One Immortal - Tia Louise Page 0,30
try to drop down on our backs and sink his fangs into our skulls.
“You smell delicious, hunter.” Crouched like a giant bird, he smiles and licks his tongue at me. “I’m sorry I won’t get to eat you.”
Cold hands clamp around my neck as his final words are spoken, and before I’ve had a chance to regain my footing I’m in the clutches of a strong vampire.
“Fuck!” I growl, shooting out my palm and making contact with the forehead of the same killer clown who scampered down the wall at me last night.
I’m not strong enough to fight him off, but my quick movements keep his fangs from sinking into my neck. His teeth slice through my shoulder, ripping my shirt and leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
He rises up almost faster than I can see and starts another plunge for my neck.
“No,” I shout, reaching for the stake in my back pocket as I twirl in the dim light. It’s out, but I’m bit. His fangs pull a deep drink of shifter blood from my veins.
A heavy, black body dives across my opposite shoulder, hitting the demon in the chest, loosening his hold on my neck and sending him staggering back. At the same time, my attacker falls to his knees, screaming in agony from the burn of shifter blood.
My neck is on fire from the residual vampire saliva making contact with the shifter in my veins. It takes me a moment to find my balance, but in that time, I’m aware two more have joined their ranks. We’re outnumbered, and we’re surrounded.
Stuart seems to have grown larger as his shoulders bulge. He’s standing guard beside me, and I’ve only just caught sight of Patrick finishing the homeless-man-turned-vampire.
“Why have you returned, hunter?” The old one hisses. “We’re not troubling you.”
Bargaining with bloodsuckers turns my stomach, but in this case, we have to be sure we’ve found what we’re after. I want no false sense of security. I want to know for a fact I’ve killed the one who killed Alison.
“Six years ago you left this cemetery for New Jersey,” I say. “While you were there, you lured a young woman into the woods, where you bit her, drained her of blood, and left her dead in a shallow grave.”
The bloodsucker’s face doesn’t move. He’s like a marble statue watching me charge him with the crime.
“That woman was my wife.”
Patrick’s at my side now, and I stand with my two brothers facing three agents of darkness. It’s the chant. We’re here for justice.
“I don’t know time, hunter, and I stopped remembering kills long ago.” The vampire’s voice is scratchy with age. His skin is almost translucent in the growing moonlight. A quick glance tells me it’s a full moon tonight. They’ll be stronger than any other night of the month. Fuck.
Focus. Stuart is in my head. We can handle this.
Even though I was his commanding officer as a Marine, in shifter form, he’s the alpha, and his word calms my racing thoughts.
Say her name, Stuart says.
“Alison Spencer Alexander,” I say. “Princeton, New Jersey.”
A swirl in the air behind me, and it’s too late to wait for a confession. Patrick’s yelp pierces the night, and I feel the pain of the knife blade slicing through his shoulder. I have only a second to lunge forward when the second one is on top of me, scratching and clawing for my throat. It was enough time, however, and I’m able to plant my boot in the fiend’s chest and shove it hard against the opposite wall of crypts.
Patrick’s wounded, and the fucker on him is pulling back for another stab. Stuart dove at the old one just as the ambush happened, and I see him ahead snapping and biting at the ancient being. The fiend is moving fast, evading every attack and landing kicks on my partner’s muzzle and ribs.
I can only choose one of them to save as I whip the gun from my boot.
BAM! BAM! BAM! The bare concrete around us amplifies the gunshot noise, and the vampire on my younger partner falls dead at his feet.
Patrick’s lying on his side on the cobbled walk, and I go to him, looking back to see how Stuart has fared. He’s managed to get the advantage by jumping onto a platform. Now he’s face to face with the killer clown, snapping and lunging for his claw-tipped white hands.
In a flash of white, the vampire grabs Stuart’s muzzle—one hand on his upper