Page 63 of Slayer

Everything moved too fast. I yanked the stake Asher had given me from my boot and turned to run like she said. Celia hurled a sunlight bomb, the blast making a few vampires hiss and smoke, but not all of them fell.

Instead of escape, I collided with a female vampire. Her silver eyes burned with recognition.

Sire.

I heard fighting behind me. Celia was under attack.

The sire tilted her head, blond curls flopping as she studied me. “You must be Stella.”

My blood went cold.

She knew my name?

I lunged, stake aimed for her chest, but she vanished, reappearing across the room in a blur.

“Stella, run!” Celia shouted.

I looked back to see three vampires already down, black voids punched through their chests where hearts had been.

But it felt wrong to leave.

There were only two left, including the sire, and Celia had just thrown a dude halfway across the room. Clearly, she had this handle⁠—

“Celia!” I screamed as the sire pounced on her from behind and took Celia’s head in her hands.

I didn’t think. I just ran. I had zero plan and was all instinct. I was a fast runner, had been since middle school. Something about running fast made me feel like I was leaving my past behind. It was therapeutic so long as it was in short distances. So as the sire lowered her teeth to Celia’s neck, I launched my body into the air. Forget this stupid stake. I clearly didn’t even know how to use it. I crashed into them both, knocking all of us to the ground like a bowling ball. I hit the concrete hard and rolled, stake out and ready to shove it in this woman’s chest, but Celia was already on it.

She’d been freed and was now coming down in the direction of the woman’s chest when a cluster of shadows swallowed the blond vampire up and she was gone.

Without wasting a second, Celia popped up off the concrete and yanked me upright, dragging me toward the stairwell at the back of the wall.

“I should have parked on the street. I didn’t think our scent rune had worn off,” she muttered, casting paranoid glances left and right.

We reached the stairs, and Celia and I took them two at a time, running until we reached the street. It was mercifully still sunny out. Thank God for long summer days in the inland Northwest.

When we were fully in the sunlight, Celia turned on me, her breathing still labored. “I told you to run, Stella. It was a direct order.” She was angry, her face pinched with seriousness, but her voice cracked with something else.

Fear.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “But I’m not the type to just run while someone is being attacked, even if I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Her expression thawed then, and she dragged me toward her into a crushing embrace. “Did you get hurt?” she mumbled into my ear.

“No,” I told her as she pulled back and looked me up and down.

“Okay.” She took a settling breath, her gaze scanning the crowds as if looking for threats.

“She said my name…the sire,” I told Celia.

Her brows pinched for a second but then relaxed. “Probably heard us talking before we saw them. They have expert hearing. They’ll say anything to distract you so they can attack. I know that one too. I’ve fought her before. Name is Emilie. She normally hunts in LA.”

My whole body went still.

Emilie? That was a very unique name.

“Emilie? Emilie what?”

Celia shrugged. “I don’t know. But I’ve heard her goons call her that on a few raids. She’s fast and always makes it out before I can kill her.”