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An eerie laugh echoed all around him. He pushed it out of his head, focusing solely on the Nightwalker huddled over Tabby.
He didn’t dare swing the bloodied blade wh
ile the bastard was that close to her. Hoping his fangs weren’t embedded in her throat, he grabbed the Nightwalker by the back of his neck, purposely piercing him with his claws, and yanked.
Good news: he wasn’t chewing on Tabby’s neck when Adam pulled him away from her. Bad news: he’d definitely already started to feed on her. Twin points of deep red stood out on the pale column on her throat.
Her eyes were closed.
She better still be breathing.
It was the only thought in Adam’s head as he held onto the struggling vamp. Blood dripped down his chin—Tabby’s blood.
When it came to killer Paras, Adam Wright was judge, jury, and executioner. The Nightwalker would’ve drained Tabby if no one stopped him. He deserved more than a quick death at Adam’s hands. He deserved to suffer, but there was no time for that. Not while Tabby lay still on the road.
As soon as he finished off the Nightwalker, he threw the corpse away, tossed the machete after it to free his hands, then swooped Tabby up.
She didn’t even twitch.
He cradled her. With her eyes closed, forehead furrowed in undeniable pain, she seemed so much smaller; it was her confidence and her good nature that made her seem bigger than she actually was. He lifted her easily, holding her against his chest, tamping down the angry hiss that had him wanting to tear down the entire fucking world for making him realize just how tiny and vulnerable his slayer was.
His fury was a buzzing in his skull. He spun in a circle, instincts demanding he look for any other threat to Tabby. Rafe was gone. It was the first thing he noticed, followed by relief that Priscilla had disappeared again, too.
As did Virginia.
The Wolfe brothers remained. Shea, wrapped up in Colt’s arms. And a very naked Travis who had shifted back from his jaguar shape, a thunderous expression on his face as he stared down the empty road.
Allies. Friends. In the back of his primal mind, even the monster that Adam was now recognized that these people were not his enemies.
Didn’t matter. Carrying Tabby with him, he turned his back on the others, trying like hell to figure out what he was supposed to do next.
“Colton? Colt! Stop that.” Slapping sounds. “Put me down!”
A growl from somewhere behind him. “Not on your life.”
“She needs help!”
“Help her from here. Look at him. That bitch went after his woman. He might deny who she is to him, but the nose fucking knows, alright? He likes you, Shea, but I’m not betting your life that he won’t lash out at you right now.”
Colt had a point. Adam hated having to admit it, but the shifter was right.
Some part of him wanted to deny that Tabby was his. After the way he felt like she betrayed him, he had to acknowledge that this—whatever it was they had together—was probably more one-sided than he liked. She never hid the fact that she was in it for the sex, for the experience. He was the dumbass who let his heart get involved.
Holding her, watching the blood trickle from her throat, was like someone had ripped his heart from his chest and crushed it. He wasn’t mad at her anymore. He didn’t even see her blood and ache for a taste.
He just wanted her to be okay.
He was in a fog. A cloud. Nothing made sense. Everything boiled down to him and Tabby, and though something beat at his brain, he couldn’t focus enough to understand what it was that he was neglecting.
A familiar voice. A sweet voice. It reached him through the blood-red haze. Still clutching Tabby like a lifeline, he surfaced just long enough to realize that someone was calling him.
“Adam? Listen to me. Adam! You have to stop her from bleeding, okay?”
“How? I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to do! I’m not a doctor, Shea.”
“No, but you’re a Nightwalker. Your kind can heal. Use your tongue on the wounds. Trust me. It’ll work.”
He physically recoiled before turning to face the witch. It didn’t seem right, tasting Tabby’s blood like this. He didn’t trust himself. What if he tried to heal her and, instead, he fell prey to bloodlust? He couldn’t risk it.
