Now.
Andre didn’t need to tell her twice. Looking down, Teagan made a visual with her landing zone then lowered her body as far as she could off the holds she was on. She let go with a small push off the slab and lifted her arms above her head to keep from hitting the rock as she fell straight down. She’d come off boulders before and she knew to keep her feet flat so there was less chance of twisting or breaking an ankle. She focused on relaxing, on keeping her body straight, and on softening her knees for impact. She fell like a cat, experienced, as if falling from this height toward the hard earth without a crash pad was the most natural thing in the world.
She expected to hit fairly hard. The fall was a good distance and she knew without the crash pad, most likely it would jar like a son of a bitch and she’d fall back on her butt. Two feet from the ground, she actually seemed to decelerate, as if time had slowed down and with it her. When her feet touched the ground, it was truly the softest landing she’d ever had.
“What the hell?” Teagan whispered, earning her another mouth washing from Grandma Trixie. “What the hell is going on.” If she was getting her mouth washed out with soap, it might as well be for a good reason.
Already she was on the ground, pulling off her climbing shoes and wiggling her toes to make certain she could run again. Grabbing her hiking boots and socks, she dragged them on as fast as she could.
The monster in the fog dove at her from above, his eyes burning right through her, streaking like a comet from outer space. She sat there, frozen for a moment while the thing just got bigger and scarier. Long, bony arms reached for her. Each hand had long, talonlike fingernails. They looked more like blades than fingernails and she was certain each was razor-sharp.
“This isn’t real. This is an illusion. This isn’t real. This is an illusion.” She chanted the mantra over and over.
“You will give yourself willingly to me,” the thing snarled, exposing his fangs as he pushed his will at her.
Her body jerked, notes in her head jarring and crashing, so far out of tune the sound hurt her ears. She didn’t take her eyes from the face. He was muttering something and he looked triumphant. She realized he believed she wasn’t moving because he’d forced a compulsion on her. She did hear a buzzing along with the jarring notes, but her mind refused to tune itself to the jangled tone. The sound made her stomach heave and bile rose in her throat.
“Uh. No. Not in your wildest dreams, you freak,” she snapped. “Illusion or not, I’m outta here.”
Her heart pounded louder, hammering in her chest, and she forced air through her lungs, remembering at the last moment what Andre had said about not giving the creature the satisfaction of hearing her fear. Andre wasn’t real either, damn it. She was just losing her mind. The tea had mushrooms in it. Something. Right? There was no stilling her pounding heart.
The hell with that, Andre. You aren’t here. I’m scared and there’s no way to control it. Still, she didn’t move.
I am with you.
How could he sound so arrogant? So confident? How could his voice resonate with her body so that every single cell reached for him? And where exactly was he? Invisible? Because she sure as hell didn’t see him. Real or not, if this thing wasn’t a vampire, she didn’t know what it was. She was in desperate need of her grandmother’s vampire-hunting kit.
The undead’s burning eyes widened and his mouth stretched in glee as he reached with his bony hands. She rolled fast, away from the rock, toward the narrow trail. One fingernail sliced open her shoulder, ripping right through the material of her shirt. It burned like nothing she’d ever experienced before. She had presence of mind to snag her climbing shoes as she rolled and then she was up on her feet and running.
“This isn’t happening. There’s no such thing as vampires. There’s really no such thing. I’m freaking out, having delusions!” she shouted as she kept running. “They aren’t real. My grandmother’s nuts and I’m nuts, too. None of this is real.”
Something streaked above her head. She felt a terrible wind nearly blowing her off her feet as it passed, and then she heard the vampire shriek. She halted abruptly, spinning around, her heart in her throat. Andre was in front of the vampire, his solid body between her and the terrible creature. His fist appeared to be inside the undead. Black blood ran in streams down the monster’s chest. He spit venomous acid at Andre. Teagan knew it was acid because it burned Andre’s skin.
“Oh my God. Oh my God.” She wanted to cover her eyes and ears and drown out the horrible creature’s screams.
The vampire raked viciously at Andre’s face, tearing long, deep furrows in the skin, opening the wounds so that his blood flowed freely. She gasped as the creature drove his teeth into Andre’s throat—or rather tried to do so. Andre, with his fist and now part of his arm buried in the vampire’s chest, turned his body slightly so the teeth sank into his shoulder.
The vampire tore out a chunk and, to Teagan’s horror, began gulping at the blood. She couldn’t run. Real or not, she couldn’t leave Andre to face such a terrible thing. She had no garlic, she didn’t have a stake or holy water, none of the things in her grandmother’s kit. She looked around and found a rock, one that would fit her hand, her only weapon. Maybe if she bashed the vampire over the head, it would give Andre time to sharpen a stick so he could drive it through the heart of the beast. If her grandmother actually wanted to hunt and kill one of these things, she really was nuts.
Teagan caught up the rock and took two steps toward the two men. Andre was covered in his own bright red blood as well as black blood from the vampire. Everywhere the vampire’s blood touched him, it burned his skin. Worse, it burned through his skin. Teagan didn’t see how he could stand the pain.
Andre didn’t move. Didn’t defend himself from the raking nails or the savage teeth. He began to pull his arm back. There was a sickening sucking sound. The vampire screamed horribly, the sound nearly bursting her eardrums. She saw his hand rear back, his terrible, bony fingers curl into a fist, and he drove it straight into Andre, right beneath his heart. She cried out and ran toward them.
Stay back.
Andre’s voice was absolutely devoid of all feeling. There was no pain, no fear, only a cold order.
Teagan skidded to a halt. There was no question of leaving. Andre’s body was shredded by teeth and talons. Up close she could see the vampire had buried his hand in Andre’s chest, and Andre was withdrawing his own arm from inside the monster’s chest.
This was a scene straight from a horror movie—and she hated horror movies. Seriously, under any other circumstances she would have thrown up. There was no time for that sort of thing, even if the bile was right there in her throat. She had the rock, and Andre was being ripped to pieces.
He’s killing you. I’ll just bash him with this rock. I don’t have good aim and if I throw it, it might hit you. That was strictly the truth and she tried to convey it to him with her voice, but even mind-to-mind—especially mind-to-mind—her voice was all wobbly and she sounded like a girlie-girl ready to cry. She wasn’t ready to cry. She was ready to run. If that thing tore at her face and neck and gulped her blood like it was doing to Andre, she’d just keel over and faint or something.
Teagan took a firmer grip on the rock and stepped closer. The moment she did, Andre yanked his arm. The sucking sound was horrendous. Disgusting. Bile rose into her mouth, and the vampire shrieked loud enough to wake the dead. Rocks began rolling down the cliff face above them.
She couldn’t move, her gaze on Andre’s hand as he withdrew it from the vampire’s chest. His fist was closed tight, his arm and hand covered in black blood. Everywhere the blood touched him—which was pretty much everywhere—his skin was burned. In some places, particularly his hand and upper arm, the burn was all the way to the bone. She gagged and pressed her hand to her mouth, unable to pull her horrified gaze from Andre’s closed fist.
The vampire withdrew his hand from Andre’s chest and rich, red blood poured down Andre’s clothes. The creature seemed captivated by the flow of blood, unable to look away from it even as he reached, with a torn cry, for Andre’s closed fist.