced through her.
A few feet away, the soldier who’d been carrying her lay sprawled. He kicked at the snapping German shepherd, making contact with its muzzle.
The animal yelped and retreated, allowing the soldier time to escape. Unencumbered by Raven, he fled into the trees.
“Looks like someone abandoned his dinner.” A male voice laughed.
With a great force of will, Raven began to crawl toward the trees.
Quick footsteps approached her. The hunter grabbed her by the hair, forcing her head back.
She looked up into dark, cruel eyes.
“How many are there?” he demanded.
“Go to hell!”
The hunter backhanded her, splitting her lower lip with the force of his blow. “How many are there?”
Raven made a show of wiping the blood from her mouth, while surreptitiously sliding her other hand down to her ankle.
“There are twenty vampyres. Ten inside the house and ten a short distance from here.”
The man wrenched her hair, lowering his face so he could see her eyes. “There are more?”
She nodded, moving her hand beneath the hem of her jeans. “Ten more avoiding the daylight in a building to the north.”
He hit her again. “You’re lying.”
She let out an anguished cry and tried to pull away from him. “I’m not; I swear it. We were supposed to meet the others after sunset.”
“You will lead us to them.” The man grabbed Raven’s injured arm and pulled.
Before he could drag her to her feet, her fingers closed over the hilt of the dagger. In one swift motion, she withdrew it and plunged it into the top of his foot.
The hunter cursed and released her, his hands closing on the dagger.
Raven stumbled to her feet, cradling her injured arm and heading toward the trees as fast as she could manage.
Over her shoulder, she could see that several of the vampyres had been felled, and hunters were already gathered around their corpses. She couldn’t see Cara or the vampyre who had been carrying her. Raven hoped they’d escaped.
Just as she approached the tree line, the hunter caught her from behind, wrapping his forearm around her neck. “You’ll pay for that, feeder.”
Raven scratched at his arm, gasping for breath.
He tightened his grip, and Raven felt her throat close. She continued to struggle, tearing his flesh with her fingernails and pulling at his arm.
“Release her.” A voice drifted out of the trees.
Raven pounded the hunter’s arm with her fists, straining for breath.
“I said, release her.” Out of the darkness a figure emerged, dressed entirely in black.
The fire from the burning building behind them illuminated the figure’s face.
Raven looked straight into a pair of angry gray eyes.
Chapter Seven
“YOU WISHED TO SEE ME?” Father Jack Kavanaugh stood in front of the large desk, clasping his hands together.
The Director of Intelligence for the Curia was dressed in the robes of a cardinal, befitting his position. He peered up at the Jesuit, his dark eyes assessing. “Tell me about your trip to Florence.”
“I met Raven, the young woman I wrote to you about. Two nights ago, her sister came to me with her fiancé. I gave them sanctuary, and we wrote to Raven, asking her to join us. She refused.
“This morning, one of our officers shared a report from Florence’s police department, indicating that the fiancé had been murdered, and Cara and Raven are missing. It sounds as if the fiancé was killed by a vampyre.”
The Director remained silent.
Slightly unnerved, Jack continued. “The Prince of Florence has been deposed by Machiavelli, who is sending Raven and Cara to us as a peace offering.”
The Director blinked. “In your letter, you requested a squad of Curia soldiers so you could retrieve the women.”
“Yes. I’m concerned for their safety.”
The Director glanced down at the open file on top of his desk. “This Raven woman was the Prince’s pet.”
Jack grimaced. “I was unaware of that until I saw her in Florence.”
The Director’s eyes narrowed. “Did you write to the Prince, asking him to release her?”
“Yes. I’ve known her since she was a child. I’ve always protected her.”
The Director rested his hand on top of the open file. “So you don’t deny ignoring proper channels and compromising the Curia’s mission?”
“Since when is an attempt to save a human soul a compromise?” Jack grew very red in the face.
The Director studied him.
“You Jesuits have a habit of asking for forgiveness rather than permission. We aren’t all Jesuits, Father Kavanaugh, and that kind of thinking isn’t tolerated here.” The Director paused. “You were brought to Rome because of your service record. I will personally transfer you to Prague if you compromise our activities again.”
“Prague?” Jack’s eyebrows lifted. “But there aren’t any—”
“Precisely.”
Jack bowed his head to hide his anger. “Understood.”
“It’s fortunate Florence decided to accede to your weakness rather than to exploit it.”
Jack lifted his head. “I don’t consider caring for my parishioners to be a weakness.”
The Director tapped one of his fingers on top of the desk. “We exist in order to protect humanity from evil. I wish we could save everyone. We both know that’s impossible.”
“I’m not asking to save everyone.” Jack forced himself to keep his tone even. “I’m simply asking for support in protecting two young women, women who are like daughters to me.”
“We have int
elligence that they are being sent as a gesture of peace, but we have no idea what condition they’re in or how many soldiers accompany them. It would be folly to send a squad outside our walls until we know more.”
Jack leaned forward, placing his hands on top of the desk. “Raven and Cara are in danger, not just from the Florentines, but from ferals, mercenaries, other vampyres. They could be killed.”
“You’ve already tipped your hand by writing to the Prince and expressing your attachment. Any movement of our troops will simply place a higher price on the women’s heads.”
“Then let me go. Alone.”
The Director gave the priest a long look. “I admire your courage. But I’m not going to allow you to initiate a military engagement over two souls, one of whom is a pet.”
Jack straightened. “Our Lord left Heaven to seek and to save those who are lost.”
“I am well-acquainted with sacred scripture.”
Jack leaned closer. “Then you must know the story of the Gadarene, who was a pet to various demons. Our Lord clothed him, fed him, and rescued him from his tormentors.”
“If the women arrive at our borders, we will welcome them. But I won’t allow you to walk into the arms of our enemies and be held for ransom. Nor will I send troops outside Vatican City, unless it’s to lay siege to a stronghold we can overtake. We cannot tip our hand.”
Jack gave the Director a long look. “Are there plans to invade Florence?”
The Director shuffled a few papers on his desk. “Since your protégé was a pet, she will have to be exorcised on arrival.”
Jack touched the cross he always kept in his pocket. “I will see to it personally.”
“I have already directed some of our agents to secure the body of the fiancé. We can’t allow an autopsy to go forward, if he was killed by a vampyre.” The Director made the sign of the cross. “You are dismissed.”
Jack bowed and withdrew to the door.
“Father Kavanaugh.” The Director’s voice interrupted his movements.
He turned. “Yes?”
“The most recent intelligence out of Florence indicates that Machiavelli has been executed.”
