Slaying Monsters for the Feeble - Annette Marie Page 0,56

the papers from my grasp with no effort at all. Satisfaction tinged his smile—then his open palm struck my chest.

I pitched over backward, plunged into the gap, and smashed headfirst through a plastic panel in the ceiling below.

Chapter Seventeen

The concrete floor rushed up to meet my face—and I jarred to a painful stop, the crown of my head inches from cracking open like a dropped melon. As pieces of the broken panel rained down, my infernus hit the floor and bounced away.

Zylas clutched my ankles. He hung upside down out of the ceiling, his knees hooked over the steel grid.

A surprised exclamation. Three vampires, spread throughout the room, had frozen in the midst of their search. Dread cut through me and I slapped my palms against the floor so Zylas could release my legs. I toppled over. He dropped headfirst out of the ceiling, landed on his hands, and flipped onto his feet. I clambered up with far less grace, head throbbing from my impact with the ceiling panel, and scoured the area for my infernus.

Hungry grins spread across the vampires’ faces as they closed in on us.

Zylas grabbed my sleeve, swung me behind him, and curled his fingers. Crimson power swept across his arms and solidified into six-inch talons. The vampires didn’t so much as blink at the sight of his forbidden magic. If anything, their ravenous expressions intensified.

Their dark eyes—black sclera, white pupils, and thin red rings—ran over him. I backed away, pulse drumming in my throat. The vampires prowled closer, surrounding Zylas, and his tail lashed as he sized up his enemies.

He had to kill them quickly. I didn’t know how far the other vampires had wandered in their search for intruders, but considering the noise I’d made falling through the ceiling, they would return soon. Zylas sank lower into his defensive stance.

The first vampire sprang—and his movements were a rushing blur.

Zylas darted aside, scarcely evading the man’s grasping hands. Another vampire jumped onto his back. The demon whirled, his powerful motion throwing the vampire off. He cut open the vamp’s shoulder, but the creature didn’t even stumble. Zylas dove away, and his three opponents moved with him, attacking from every side.

And they were fast. Faster than the pair of vampires Zylas had fought in Claude’s townhouse. So fast they matched the demon’s speed.

He broke free of their ensnaring circle, only to be surrounded again an instant later. Crimson light burst off his hand. A female vampire flew backward and he thrust his talons toward the chest of another one. The vampire grabbed his wrist, halting the attack with the demon’s talons scraping his sternum. Blood drenched his shirt.

Zylas pushed into the vampire, and the vampire pushed back. Zylas slid across the concrete, overpowered, then slashed his other hand out, talons ripping across the vampire’s throat and snapping his neck. The vamp collapsed, but the other two charged him.

A door slammed open. A new vampire sprinted across the room and tackled Zylas from behind. His greaves hit the concrete with an earsplitting bang.

With their numbers returned to three, the vampires piled on him. Red power flared, then exploded off Zylas, throwing the vampires back. He sprang up, hands extended, crimson runes flashing over his arms as he prepared a spell.

A vampire kneeling on the floor caught Zylas’s outstretched wrist. Mouth gaping, the vamp wrenched the demon’s arm down and sank curved fangs into his hand.

Zylas’s magic sputtered out. He whipped around, fist swinging, and smashed his knuckles into the vamp’s face. The vampire lurched back, fangs tearing free. Zylas sprang away—and landed with an unsteady stagger.

Darren’s words from last night flashed through my head: A bite will put you down like a shot of horse tranquilizer.

But Zylas was a demon. Surely he wasn’t susceptible to—

His knees buckled.

The vampires were on him before he could fall. One grabbed his arm and bit down on his bicep. Another caught his hand, tore his sleeve out of the way, and latched onto his wrist. The third stepped behind him, a hand gripping his jaw, and pulled Zylas’s head back.

Crazed thirst burning on his face, the vampire licked Zylas’s throat, savoring the moment, then bit into the demon’s smooth skin. Zylas hung in their hold, his legs twitching weakly as he fought to move. His wide eyes stared, breath rushing from his lungs.

Horror rooted me to the spot, then I tore free of my paralysis. Daimon, hesychaze!

Nothing happened. The vampires clung to Zylas, mouths fixed on him, throats working as they