“Get Felicia Draven and get out,” Darius yelled. “Call me with your location. I’ll send someone to get you. And kill that druid. It’s business. She’ll understand.”
Moss gritted his teeth, drowning in desire and hunger. Trying to get his thoughts back on track.
He’d barely be able to get out of the house, let alone kill a trained assassin purposely bred for the role. Darius had clearly forgotten Moss wasn’t an elder. Some things were beyond his reach.
Without delay, he shoved a younger vampire out of the way and reached for a beautiful human, her eyes dizzied with lust. The telltale sheen of sweat covered her forehead, and she was panting. She needed blood to continue the change.
He threw her over his shoulder, and then groaned as her hands explored down his back. The second he could get her to a secure location, he’d be all too happy to give her what she craved.
A loud crash tore through the house, coming from the back. Another out the side. Glass shattered as a huge wolf body crashed through the sliding glass door on the other side of the shifters.
That damn druid had sped up the shifters, he’d bet his life on it. And if he didn’t get out of there fast, his life would be exactly what he was betting.
Two
Moss dodged a lunging wolf, its jaws snapping and a line of spit flinging past him. The stench of shifter permeated the space as shapes darted in. Carmen jumped off of the writing human and into a crouch, blood dripping down her face. Her body exploded into her other form, with leathery skin, long claws, and increased reflexes. It was the vampire fighting form, similar to a shifter changing into an animal.
Canine snarls preceded a vampire screeching. A human screamed.
Moss didn’t wait around to see how it worked out.
He sped off toward the interior of the house, a direction the glorified dogs wouldn’t expect. He climbed the stairs in twos, desperately trying to ignore the firm touch of the woman on his back. At the landing, he barely caught a glimpse of a four-legged shape running in his direction.
He turned right and raced down the hall, all his focus on getting out in one piece. These wolves were clearly organized, which meant they were higher up in the shifter hierarchy. The situation had Roger, the head alpha, written all over it. That druid had gone all the way to the top.
He bit back a swear and kicked open a door before sprinting to the windows and looking down. No roof. It was a straight drop. He turned as a furry shape surged into the room after him.
Moss dropped the woman—Felicia—onto the bed before lengthening his claws. Strength and power filled every inch of his frame as the wolf attacked. He grabbed the head and whipped the body around, smashing it into the wall. One wolf was no match for a vampire of his advanced age.
The wolf rose, but Moss was there, grabbing it by the throat with his fangs and ripping out the jugular. Hot blood rolled over his tongue, heady and delicious. His senses exploded and his stomach clenched, everything in him wanting to lap it up. To give up the plight and indulge in the much needed substance.
That was a sure way to die.
With everything in him, he turned away. The door was clear, for now. He grabbed the woman and darted out of the room, giving a quick glance to make sure no one else had followed him up. They were shifters, though. They’d smell his trail. They wouldn’t be long.
He ran into the last room and found what he was after: a window leading out onto the roof. He took a moment to open it before climbing out. A moment later, a wolf loped through the door.
Moss yanked down the window and gave the doggy a wink. Wolves didn’t have thumbs, and breaking through this glass would mean it couldn’t stop in time before plunging off the roof. Sucked to have a four-legged animal for a second form.
He threw the woman over his shoulder again before jogging along the roof to the side of the house. Away from the cliff, the manicured lawn ran into coastal trees, the land quickly becoming wild. Further along and a wooden fence with a flat top closed in the backyard. He hopped onto it, jostling the woman but landing easily. With effort, he ran along the top, ignoring the snarls from around the corner of the house. The vampires were still putting up the good fight, but Moss doubted they’d make it out. Not if Roger had been in charge. Darius would lose a good few minions he’d be loath to part with.
Off the fence now, at the back corner of the property, branches reached out to cover his progress. His feet crashed through the underbrush, stealth impossible in his current state. His stomach felt like it was turning inside out, famine making his movements stiff and clumsy.
The cars waited off to the left, and if he could get inside one, he’d be fine. He’d get out of there by the time a shifter could change and break the glass. But the odds of the shifters leaving an obvious getaway unattended were small.
The scent of Felicia’s skin teased him. Her body grew heavier by the moment. Her hands more exploratory.
Laboring, he weaved in and out of the trees, putting distance between himself and the house. Soon he’d tug out his phone and see what Darius had organized in the way of pickup.
A howl drifted from behind him, near the house. Another sounded away to his left. One more, in front of him.
The wolves were on the hunt.
He changed direction and put on a burst of speed, fighting his body’s downward spiral into blood lust. His breath came in hard pants. The woman tried to hook her foot under his cock, but only succeeded in jamming up the churning of his legs.
“Hungry,” she said in a breathy whisper, her firm touch sliding down his back. “Horny.”
The sound of light feet interrupted the thrushing of the distant waves. The stench of shifter announced the wolves’ presence right before two burst through the bushes. More footfall indicated two more on the way.
They’d brought a large host to take this party down.
For the first time in decades, a thread of fear wormed through Moss’s middle.
He slowed, then stopped, turning to face the closest wolf. Running was futile. He’d have to stay and fight.
The woman mewed in protest when he set her on the ground. He couldn’t fight with her on his shoulder.
The closest wolf chuffed. The other lowered its heads and moved forward, its lips lifted in a silent snarl. Two more joined the semi-circle.
Moss felt the surge to change form, but without the resources of blood, it would drain precious energy. He cracked his neck.
“Well?” he asked, staying loose. He put up his hands in a come on gesture. “Are you waiting for an invitation?”
The first wolf took three fast steps before launching through the air. The next, then another, ran a moment later. He caught the first wolf body before ripping his claws down the wolf’s side and flinging it away. The next wolf nearly hit his middle, trying to knock him back. He grabbed it as the third made contact, forcing him to the side. If they got him off his feet, he was in trouble.
He punched claws into the wolf in his grasp before swiping down with the other hand, catching not much more than fur. Paws hit the center of his back before teeth tore into the back of his neck. He hadn’t heard the rear attack coming.
Easily ignoring the pain, he swung around, ripping out with his claws and opening his mouth wide so the fangs could fully descend. Canine teeth bit into his upper thigh. Another body slammed into his side.
He staggered again and this time, his feet caught on the rugged earth. His momentum carried him off-balance. More teeth, ripping at his chest. Another body, helping him fall.
Snarling, he lashed out in a frenzy. He’d go down, but he’d take as many with him as he could.
A mouth of white, sharp teeth opened, the animal standing above him. It moved in, aiming for his jugular.
Three