She nodded, using the back of her hand to swipe away the last of the blood that had trickled down her throat. Holding the knife in one hand, a wooden stake in the other, she eyed the churning crowd before us, her face stoic but her gaze fiery with the promise of retribution.
“And no matter what, Delilah is the priority.” I tried to protest, but Archer shot me a look that dared me to disagree. “If things go sideways, you get her out.”
“I got you covered, bestie,” Vine said, winking at me, and I gave him a grateful smile in return.
With that, we moved, the three demons surrounding me as Archer’s shadows dropped and we headed for the exit. We’d only made it a few feet before the first vampire attacked, his movements frenzied as he swiped at Mex’s face with an inhuman scream. She ducked, one hand swinging out to stab him in the stomach with the knife while the other came up in a low arc. Before I’d even registered what she was doing, the stake was buried in the man’s chest, his body crumpling to dust just as the other’s had. Placing one booted foot on his ribcage, Mex yanked the stake out of his chest with a sickening sound and moved forward once more.
Wave after wave of vampires came at us, and every time they were pushed back, either by a viciously snarling Mex or a sadistically laughing Vine. From outside the mansion, lightning continued to crash, the blinding flashes that illuminated the tall windows mixing with the colored lights that still danced around the chaotic ballroom.
Finally, we reached the hallway that Genevieve had used, the corridor dark and strangely empty. Pressing close,Vine and Mex entered first, shoulder to shoulder as they scanned for threats. Archer ushered me in ahead of him, one hand on my back as though he had to know where I was at all times.
As we crept through the dark, I could hear a strange noise coming from up ahead. The sound wasn’t human, but it wasn’t fully animal either, the strange duality of it piquing my interest.
“Archer,” I whispered, hoping he’d heard it too. “What is that?”
“Keep moving. It’s not our business.” was all he offered, but even in the dark, I could see his unhappy scowl.
Frowning, I gripped my stake tighter, my ears straining to gauge the direction of the strange cry I’d heard. It wasn’t until we were halfway down the hall that it came again, and this time there was no doubt. It was most definitely a cry of someone in pain.
And it was coming from the room beside me.
Without hesitating, I dashed through the door, ignoring Archer’s angry shout from behind me, and stumbled to a halt when I realized what I was seeing.
It was some sort of study, with a desk and sitting area to one side, the other walls lined with dark wood bookcases. The smell of aged parchment and oldleather—one I normally found comforting—was tainted by the bright, coppery scent of blood.
In the center of the room was the shifter from before, still naked and still on his knees, his body held still by the grip hisownerhad on the leash. In her other hand, she held a short whip, which she brought down on the shifter’s back over and over, each strike causing him to let out that inhuman sound I’d heard from the hall.
“You stupid mutt,” she snarled, the whip striking against his broad back, leaving a vicious, bloody slice in his skin each time. “What use are you to me if you won’t fight?”
The shifter grit his teeth, his hands fisted against the floor where he knelt, straining against the collar. I could see the skin of his neck was red and swollen, the collar digging in painfully where he pulled to escape her.
As I entered the room, he looked up at me, his eyes meeting mine, and the pain that was held in their depths struck me on a soul-deep level.
This man needed help, and I wasn’t about to abandon him.
Behind me, Archer burst through the door, no doubt to give me shit for running away, but I acted before he could say a word.
“Hey!” I called, drawing the attention of the vampire to me. Her eyes were red, burning with rage and hatred, and she hissed at me, her displeasure with my interruption clear. “Think fast!” I called, throwing one hand out to the side to pull her attention while simultaneously tossing my stake to the shifter with the other. He caught it easily, and while his captor’s gaze was still on me, he moved, rising to his feet and catching the vampire’s throat in his grip.
The vampire turned, her eyes wide as she took him in, his height making him easily a foot taller than her. Struggling against him, she twisted and pulled, but there was no escaping the shifter’s crushing hold.
“Let me go!” she wheezed, releasing both the whip and the leash as she pulled and clawed at his hand. “I am your master! You do as I say!”
“I have no master,” he snarled, the words pouring out of him on a low rumble that I could feel in my bones. “And I willneverfight for you again!”
With that, he struck, lodging the stake deep into the chest of his tormentor.
I watched him as he watched her die, the fury in his eyes never abating as her corpse decayed at his feet.
When it was done—when he was certain that she would never rise again—he turned to face us, wary but undaunted.
“I can help,” I offered, gesturing to the collar and leash that still hung from his neck. The metal burned at every point that it touched his body, his skin reddened and inflamed from the contact.
Using silver was just cruel, and I kind of wished that the vampire was still alive so that he could kill her once more.
I stepped forward, and the shifter stepped back, raising fists defensively.
“You will not harm a hair on her head,” Archer said, low and deadly. “My mate may mean to help you, but I have no qualms about leaving you to your fate.”
