“I wonder what you taste like,” Anthony said. “I bet your blood is as rich as the rest of you, isn’t it? I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before. The possibilities are almost endless. I could make you get on your knees to suck me off. Or if you turn around and bend over, I could – why I could fuck a princess through these bars…”
She had to clamp down on the need to spit in his face. Every muscle in her body screamed for her to move. Not yet, Melly.
Not yet.
Anthony shot one of his hands between the bars and grabbed her by the throat. Then, confident and still laughing, he tucked the gun in the waist of his jeans.
Halle-fucking-lujah.
She exploded into movement. Grabbing him by the wrist, she tore free of his grip, braced herself and heaved as hard as she could, yanking him toward her.
She caught him completely off balance. As his body slammed into the bars, she lunged toward him and staked him in the chest. Rage lent her a delicious amount of strength. This time she didn’t even wince as she felt the blunt end of her stake penetrate the tough barrier of his chest wall.
Please, don’t let me miss his heart.
For one pulsing moment, the world froze. Anthony stared at her with an expression of shock and betrayal – what the hell – before crumbling into dust. The gun, which was not organic, clattered to the floor, along with a jangling bunch of keys, and a whistle.
“Jesus,” Julian spat out again. “Are you all right?”
Was she? For one reason or another, her throat had taken a lot of abuse lately. She massaged the sore muscles with one hand.
“I’m okay,” she croaked. Betrayal, bah. Life hadn’t turned out to be quite how Anthony had imagined, had it? Angrily, she hitched a shoulder as she buttoned up her top again. “I only wish I could stake the bastard twice.”
Julian watched Melly go through the tedious process of breaking out of her cell and into his again.
She gave him a wary look. “You’ve torn your wrists completely raw,” she croaked. “You need to calm down, soldier. Everything’s all right.”
That was easier said than done. At the threat of Vampyre Guy raping Melly, he had gone berserk, and that didn’t ease away in an instant, or because of a few soft-spoken words.
He knew he must look like a monster out of one of Melly’s horror movies. His fangs had descended, and the structure of his face had changed. His eyes would be red and glowing, and all his fingernails had lengthened into talons.
His body had prepared itself for a life-and-death fight, only the fight had already been won. He was too far gone into his rage to do any more than snarl wordlessly at her.
She had collected everything Anthony had left in the hall and set it in a pile to one side before turning her attention back onto him. Then she did the most incredibly foolish thing.
She walked up to him, put a hand on his chest and whispered, “Hush.”
Didn’t she know she should never approach a Vampyre when he was in such a frenzied state?
He didn’t want to hush. He wanted to tear and rend, and drink the blood of Melly’s would-be attacker until he felt the man’s body crumble to dust in his hands. He bared his fangs and hissed at her.
She just looked at him. “Now you’re being pissy.” Her voice was gentle as she said it. She patted his chest and raised her hand to his face. Because it was her, he fought to control his impulse to strike at her. As she cupped his cheek, her palm and fingers were warm. “Julian, I really need you to calm down. I’m starving and exhausted, and there are over a hundred ferals that are going to be back at the tunnel gate at any minute, let alone Justine who might show up earlier than she had planned if she decides to go looking for her missing attendant.”
Her words began to penetrate the killing instincts that had flooded him. He ran his gaze over her. She did look exhausted. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, and her face was drawn with marks of stress.
He also noted that the other Vampyre hadn’t been gentle when he had grabbed her. The slender, elegant line of her throat was already turning dark with bruises and swelling. The cut at the side of her neck had broken open again and was bleeding lightly.
The sight brought him back into himself.
“I hear you,” he growled. Taking a strong mental grip on his self-control, he forced his fangs to withdraw. “I got it.”
She searched his gaze, then gave him a small smile and a nod.
When she pulled her hand away, he missed her touch and grew angry at himself for it. Digging into her pocket, she pulled out two misshapen metal springs and knelt at his feet.
As she got to work again on the manacles at his ankles, he said, “That’s what you were doing earlier. You were making another set of lock picks.”
“Yep.” She sounded as tired as she looked. “I told you I wasn’t going to leave you. No matter what you might think of me, or what anybody else might have said, I always keep my promises.”
He didn’t know what to do with that, so instead of responding, he fell silent and watched her.