CHAPTER 11 #2
The vampire reached for him, clawed fingers outstretched like a giant bird of prey.
Michael let them come. I was just about to shout a warning when he shifted out of the way.
The vampire’s fingers grazed his suit jacket and grasped empty air where his neck had been.
Michael raised an arm and pinned the vampire’s nearest wrist to his shoulder.
Then he stepped back and dragged it off balance, locking the creature’s arm straight.
His heavy muscles flexed beneath the dark fabric of his suit.
They uncoiled with shocking violence as he smashed his palm into the vampire’s elbow, shattering the joint.
The vampire hissed, its face contorting into a demonic rictus. It threw an impossibly fast punch with its free hand. Michael somehow managed to duck, tensing, and took the blow on his upper back instead of his face. An echo of his pain shot through me, making me stumble.
Michael didn’t stumble. He didn’t even slow.
He reacted. Like he’d been punched a thousand times and this was nothing new.
Like he’d been trading blows with vampires his whole life.
And to think, the first time I saw him, I’d doubted he’d ever been in a fight.
This would teach me to not judge a book by its cover.
He took the hit and kept spinning, one leg planted, the other slingshotting forward.
The heel of his expensive Italian loafer connected with the vampire’s solar plexus with a sickening thud, and the vampire flew backward.
Michael surged forward with him, managing to land several blows even as the vampire fell.
I stared at him in confusion. He was so fast. How was he this fast?
Suddenly, I felt a gentle breeze rush past me, and the hair on my arms stood on end. Aether permeated the air.
Magic.
“I can’t do anything,” the witch said from beside me. I’d forgotten she was there. She must have tried to cast a spell. “They’re too close. I might hit your friend.”
“It’s okay. Stay here,” I told her. I’d had just about enough of watching a vampire try to hurt my mate.
The vamp in question was back on its feet.
Michael stepped in and dropped low, aiming a sweeping kick at its ankles.
The bloodsucker saw the move coming and leapt up on legs that seemed made of springs.
It shot straight into the air, back arched, knees drawn to its chest. A murderous gleam appeared in its eyes as it started to fall.
Oh no you don’t.
I raced forward and grabbed it out of the air, using its momentum to turn its big body and slam it down into the concrete.
I didn’t have Michael’s grace, but what I lacked in training, I made up for in raw, brute strength.
The vampire’s bones shuddered. The pavement groaned beneath it.
I dropped to one knee and held it down by the throat, my claws digging in, blood for blood.
“How’s it feel, asshole?” I growled.
It squirmed beneath me and tore at my hand, ripping my skin to ribbons. Shit, that hurt! I gritted my teeth against the searing pain and squeezed harder, cutting off its airway. It stopped scratching and started trying to pull my fingers off.
Through the bond, I felt Michael move, and I looked up just in time to see him drive a wicked length of rebar straight through the vampire’s chest. Undead blood sprayed the side of my face, viscous and hot.
The creature shuddered, eyes bulging out of their sockets.
Michael wore a look of dark satisfaction as he gripped the top of the metal bar and wrenched it back and forth, mangling the vampire’s heart.
The vampire spasmed once and fell still, staring past me with dead eyes up into the night sky.
I released it and stumbled back, falling on my ass. My concentration evaporated as I bounced off the pavement, and I shrank back to my human form. Warmth dripped down my right cheek. I wiped at it with shaking fingers that came away sticky and crimson.
Oh, Goddess. We’d killed it.
The witch sprinted forward and kicked the vamp’s ribs. Her face was a mask of fury. “Fuck you, you fucking fuck!” She pulled back and kicked it again, so hard the body jerked. The next time she did it, the toes of her sneaker squelched into its flesh. “Oh, gross,” she said, hopping back.
I scuttled away from the corpse. When vampires died, the magic animating their undead bodies disappeared, returning them to their natural state.
For a vampire that was less than a year undead, that meant we were treated to a horror show of advanced decomposition.
Its skin turned sallow, yellow in some places and puce in others.
A wet sheen spread over it, taking on a glossy green hue.
Its mouth popped open and a foul wind spilled out that smelled like methane and sulfur.
I stared, transfixed by the nightmare unfolding in front of me.
The creature’s exposed flesh roiled just beneath the surface, collapsing down and then ballooning back up before popping open in sores and pustules.
