serious trouble. I'd never had one glow like this when I wasn't afraid yet. I'd always assumed the cross reacted to my level of fear like a holy mood ring. Tonight, for the first time, I realized that it may have been my faith that enabled it to glow, but once the faith was in place, something else took over. Not my will, but thine.
Colin's vampires reacted just as they were supposed to. They cowered, throwing their arms or their jackets or in one case, a skirt, in front of their eyes. Hiding from the light.
Except for Colin and the black-eyed vamp. Why was I not surprised that those two were old enough and powerful enough to face the cross? They weren't happy about it. They were protecting their eyes, squinting against the light, but they weren't cowering.
"Slash me again, fang-boy, see what else falls out."
He did what I asked. I really hadn't thought he'd try. He slashed at me through the air, but the power fell away like water parting around a rock.
"If you want to hurt me, Colin, you're going to have to get up close and personal."
"I could have Nikki rip it from your throat."
"I thought you were hot shit, Colin. Or is that just when you have young men tied up and helpless? Is that what you need to feel like a big bad vampire? Someone tied up and helpless, or is it young men that does it for you?"
Colin said one word: "Barnaby."
The black-eyed vampire moved in front of Colin, closer to the cross. But he stopped, unable to come closer. Then, over the glow of the cross, I watched Barnaby's face begin to rot. That smooth flesh sloughed away, sliding in wet gobbets of flesh down his face, until tendons glistened wetly and bone showed as his nose collapsed, showing his face like a skull covered by rotted things.
He limped towards me, one hand held out, and it reminded me of Damian's hands earlier in the night. The flesh bursting in a stinking wave of blackness. Except there was no smell. The last vamp I'd seen who could rot at will had also been able to control the smell, like a magical deodorant.
If it had been a fight, I'd have drawn a gun and blown him away before he took the cross, but this was a contest of wills more than anything. If he was vampire enough to touch my cross, then I had to be brave enough to let him do it. I hoped he didn't press it between our bodies. I'd had one vampire do that, and a second degree burn on my breast wasn't my idea of fun.
The cross burned brighter and brighter as he came for me. I had to turn my head away from the light; it was so bright it hurt me to look at it. I knew it hurt the vampire more.
I felt that rotted hand slide across my chest, leaving something wet and semisolid to slide between my breasts. He grabbed the chain and not the cross, smart vampire. He jerked the chain and it broke. The cross swung into his arm, and the silver burned with a flame as white and pure as the light had been.
The vampire screamed and threw the cross, which spun in a glittering arc like a tiny comet until it was swallowed by the dark.
As my eyes adjusted to the dim lantern light once more, I said, "Don't worry about it, Barnaby, I've got extras."
He'd fallen to his knees, cradling his arm. He was still a walking rotted nightmare, but the flesh of his hand had blackened.
"But not everyone has your faith," Colin said. Again, just like in the forest, I didn't feel his vampire powers reach out, but I was suddenly afraid. Now that I knew what it was, it wasn't as bad, but it was different from any other ability I'd ever sensed. Quieter somehow, and more frightening because of it.
"Barnaby, the young blond werewolf is very afraid of you. He's tasted your kind before."
Barnaby got to his feet and tried to move around me. I stepped in front of him. "Jason is under my protection."
"Barnaby won't hurt him, just play with him a little."
I shook my head. "I gave Jason my word that I wouldn't let the vampire that did Nathaniel touch him."
"Your word?" Colin said. "You're a modern American. Your word means nothing."
"My word means something to me," I said. "I don't give it lightly."