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“Well, well,” a familiar voice said behind him.
Dylan.
“Need some help climbing over the railing?”
Some other guys laughed.
Levka didn’t turn away from the railing, couldn’t let go for fear he’d collapse in front of them. He couldn’t gauge how many there were behind him, but as weak as he felt, even two husky male teens would be enough to overpower him.
Dylan shoved Levka’s shoulder hard. “You and your buddies better leave my girl alone, or else—”
“Too insecure to take on my friends? Have to go after the guy in the wheelchair?”
“Why, you—” Dylan said, his voice dangerously dark.
“Levka!” Caitlin called out from farther back on the deck.
Gripping the railing for dear life, Levka looked over his shoulder and saw Caitlin running across the deck, her dark hair flying, her lips parted, her eyes worried.
Four boys were backing up Dylan’s threats.
“Stop her,” Dylan ordered, motioning to her.
Two of the guys went after Caitlin. She backed away from them, her hands clenched. “Dylan, leave him alone!”
One of the guys grabbed for her arm, and she swung her fist at his cheek. The other seized her wrist.
Instantly, Levka released the railing, twisted around, and grabbed Dylan’s throat with one hand. “Have your thugs release Caitlin, now,” he growled low, his vampiric gaze locking with the mortal’s.
Dylan’s blue eyes bulged. Clawing at Levka’s hand on his throat, he couldn’t speak, but finally waved for the others to let her go.
“Levka!” Caitlin screamed and flew across the deck toward him.
“Leave us,” Levka said to Dylan.
Dylan nodded, his fingers still grappling with Levka’s hand at his throat, his eyes watering.
Levka released him and reached for the railing, but found Caitlin’s arms wrapped around him instead.
“Let me help you,” she said, embracing him hard.
She felt warm, soft, and huggable. Her jasmine perfume teased his nose, and he nuzzled his face against her neck, listened to the blood pulsing through her veins, heard her heart pounding, felt her warm breath rapid against his ear.
“Are you all right?” she asked, still hugging him with a death grip.
Cassandra came to mind and all the anguish he’d felt in losing her washed over him like a cold blue norther.
“Help me into the wheelchair,” he said, his voice rough, unfeeling, ill-tempered. He couldn’t, wouldn’t fall for another mortal girl. He wouldn’t drag another into his dark world.
Caitlin stumbled when she tried to help him into the chair. She was only about five feet-four inches tall and he, a little over six feet. She couldn’t manage, and the two of them fell to the deck. He groaned.
“Ohmigod. I’m so, so sorry, Levka.” Her small hands were all over his arms, his shoulders, his hands, trying to console him for her mistake. “I’m such an idiot. Here, let me try again.”
“No!” he snapped, unable to control his anger that he was so inept, that he’d made her feel so inadequate. “Leave me.”
She stared at him. “But what if they come back? Dylan and those creeps? What if—”
“Go!” he said, giving her a devil of a glare.