Its limbs quickly lost their mass, shrinking within its clothes.
Liquid stained the fabric of its shirt and pants, a dark river of putrescent yuck draining out from its sleeves and pant legs.
Its stomach bloated outward like a beached whale.
Those nacreous eyes turned pale and milky before bursting open like overripe grapes. White slime spilled down its cheeks.
I scrambled to my feet and turned away from the sight, trying not to gag.
Behind me, the witch vomited noisily. Meanwhile, Michael felt calm and composed.
Why wasn’t he freaked out by this? Was this a common sight for a city wolf?
I tried to latch onto his calm, make it my own, but it remained just out of reach.
A few seconds later, the sibilant shifting of fabric reached my ears, and Michael’s jacket came into view, dangling off his finger.
“Here,” he said.
Oh, right. I’d ripped my dress.
He stepped close and took a deep, measured breath through his nose, scenting me.
I was so freaked out right now that the reek of my fear must have been overpowering.
The Goddess only knew what I sent over the bond.
To Michael, I probably felt close to going into shock.
I took the jacket from him and slipped it on, fingers shaking, limbs trembling. Maybe I was close to going into shock.
Michael pulled his phone out and made a call.
“Where are you?” Ronald rumbled through the speaker.
Michael relayed our location. “We have a problem. Code red. Teams one and seven to me now.”
“Roger,” Ronald said, then hung up.
The witch straightened, dragged the back of her hand across her mouth, and stumbled over to us. “Jesus fucking Christ, they’re gross when they die.”
Michael reached toward me and pulled the cotton pocket square from his suit jacket. He offered it to her. “You’re still bleeding.”
She took it and pressed it to her neck. “Thank you.”
“Can you cloak the alleyway?” he asked her.
“Way ahead of you,” she said. “The humans can’t see or hear anything in here.”
He tilted his head and inspected her. “What were you doing in the alley in the first place?”
“What I was told.”
“And what were you told?”
She clenched her jaw shut.
I stared at her. “Seriously?”
Her expression became closed off, mulish.
“We just saved you,” I said. “I heard you from down the street and came running. If not for us, you’d be dead right now.”
Beside me, Michael began setting himself to rights.
He tightened his tie, smoothed back his hair, straightened his vest, and then adjusted his cuffs.
When he spoke, it was with measured calm.
“If you don’t answer our questions, you may still succumb to your injuries.
” He stilled and raised his gaze to meet hers.
His eyes were amber. “Such a shame we were unable to reach you in time. The vampire must have broken your neck in the struggle.”
The witch took a measured step back. I almost did, too. He stared at her with the neutral gaze of a wolf, but in my head, he felt coiled like a snake ready to strike. The witch had a choice: answer our questions or die. Michael didn’t seem to care which one she picked.
She looked from him to me, her stubborn expression morphing into unease.
“Answer the question,” I urged her.
“I was told to watch you,” she said. “We felt you enter the city.”
“Just watch her?” Michael asked.
The witch nodded. “I was on my way out of here when that piece of shit dropped from the roof and grabbed me.” She glanced at the decomposing vamp. “He’s too young to have covered the distance from the Common to here so soon after sunset. He must have spent the day nearby.”
That was a troubling thought. I turned to Michael. “Shouldn’t someone have felt him in your territory?”
It was the witch who answered me. “Unlikely. He’s maybe a month undead, max? I didn’t feel him until he was right on top of me, and I have better vamp sense than most of my coven.”
A dark SUV backed into the mouth of the alley and spat out a small team of werewolves.
Monica was at their helm, her braids pulled back in a bun.
Her eyes swept the alley, assessing it in a clinical way that made me think that if she was asked later, she could recount every detail of the scene, down to the last drop of blood.
“Please excuse me,” Michael said. He turned and went to her.
“What are you, anyway?” the witch asked me. “I’ve never seen a wolf half turn like that.”
“Right now? Your savior. You’re still the enemy to them.” I nodded in the direction of the city wolves. They were swathed in black fatigues, large, well-armed, and vicious-looking. A few of them stared at her with openly hostile looks.
“But not to you?” she asked.
I shook my head. “I’m new here. I don’t really like your kind, but I’m not about to let anyone kill you after we just went through all this trouble saving you.”
She let out a heavy exhale. “Thank you. For saving me. I’m Bonnie, by the way.”