Bittersweet Blood (The Order #1)

Up ahead, Tara slowed until she came to a halt at least twenty feet from the end of the alley.

Keep moving, he urged, silently. She could still come out of this unharmed if she reached the main street—nothing would follow her there. It took him mere seconds to realize why she had stopped. A demon blocked her path. From a distance, it appeared almost human, only the dusky red skin identified it as something from the Abyss. That and the rank odor that intensified as Christian moved closer. The demon appeared oblivious to him, all its concentration on Tara. Christian drew his knife; he could take the thing down before it touched her.

A second demon slithered down the wall to Tara’s right. Christian went still. His knife was raised and ready to throw, but he glanced between the two, unsure which presented the greater threat. While he hesitated, the second demon leapt for Tara. It landed catlike on her shoulders, and she crashed to the ground under the weight. Her head cracked as it hit the concrete, and she lay unmoving, the demon crouched on her chest.

A wild fury roared through Christian and he reacted without thinking. All his muscles tensed, and he flew the last few feet landing close beside them. His free hand gripped the demon’s tangled hair; he ripped it away from Tara and flung it against the wall. It clambered to its feet, a low hiss emerging from the narrow, skinless lips. Up ahead the first demon drew closer, and from behind him came the unmistakable scent of a third.

He cast Tara a quick glance. Lying on her side, her hair covering her face, she appeared unconscious, but Christian could see no visible damage.

“Give us the woman, and you may go.”

The first demon spoke. All three stood, side by side. Why weren’t they running? They seemed unafraid, but had to know they were no match for a vampire.

“Let us have the woman, and you can go on your way, Christian Roth.”

Christian frowned. “What do you want with her?”

“A little fun.” The demon licked its lips. “A little food.”

Adrenaline coursed through his system and his excitement rose. It had been years since he’d had a good fight. One of these lesser demons would have been a miserable waste of time, but three might give him a good workout. He held the knife loose in his hand and waited for them to make a move.

Two of them attacked without warning. Christian braced his legs and stood his ground. At the last moment, he raised the knife and impaled one through the throat. He pushed it away, wrenching the blade free, and the second was on him, grappling, its sharp pointed teeth snapping at his face. It latched onto his shoulder, slicing through the leather of his coat and sinking its fangs deep into his flesh.

The demon was incredibly strong, and too late he remembered Ella’s comment that lesser demons were borrowing power from something stronger.

Ignoring the pain, Christian brought his free hand up, took hold of its throat, and ripped it away. His shoulder tore as the teeth remained locked into the muscle. Then he was free. He tightened his hold on the creature’s neck, and the bones snapped under his fingers. Tossing the body from him, he spun to face the third demon. His shoulder was on fire and blood ran down his arm. He needed to finish this before he weakened.

The last demon circled him warily. It sniffed the air, muscles tensing, and Christian realized it was poised to run. He hurled the knife, taking the demon straight through the heart.

For a moment, he stood panting. Nothing moved, and he crouched beside the body. The demon was dead. He dragged his knife free and used it to sever the head with one hard downward stroke. The scent of warm blood rose up and he swayed toward it, then forced himself back. They were dead—too late to feed now. He worked quickly, cutting off the other two demons’ heads and watching them disintegrate into a pile of greasy gray ashes.

He rolled Tara onto her back and skimmed his hands over her. She moaned but didn’t regain consciousness. Her face was pale, except for a dark bruise blossoming on her forehead. Rising to his feet, Christian swayed and rested his hand against the wall for balance. He was losing blood fast.

He needed to get Tara away, but there was no way he could carry her back. Besides, the streets were busy, and they’d hardly be inconspicuous. He pulled out his phone to call Graham, but at that moment a black SUV appeared at the head of the alley. The driver’s door opened, and Piers grinned at Christian.

“Shame about the coat,” he said. “Need a lift?”

…