Sensual Danger (Venice Vampyr #4)

With one hand holding onto Oriana, trying to steady her swaying body, which hung suspended over the canal, he reached for his own knife under the cloak, realizing too late that he hadn’t armed himself before leaving the house.

The Guardian barreled toward him. Nico kicked his leg out, grazing his attacker’s thigh as the man sidestepped him. Knowing he was at a disadvantage, both because he was still holding onto Oriana, and because the late afternoon sun was quickly robbing him of his energy as it damaged his skin, burning through the upper layers, he made a split-second decision.

He turned away from the Guardian and reached for Oriana with his second hand, gripping her other arm. He heaved her up, depositing her onto the steps, just as a knife sliced into his back.

Pain seared through him. He knew the knife wound wouldn’t kill him, but in his current state, it debilitated him further. Swinging around, he faced the Guardian. This time, his attacker sliced through Nico’s cloak. It got tangled up with the knife, and as the Guardian attempted to pull his knife from it, he inadvertently ripped the protective cloak even further, pulling it halfway off Nico’s body.

Instantly, Nico felt the sun’s rays on his body, his white shirt and thin waistcoat providing no adequate barrier.

Stunned, the Guardian stared at him, seemingly only now realizing that he was fighting a vampire. With an evil grin, he pulled on the remainder of the cloak, pulling it clear off Nico. Now he was fully exposed. His face and neck instantly started to blister. From his damaged hands smoke already started to rise.

Despite the pain, Nico lunged at his attacker, knowing that if he couldn’t defeat him, the Guardian would kill Oriana. He landed a punch in the man’s face, wiping the grin off it. But Nico immediately realized that his strength was already waning. Under normal circumstances, his fist would have knocked his attacker unconscious. Now it only numbed him for a short moment. Already, his attacker was fighting back.

Nico eyed the archway. He had to push the Guardian back toward it so he could fight him under its shelter and avoid any more damage by the sun. Ramming his entire body against the man, he managed to get a few feet closer to the shaded area, but then a kick to his stomach pushed him back toward the bridge again.

The scent of charred flesh rose to his nostrils. Nico caught sight of his right hand, the one that had been exposed to the sun the longest and saw that the back of it had turned black like charcoal. Shit! He didn’t have much time left or the damage would be irreversible.

The Guardian’s hand holding the knife flew toward him. Nico twisted, avoiding it by a hair’s breadth, then landed a punch in his attacker’s neck, throwing him off balance. The Guardian tumbled for a brief moment, but caught himself and aimed his knife again.

Nico saw it coming toward him and tried to avoid it, but his movements were slowing, and his breath deserted his lungs. He was done for. The sun was killing him. He’d failed. The knife came closer. The Guardian didn’t need a stake to kill him now; he knew that: by debilitating him sufficiently so Nico wouldn’t have the strength to crawl inside, the sun would finish the job for him.

Nico’s eyes darted to where he’d left Oriana, hoping for one last glance at her, but she was gone. Disappointment and relief collided in him. At least she had escaped. Nico’s vision blurred.

Suddenly the Guardian froze. There was a movement behind him. His hand holding the knife dropped, then blood seeped from his neck.

Nico focused his eyes just as the Guardian fell. Behind him, Oriana stood, still holding her machine with both hands, blood dripping from the metal rod that protruded from its front.

Stunned, he stared at her.

Concerned eyes looked back at him. “We have to get you out of the sun.”

She rushed to him, put an arm around his waist and dragged him toward the archway. His feet barely cooperated, his knees already buckling, but Oriana didn’t give up. A moment later, he found himself sitting in the darkest corner of the archway, away from the sun.

His body still smoldered, the damage to his skin and flesh severe. He needed blood, and he needed it soon. But he needed to know something else first, otherwise his heart would never rest.

“Why did you save me after you betrayed me?”

A tender hand stroked over his chest. “I didn’t betray you.”

He closed his eyes, unable to look at her. “You demonstrated the machine to a Guardian.”

“I did. To prove that it doesn’t work.”

“But it works. The night you were attacked, it worked. You didn’t see it, because you fell, but when I touched it, it turned blue.”

“As it did when the Guardian touched it a moment ago,” she confirmed. “I secretly connected the machine to a different chemical to make sure he would think it doesn’t work.”

He stared at her, not understanding. “Why?”

“Because they’ll never give up if they think there’s a machine out there that’s working.”