Gael moved beside me, his motions fluid, calculated. He grinned, sharp and bloodthirsty, as if he thrived in moments like this.
“I’ll keep them busy,” he said. “You?—”
“They’ll shoot you on sight,” I interrupted, pulling my knife free. “And I’m not letting you go alone.”
He gave me a sideways glance, something unreadable flickering across his face, but before he could respond, the hunters opened fire again.
We dove in opposite directions, the concrete floor biting into my palms as I rolled behind a stack of crates.
Gael was a blur of motion, darting from shadow to shadow, drawing their attention.
The sound of gunfire filled the air, deafening and sharp, followed by the splintering of wood as bullets tore through the crates.
I peeked out, saw Jackson advancing cautiously, his gun trained on the spot where Gael had vanished.
With a deep breath, I sprang up and threw my knife. It wasn’t a killing throw, I wasn’t ready to cross that line, but it hit its mark.
The blade sank into Jackson’s shoulder, and he cried out, his gun clattering to the ground.
“Cover me!” I shouted at Gael, already moving toward Jackson.
“Cover you?” Gael called back, his tone incredulous but tinged with amusement. “Do I look like your sidekick?”
A shot rang out, grazing my arm, and I hissed in pain. The second hunter, Marcus, was already aiming for another shot.
I dove behind a pillar, pressing a hand to the wound.
It wasn’t deep, but the sting was enough to remind me just how outmatched I was.
A blur shot past me. Gael, moving faster than my eyes could track.
He closed the distance to Marcus in an instant, disarming him with a vicious swipe.
The hunter stumbled, and for a moment, I thought Gael might kill him.
But instead, he knocked the gun aside and twisted Marcus’s arm, forcing him to the ground.
Relief was short-lived. Jackson had recovered enough to grab his gun, and his aim was now on me.
I saw the muzzle flash before I heard the shot.
Time seemed to slow. I felt the impact in my thigh before the pain hit, a searing fire that sent me sprawling.
My knife was still in Jackson’s shoulder, but his resolve didn’t waver.
He stepped closer, gun steady, and I knew I wouldn’t dodge the next shot. But then Gael was there.
The vampire moved with terrifying speed, his hand knocking the gun aside just as it went off.
The shot missed, ricocheting off the floor.
In the next second, Gael had Jackson pinned against the wall, his fangs bared, eyes glowing with savage fury.
For a moment, I thought he’d sink his teeth into Jackson’s neck.
My heart thundered, not from fear, but from something more complicated, darker.
“Gael!” I shouted, my voice hoarse. “Don’t kill him!”
