Vampire Blood (Vampire Bite #2)

Chapter Fourteen

Lucas

The air shifted, thickening with something sharp and electric. I felt it before I saw him. It was power, raw and untamed, pressing down like a weight. Then he stepped out of the shadows.

The shifter. Their leader.

He moved with an easy confidence, his steps deliberate, predatory. Dark hair fell just past his shoulders, and his eyes—too bright, too wild—locked on me with something between amusement and disdain.

“Well, well,” he drawled, lips curling into a smirk. “The vampire prince himself.” His gaze flicked to Annika, then back to me. “And his precious little human.”

I bared my fangs. “Whoever you are, you should’ve stayed hidden.”

He laughed. The sound grated against my nerves. “Hidden? No.” His eyes glinted. “I wanted you to come. I wanted you to see what weakness looks like.”

His pack fanned out behind him, forming a tight circle around us. Wolves and men, shifting and growling, their eyes gleaming in the dim light. The space felt smaller, the walls pressing in.

Annika shifted closer to me, and I felt her warmth against my side, grounding me. But the leader saw it. His grin widened.

“There it is,” he said. “Weakness.”

My claws ached to tear into him, to wipe that smug look off his face, but I didn’t move. Not yet.

“Your leash is showing, vampire prince,” he taunted, nodding toward Annika. “She’s made you soft. You’re too busy protecting her to be what you were meant to be. A predator.”

I took a step forward, forcing him to stop. “You think love makes me weak?” My voice came out low, edged with a growl. “Then you’re more foolish than I thought.”

He didn’t flinch. “No, I think it’s made you predictable.”

The pack closed in, the sound of claws scraping stone and low growls filling the air. My muscles tensed, ready to spring, but the leader didn’t move.

“Let her go,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “This doesn’t have to end with blood.”

“Oh, but it does.” His eyes gleamed. “That’s the point, isn’t it? Blood. Hers. Yours. All of it spilled for what’s coming.”

Annika stiffened beside me, but I couldn’t look at her.

I tightened my grip on my dagger. “Then let’s get to it.”

His grin stretched wider. “With pleasure.”

The first shifter lunged, claws slashing through the air. I met him head-on, steel singing as my dagger tore through flesh. Blood sprayed, hot and sharp, but there was no time to revel in the kill. Another was already coming.

I spun, dodging the next strike, and drove my blade deep into the shifter’s gut. He howled, collapsing, but more poured in, circling like wolves scenting weakness.

Annika fought beside me, a blade in her hands, small, but sharp. She was fast, ducking and twisting, her movements fierce and desperate. Kael was at her back, his strikes brutal and precise, cutting down anything that came too close.

But it wasn’t enough.

They just kept coming.

Claws ripped through the air, catching my arm, tearing through flesh. I gritted my teeth, but the pain barely registered as I drove my dagger up, slicing through the shifter’s throat. He dropped, but another took his place.

Annika cried out behind me, and I turned, heart seizing. She staggered, her blade knocked from her hand. A shifter loomed over her, teeth bared.

I didn’t think. I just moved.

I threw myself at him, slamming into his side and driving him away from her. We hit the ground hard, rolling, but I came out on top, sinking my fangs into his throat.

Warm blood filled my mouth. I tore away, leaving him gasping. Dead.

“Annika!” I shouted, already pushing to my feet. She was back on her feet, Kael covering her as another wave hit. But we were too outnumbered.

Too slow.

A blow knocked me sideways. Claws raked down my back, and I hit the ground hard. The world spun, and for a moment, everything blurred. Claws, teeth, blood.

I pushed up, vision clearing just in time to see Kael go down, pinned beneath a massive shifter.

Then, something happened. Something… incredible.

The air shifted. It thickened. It rolled over me like a tide, heavy and electric, raising every hair on my body. My head snapped toward Annika.

She stood in the center of the chaos, her chest heaving, blood smeared across her skin. Her eyes—God, her eyes—burned with light. Not just rage or fear. Power.

I froze.

So did the shifters.

The leader turned to her, his grin faltering. "What—"

Annika lifted her hands, and the earth trembled. The runes carved into the ground began to glow, pulsing brighter and brighter until the light filled the cavern.

"No!" the leader roared, lunging toward her.

I moved to intercept, but I didn’t need to.

A crack split the air, a crack as loud as thunder, and the shifter was thrown back, his body hitting the wall with a sickening crunch.

Annika didn’t stop.

The light poured from her now, blinding and wild, wrapping around her like fire. The runes flared, and the shifters began to falter, stepping back, shielding their eyes.

I’d never seen her like this before.

She spoke then, her voice layered, echoing through the cavern. It wasn’t her voice alone. It was older. Stronger.

“You will not take her.”

Her words cracked like a whip, and the light erupted outward. It slammed into the shifters, sending them flying, pinning them to the ground. They writhed, howling, but they couldn’t move.

I staggered back, my instincts screaming at me to run, but I didn’t. I couldn’t.

