Page 111 of A Trial By Blood

Clay was still watching him, then he pushed away from the bar and strode after him.

“I couldn’t see his face, but there was another male in my vision, I heard his voice though.”

“St. James?”

“No. I really don’t think so.”

I quickly explained to Ronan what I saw. “He’s the one we need to find. Whoever Kelley’s working for. Clay had his effigy stolen, and it looks as if he’s worked out who was behind it as well.”

“Kelley’s the one sourcing and stealing the effigies, or at least paying people like the museum guard. He can tell us who the other male in my vision was. He’s the one we need to find.”

Ronan lifted me off his lap, and as soon as his hands left me and my feet hit the floor, someone grabbed my arm and hauled me into their side.

“My turn,” a gritty voice said before he pressed his face against my hair and breathed deeply. I tried to shove him away, but he held me painfully tight, and because of the ward, I couldn’t even use my magic. “Come on, legs, let’s go get to know each other better.”

I shoved at him again. “No…”

Ronan was a blur of movement. One moment he was by the table, the next in front of us, and his face had utterly transformed. It was as if he’d pulled on a mask, one that was as terrifying as it was beautiful. His fangs were long and deadly, his face more angled, his eyes those of a monster, and fury pulsed from him.

“Release my mate. Now,” he snarled.

“I don’t think so.” The male smiled, flashing fangs of his own.

Ronan was stone, utterly cold as he moved around him slowly, primed, muscles bunched.

The male holding me smiled, then without warning, dipped his head and sank his fangs into my shoulder. Pain sliced through me instantly, and I cried out.

Ronan roared, his hand shooting out, his fist slamming into the side of the other male’s head. His fangs were wrenched from me, tearing my flesh. The male grabbed his head, and Ronan pulled me away.

As soon as I was safely out of the way, Ronan attacked. He punched him in the throat, then grabbed his wrist and twisted, spinning it under, then wrenching his arm up.

There was a terrible pop and a tearing sound a moment before Ronan tore his arm completely off.

The male screamed, but Ronan wasn’t done. He kicked his legs out from under him, planted his foot on the male’s chest, grabbed his other arm, and twisted. The male screamed, but Ronan didn’t flinch, tearing through skin and muscle. The other arm popped from its socket, and Ronan flung that one aside, then he dropped to the floor and used his fangs to rip out his throat.

Blood pumped from the male’s convulsing body.

Ronan jumped to his feet, his eyes blazing, glowing, blood dripping down his chin. He turned to me, and I stared at him in shock. My hand was pressed to the wound at my shoulder, blood trickling through my fingers, and he closed the space between us.

“You’re bleeding,” he said, his voice unrecognizable.

People rushed to the torn-up male on the floor, and Ronan pulled me behind him, ready to do battle again. But a male stepped forward, tall and terrifying. Another vampire.

He took in Ronan, then his gaze slid to me and back. “Ronan?”

Ronan took a steadying breath and met the other male’s eyes. “Nero, your soldier attacked my mate. You’re lucky I didn’t tear his head from his body.”

The male’s brow lifted. “Your mate?” His emotionless, icy stare slid from Ronan and moved over me again. “This is new.”

Ronan stiffened.

“You would take on even me for this female?” he said, a chilly sort of amusement in his voice.

“Yes,” Ronan said without missing a beat.

The vampire inclined his head, then he turned to the others with him and motioned to his soldier still twitching on the floor. “Get him out of here.” He turned back to Ronan. “I hope to see you both at the club soon.” Then he turned and went back the way he came, as if nothing of note had happened.

Ronan hooked me around the waist, lifting me off my feet and carrying me to the elevator. The doors opened.