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I growled and grimly held on to Jessa’s throat. My fangs extended.
On the floor, Mila gasped for breath.
My stomach clenched. I had to end this. If her trachea was badly damaged, she could suffocate right there on the floor.
I summoned my magic, let my eyes shimmer vampire blue. “Let. Go,” I said in the voice of compulsion.
Jessa’s mouth twitched up. “Good try.” She struck again. This time, the stake’s slim point almost pierced my heart.
I gave an animal snarl, my mind awash in pain. The lucid part of me confirmed that Jessa was almost certainly a slayer—they were often chosen for the genetic quirk that made them immune to compulsion.
And her coolly efficient fighting technique told me she was from Slayers, Inc.
“Gabriel.” Mila’s rasping tone sliced through my agony.
My head jerked up. I’d blacked out, my fingers loosening on Jessa’s throat. Energy seeped out of me along with my blood.
The slayer rose up, hands locked around the stake, lips drawn back in a savage mask. I stared up at my death.
Fuck that.
I dug deep and shot up with superhuman speed, wrenching the stake from Jessa’s hand. I turned it in the air and shoved it into her throat.
Blood spurted, drenching my shirt.
Jessa’s pale eyes widened. Her hand went to her throat.
“Monster,” she rasped and toppled sideways to the floor.
I took only enough time to ensure she was really dead, and then crawled to where Mila lay struggling to breathe. I swore under my breath.
“Sweetheart.Cher. Are you all right? Can you talk?”
Her hands covered her throat. I eased them away. Her throat was red, but she was already breathing more easily. Jessa had probably pulled her punch; Slayers try to avoid collateral damage so they wouldn’t lose human support.
“I’m—okay.” She struggled up to sitting. “But you—?”
She set a hand on my chest. It came away bloody. Her eyes rounded in horror.
“Most of it’s hers,” I hurried to say, and tried not to wince. Because even speaking hurt.
“Bitch,” she croaked with a disdainful glance at Jessa, and turned back at me.
Despite my pain, my lips twitched up.
Mila’s eyes zeroed in on my wounds. “I don’t think that’s all her blood,” she rasped. “Lie down.” She guided me back to the floor. “What can I do?” Her gaze darted back to Jessa. “You think it was just her? Oh God, what if there’s more out there?”
The flood of adrenaline that had allowed me to make that last, desperate lunge at Jessa had worn off. But I managed to grab Mila’s hand, bring it to my lips.
“She’s alone. No one else…could’ve gotten past my security. Get my phone.”
She hurried to obey. I pulled up the security app and pushed the panic button for the guards, then showed her the videos of the quiet apartment. “See?”
When she nodded, I continued, “Why don’t you go…put ice on that throat.”
“What about you?” she asked in that raw, cracked voice.
My gaze slid to the dead slayer. The scent of her blood was almost unbearably tempting. But Jessa’s last word clanged in my mind.
