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“We have no one here by that name!” another nurse shouts.
Elevator doors open, and security rushes toward them. In a blur of movement, three of the men are across the room. Blood splatters white walls as they rip open the throats of the security guards.
I cover my mouth to keep from screaming as my throat begins to constrict. Knowing I need help, I tap Bronywyn’s contact information. Honestly, I should send her a text, but if she doesn’t see it—thankfully, she answers on the second ring.
“What is it?”
“Hospital. Under attack. Vampires.” I keep the words short and do my best to whisper into the phone, cupping my other hand around the mouthpiece.
“Dammit. On our way. Stay safe.”
The call ends, so I shove the phone back into my pocket and withdraw my gun. I know blocking the door will do no good, so I turn my attention to getting Walker out of sight. Knowing I have minute—if I’m lucky—I grip his shoulder and gently shake him. But when that doesn’t work, I shake harder, willing to risk him pain if it means saving his life.
Come on, I know you’re not sedat—His eyes flutter open.
“Wh—”
I hold a finger up to my lips to silence him before gesturing to the door. He nods in understanding.
We have to go,I mouth as I go to work powering off the machines. Quickly, I detach him from the IV, pull off the oxygen tube, and disconnect the heartrate monitor.
Then I reach down and grab his arm, wrapping it around my shoulders. His movements are slow, and the blood hammering in my ears is enough to let me know my adrenaline is likely what is making me shaky. I can’t help it, though. What the hell does one do to prepare for a supernatural attack?
Shit, I spent two years traveling to the most dangerous parts of the world as a part of Doctors Without Borders, and right now, in this moment, the hospital is scarier than marching into an enemy camp surrounded by fully armed guards.
Carefully, I guide him over to the door and peek out again. The men are nowhere to be seen, which likely means they’ve moved onto another floor or—a body thuds to the floor, sliding across and slamming into the nurse’s station.
Blue scrubs are covered in blood, and I bite back a cry. These are my people—my friends being slaughtered—and I’m helpless, even as I know it’s my fault.
Walker pushes forward and peeks out, and the moment he sees the dead, his hand clenches into a fist.
Just ahead, the stairwell is free, but given the vampires’ increased speed, I don’t know how quickly we’d be able to make it clear across without being spotted.
Walker shuts the door soundlessly, leans back against the wall, and releases my hand. “You need to go. Leave me here and get help.”
“They’re here for you,” I whisper back. “And I’m guessing it’s not to deliver a get well card.”
“People are dying.”
“They cannot get to you,” I retort. “We have help on the way.” I guide him over toward the bathroom and help him inside.
He shakes his head.
“You cannot fight,” I whisper.
“I can shoot. Let me see your gun.”
“Absolutely not.” She shakes her head. “I’m the only one who shoots my gun.”
The detective sways on his feet, but manages to catch himself on the wall.
“You can’t even stand straight, detective. Get back, and I’ll do what I can to keep them from getting to you.”
Thankfully, he listens, backing slowly into the bathroom with a steadying hand on the wall. As soon as he’s situated, I turn back toward the entrance, gun in hand, breathing ragged. I know I won’t be able to do much, even with these bullets. Not against four vampires.
So as I prepare for what will probably be my death, I send up a silent prayer for the safety of everyone still out there.
The door splinters. Wood shards scatter across the floor, and in the blink of an eye, a man comes to a stop beside me. Red eyes shift from me to Walker as he tilts his head. He grins when his gaze meets mine once more.
