spun away. The katana struck only air.
“You missed,” I said, and should have known better than to tempt fate. He struck again, and although I spun away, his aim was true enough that the tip of the blade caught my forearm, seared a trail of pain there.
I grunted as the scent of blood—mine, and not willingly shed—filled the air. “Ow,” I said, and when he stopped to look, cuffed him in the ear with an elbow.
“You cut me, you ass!” I said, and reached out for the mask. It was time for our mysterious vampire friend to reveal his identity.
He ducked the grab, but responded with one of his own, grabbing the tulle at my shoulder, but the fabric ripped and tore away in his hand, the bodice coming perilously close to dropping, but managing to stay in place. It was one of the rare times I was glad not to be especially buxom; had the girls been any larger, the gaping bodice would have put on quite a show.
A pulse of magic filled the air—and there was something familiar in it. The memory faded when I tried to grab on, like a faint star disappearing when you tried to look too closely. It was frustratingly out of reach, but close enough to bluff.
“I know you,” I said.
He froze, just for a moment, and that was just enough time for me. I kicked his hand, breaking his grip and sending the sword through the air. I spun, grabbed it, and pivoted to aim the point at the pulse in his throat. His eyes moved from sword point to me and back again as he debated what he could do.
“Don’t even think about it,” I warned him.
With obvious concern, he lifted his hands into the air.
Chest heaving, I glanced at Ethan, a lock of hair across my face, tulle around one shoulder, my skirt slitted to the thigh, and my enemy’s sword in my hands.
Ethan stood above his vampire, the vampire’s katana in his hand, tilted down and just above the vampire’s throat. His hair had come unloosed, gold spilling around his regal face, his tuxedo pristine but for a slice on his left arm. I relaxed incrementally; he was safe.
Ethan took in my near state of dishabille, and his eyes went hot . . . at least before he registered the dress’s unfortunate state.
You’ve ruined another garment.
Technically, I corrected, this asshat made me ruin the garment.
I got a lifted eyebrow for my trouble, but since he hadn’t lost his gleam of arousal, I decided he wasn’t all that irritated. It was his fault for putting me in expensive dresses.
Men and women in their gowns and finery rushed toward King to offer aid.
He hadn’t actually been part of the battle, but he certainly looked worse for wear. His face was red and puffy, his collar unbuttoned, chest pumping to pull in breath.
Sanford waved off some of the men and women around him, loosened his tie. “Give me room. Let me breathe, for Christ’s sake.”
He looked up at Ethan, then me. “You saved my life.”
“We did what anyone would have done,” Ethan said, belied by the humans who’d taken the time to record the fight but hadn’t offered to help, and probably so they could sell the video to the highest bidder.
Adrien Reed stalked down the stairs, fury radiating in his expression, his eyes on us, then the men on the floor.
Reed leaned down, ripped the mask off the vampire Ethan had bested. He was pale, with blond hair so light it was nearly white, and watery blue eyes. I didn’t recognize him, and from Ethan’s flat expression, he didn’t, either.
Reed looked up at us. When we shook our heads, he moved to the second vampire, ripped the mask away, revealing familiar curly blond hair.
Oh shit, was my first thought.
Why? was my second.
As I’d suspected during the fight, I knew him. It was Will. The captain of the Navarre House guards.
* * *
I’d seen men angry before. Powerful men, supernatural men, whose anger seemed to rage like fire.
I’d never seen a man whose anger was as cold as Adrien Reed’s.
The vampires sat on the floor of Reed’s office beneath the point of our blades, and the barrels of handguns held by more of Reed’s bodyguards.
We hadn’t yet had a chance to talk to the vampires, so we were still in the dark about why, precisely, they’d come to Reed’s house to attack Sanford King. I had found my purse and taken a