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And we entered the Fangtabula, ready to raise hel .
CHAPTER 24
When we broke through the doors, al the memories of the last time we’d been here came flooding back. The red and black and silver color scheme, the gigantic chamber with a staircase descending to the main floor, tiled in a checkerboard of black and white. The twenty-foot ceiling stil stretched overhead, an awesome vista, but the cloth panels that had draped down to produce a labyrinth of bil owing wal s were gone.
Two stairwel s led to an upper level on either side of the room, and in the center, a three-sided railing overlooked the open area below, where a long staircase descended to the underground levels.
The bar against the left wal was empty, as were the tables and booths. A glance at the grotto on the right side of the chamber, however, stil showed a few bloodwhores who hadn’t escaped yet.
We’d have to be careful around them.
As we spread out, Roman’s children forming two rows of eight in a semicircle in back of us, we could see Terrance ascending the staircase from the underground levels, and behind him, his retinue. One I recognized from our last attack on the Fangtabula. Amazon Bitch was back, only the bodybuilder vamp had gotten rid of the fringed white pants. Now she wore a black catsuit, her muscles rippling beneath the stretch lamé material. But I didn’t recognize the rest of them.
Terrance was a dark vampire—swarthy, with curly hair that grazed the top of his shoulders. He had a sneer that seemed perpetual y ingrained on his face.
“Cease. Give over, Terrance. You can’t win and you know it.” Roman stepped forward. “Blood Wyne sent me.”
“I don’t care what your mama wants. I don’t recognize the power of the Crimson Veil.” Terrance was eyeing Roman cautiously. He was no fool; he knew how old and powerful a vamp he was facing.
Roman let out a slow hiss. “Then you are signing your death warrant.”
“It was signed the day you decided I was a threat. Now, you just have to make good on it.” And Terrance attacked.
He flew toward Roman, a blur of movement, as his henchmen spread out to take on our guards.
I found myself up against the Amazon Bitch again. She grinned when she saw me, her fangs sharp and glittering.
“I remember you, D’Artigo. You might want to rethink your company, you know, considering how ethical you consider yourself. Your companion has kil ed more humans by his own hand than al of us combined.” She jostled, her breasts bouncing lightly beneath the lamé suit. She must have just gotten implants before her death, because gravity was no threat to her and never again would be.
I circled her, aware that Roman and Terrance were engaging one another.
“I remember you, too. Decided that leather chaps weren’t the way to go, final y?”
As we sidestepped around each other, two cautious rhythms keeping pace, I zoned out the rest.
Fight your own battle, I’d learned early. Fight your own battle, and keep up your shields so you know if someone else is incoming on the side or at your back. A shriek echoed behind me, but I didn’t turn. Somebody was getting munched on.
Letting my fangs descend, I gauged her strength. If I remembered right, she and I were fairly matched, though I’d recently drunk Roman’s blood and that would give me an edge. Even now, I could feel his essence drifting through my body, his energy infusing my own, and I focused on that, cal ing it to the forefront, encouraging it like I might encourage a shy cat or a reluctant child.
My opponent arched her eyebrows and licked her lips. “You’re delicious, Menol y. I can hardly wait to sink my teeth in you and drink you dry.”
And then she flew at me, and we engaged. I dodged to the side, whirling to land a kick on her lower back as she stumbled past. She lurched but was quick to rebound. She turned, running to leap into a cartwheel, flipping once, twice, and then right over my head. When I saw what she was doing, I launched myself into the air to catch her mid-flip, and we both went crashing to the ground.
Over to my left, Roman and Terrance were grappling. Terrance might not have been an old vampire, but he was strong and Roman had his work cut out for him. They rol ed on the ground, seeking purchase with their fangs.
And out of the corner of my eye, I saw that the children were engaged in battle—a blur of cloth and skin as they danced with death and fought against Terrance’s guards. The scent of blood hung in the air, driving everyone into a stronger frenzy.
I tried to ignore it, tried to focus on my enemy. We were rol ing now, with my hands around her throat and her fingers scrabbling for my eyes. I launched a kick, bringing my knee up to land against her stomach. She moaned and lost purchase, and I rol ed her over onto her back, pressing my fingers against her throat. She didn’t need to breathe, but if I could break her neck, I’d have the advantage and be able to kil her before she healed.
I straddled her, squeezing my knees against her. Bringing my hands up over my head, I clasped them together, then swung them whistling down toward her face. She struggled, trying to get her hands free from where my legs had pinned them against her side, but she couldn’t, and my fists made contact, crushing her nose, breaking through the cartilage and bone. Even then, she’d heal if I didn’t do something to prevent it. I looked up and saw one of Roman’s sons staring at me. He tossed me a stake and I caught it firmly in my hand and brought it down into her chest.
The Amazon shuddered once, turned to dust, and was gone. I grabbed up the stake and pushed myself to my feet, turning to see that my weapons benefactor had been watching me, not interfering, but standing guard.
I grinned at him. “Thanks!” And then turned to see what was going on.
Terrance and Roman were stil fighting, but most of the other vamps had been dispatched.
Roman’s children were wel trained, although when I counted them up, I saw only fourteen. Two lost.
