his slacks to pull out a cell phone. “Useless. We’ll have to dump you somewhere obvious so he can find you again. Maybe near that hedonist brother’s nightclub.” Luke paused in tapping on the screen to point the phone at him. “You just have to fucking pray he doesn’t kill you when he finds you, or this has all been a waste for everyone.”
Fox couldn’t think. Didn’t want to think. Damon had wanted him to get stolen by Winter? It had been his plot from the beginning, and Winter had fallen straight into it.
Did that mean he needed to get away from the Variks as quickly as possible?
There was no chance to think further on it. The veil parted directly in front of Luke and Winter stepped into the room with a large knife clenched in his right fist and a smaller one was in his left. The expression on his face was like nothing Fox had ever seen. It was colder than his name while ice filled his eyes.
For a heartbeat, time stood frozen. Luke and Winter stared at each other. Fear filled Luke’s face while Winter was only emotionless determination.
And then the Angel of Death was in motion. The long knife surged forward, digging deep into Luke’s chest. The vampire sucked in a harsh breath and when he exhaled, it was in a loud scream.
“Varik!”
Winter finished the vampire off with a brutal slash across his throat, splashing bright red blood over the white walls. But it was already too late. The house exploded into action. Feet thundered down the stairs and doors banged open.
“Fox! Run!” Winter shouted.
Fox was still frozen in his chair, not sure he could even get his legs to work. He’d just sat there and watched Winter kill another vampire with frightening ease. He’d never witnessed such violence before.
Luke fell to the floor like a sack full of wet cement, his blood soaking into the large throw rug with an abstract design of bright colors.
“Fox!” Winter shouted a second time, and it was enough to wake him from his mindless stare at Luke’s body.
He needed to move. Needed to run.
But he couldn’t run. More vampires were piling into the room, rushing at Winter. He was painfully outnumbered. Fox needed to do something, but he wasn’t sure what.
Standing to the side, he watched as Winter deftly sliced at one vampire after another, filleting them like so much meat heading to market. When they became too much, he slipped away, disappearing completely, only to reappear a couple of seconds later behind one or two vampires and chopping their heads off. Blood splashed everywhere, coating the walls, furniture, and even Fox.
It was clear Winter had everything under control. He didn’t need a useless witch getting in his way. He started edging around the fighting vampires toward the front door when the guard who’d ushered him into the house stepped into the opening. Fox’s head jerked toward Winter to find that his back was to the guard as he fought a hissing woman with a shaved head. Winter didn’t see the guard.
With the angriest cry Fox could muster, he launched himself at the guard, trying to tackle him to the ground. If he could just buy Winter a few seconds, the guard wouldn’t be able to surprise him. Winter would be safe.
Slamming into the guard was like hitting a brick wall. The fucker was solid muscle. Even with all of Fox’s body weight hammering into him, the man staggered only a few steps and shouted in surprise. He grabbed Fox by the shoulders and threw him across the hall. Pain exploded along Fox’s spine and then his head a second later as he hit the wooden edge of what felt like the banister to the staircase. He slid to the floor, sending more pain through his hip.
God, it hurt to fucking move, but he had to for Winter.
Blinking away white stars, he focused on the guard to find Winter already on him, stabbing him viciously like a man possessed. Fox blinked again and Winter kneeling in front of him, a bloody hand gently cradling his cheek.
“Fox, can you hear me? Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he said, wincing. “Banged my head.”
“Can you get up?” Winter asked, but he was already carefully helping Fox to his feet.
The house was now frighteningly silent again. No sounds of anyone moving. No footsteps. No doors opening and closing. No one. Just Winter’s heavy breathing and the frantic beat of Fox’s heart in his ears.