Because it was Annika.

She turned to me, her eyes still glowing, her expression fierce and unyielding. For a moment, I didn’t recognize her.

Then her gaze softened. Her lips parted. “Lucas.”

The light faltered. She stumbled.

I was there before she fell, catching her, pulling her against me as the glow faded. Her body trembled, her breaths shallow, but she was alive.

The shifters were scattered, groaning or unconscious. This was our moment to run. I held Annika in front of me, her body limp against my chest. Her breathing was shallow, too shallow, and every uneven rise and fall of her shoulders sent another bolt of fear through me.

We rushed out of the crypt, back the way we came from, constantly looking back. I had no idea what it was that Annika did, but I knew that she had saved us.

As soon as we saw the gleam of pale moonlight, we headed to our horses. I gently placed her on mine.

“Follow me!” Kael instructed. I knew better than to argue.

Kael rode ahead, his horse cutting through the dense forest like it had been bred for this. He didn’t look back, didn’t slow, but I could feel his urgency in the way he rode. He was scared too.

I tightened my arms around Annika, pressing her closer, like that could keep her here, keep her safe. Her head lolled against me, strands of her hair sticking to her sweat-dampened skin.

“Stay with me,” I murmured, my lips brushing her ear. “Just a little longer, Annika. Don’t give up.”

No response.

The horse beneath me shifted, its muscles straining as we cut through the forest. I forced my focus outward, scanning the shadows for any hint that we’d been followed. But nothing came. Only the steady drum of hooves and the whisper of wind through the trees.

Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that time was slipping away.

“She’s burning up,” I called out to Kael. My voice sounded raw, too sharp. “How much farther?”

“Not far,” he shouted back. “A few more miles.”

A few more miles felt like too much.

Annika shifted weakly, her fingers curling against my arm. The faint movement hit me harder than any blow I’d ever taken. Relief and terror tangled inside me. She was still fighting. But for how much longer?

“You’ll be okay,” I whispered, more to myself than to her. “You have to be okay.”

Kael urged his horse faster, and I followed, pushing my mount until its breaths came in ragged bursts. My own heartbeat thundered in my ears, drowning out everything else.

I didn’t know this shaman Kael spoke of. I didn’t know if they could save her. But I didn’t care.

I’d ride through hell itself if it meant keeping Annika alive.

Finally, we stopped at the mouth of a cave. The entrance yawned open like a wound in the earth, dark and uninviting. Its edges were jagged and slick with moss. I tightened my grip on Annika, feeling the faint rise and fall of her breath against me. It was too shallow, too fragile.

Kael slid off his horse, boots hitting the ground hard. He turned to face me, his expression sharp, lined with frustration. “This is it,” he said, gesturing toward the cave. “The shaman’s inside.”

I didn’t move. My instincts screamed at me to be careful. The cave felt wrong, like a place that devoured light and sound. And Kael, no matter what he’d done, was still an outsider.

“You’re sure?” My voice came out rough.

Kael’s jaw tightened. “If I haven’t proven myself trustworthy by now, Lucas, I never will.”

I stared at him, letting the weight of his words hang in the air. He didn’t look away. Didn’t flinch.

I hated how much I wanted to believe him. Hated that he might actually deserve it.

Annika stirred in my arms, a faint sound escaping her lips. It wasn’t a word, just a breath. A plea.

Damn it.

“Fine.” I slid off the horse, keeping Annika close as I landed. Her weight felt heavier now, like her strength had seeped out entirely during the ride. My stomach knotted. I couldn’t waste another second.

Kael stepped toward the cave entrance without another word. I followed, my boots crunching against dirt and stone.

The cave swallowed us quickly. Shadows pressed in from every side, thick and suffocating. The air was damp, heavy with the scent of earth and something faintly metallic… blood or magic, I couldn’t tell which.

Kael led the way, his steps confident, but mine slowed the deeper we went. My eyes darted to every corner, searching for threats, for traps.

“Keep up,” Kael muttered, not bothering to look back.

“Don’t push me,” I snapped. “Not when I’ve got everything to lose.”

He paused at that, just for a second, before continuing forward. I didn’t miss the tension in his shoulders.

Good. He should be tense.

Because if this was a trick, if this ended with Annika slipping away in my arms, then no force on earth would save him from me.

Then, a small dimly lit chamber opened up before us. There was a flickering fire, and standing in front of the flames was the shaman, with a look of expectance on her face.

She was a woman, older than me, with long, silver hair that seemed to shimmer even in the low light. Her robes were dark, draped elegantly over her form, the intricate symbols sewn into them pulsing with a faint glow. There was an air of quiet power about her, something ancient, something dangerous.

And, worst of all, something knowing.

She didn’t flinch as we entered. Instead, she simply turned her eyes to Annika, resting weakly in my arms, and then back to me. Her gaze was piercing, like she’d known we would come, like she’d been waiting. She smiled upon seeing Annika in my arms.

“Ah, the witch child… just as I saw…”