She leaned forward and made a soft sound. Almost as if she couldn’t help it, she brushed a kiss along my neck.
Oh hell no, this murderous ho-bag did not just steal a kiss.
I felt power swell within me the moment before I brought my foot up. I slammed my heel into her chest and kicked her. The force of my blow lifted the woman off her feet and threw her back into the wall behind her. Plaster buckled under the impact of her body as she crashed into it.
Her head lulled and she moaned. “Wasn’t … expecting that.”
Ignoring her words, I stalked forward, both the siren and the vampire in me out for blood. I was done playing nice. She wasn’t leaving here tonight unless it was in cuffs or a body bag.
Yeah, don’t come between me and my winter break.
I stopped in front of her body and, grabbing her by the hair, I lifted her up. My fangs came out and my eyes dropped to her neck. I’d never bitten anyone before—hell, blood grossed me out. But right now … right now I could smell the scent of ash and roses just beneath the surface of her skin, and my mouth watered.
“Do it,” she said, watching me.
My eyes lifted to her face. She looked eager, and that gave me pause. I breathed in and then out, reining in the siren and the vampire long enough to think logically.
I wanted to munch on her. How disturbing.
I worked my jaw. “No,” I finally said, conquering the urges that warred inside me. “Now tell me: who else is working with you?” I asked, shaking her head.
“Me.” A woman spoke at my back. I began to turn when I felt a hand grasp my shoulder and something sharp press into my back. “Don’t move unless you want to be gutted.” The feminine voice spoke perfect English.
Another woman. Two female murder suspects, and both probably foreigners. So what was their M.O. for coming to Romania to kill?
“What do you want with me?” I asked. I flared my nostrils, trying to breathe in her scent, but I couldn’t smell anything other than expensive perfume.
“Let my friend go, and maybe I’ll tell you.”
If I let the woman in front of me go, then it’d be two against one, and I had a knife digging into my back. But I was fast. I could probably outmaneuver them both if I acted now.
I jerked away from the woman behind me. But not fast enough.
I choked on air as the blade parted skin. It made a wet, fleshy sound as it was shoved through me.
A strangled cry left my lips when I looked down. The tip of the knife poked out to the right of my belly button. I literally got friggin’ stabbed in the back.
“What. The hell.” That’s the moment that I lost it.
I screamed—more out of anger than pain—spun to face my attacker. She was a slight thing with a sweet face. Not at all what I was expecting from the person who shoved a dagger through my gut. But it didn’t stop me from jumping her ass.
All that training with Andre surfaced. I threw a right hook, then an uppercut. My movements tugged at my wound, but anger and adrenaline dulled the pain. It would hurt like hell once this was over, but right now I only spared it a passing thought.
She blocked my punches, moving faster than a normal supernatural should.
My skin flared brighter. “Stop fighting me,” I said, throwing the siren behind my words.
The pipsqueak laughed at me. Laughed. “That doesn’t work on me, Proserpine.”
Couldn’t I come across one bad guy who wasn’t immune to my glamour?
I kicked out at her, but she jumped away. I frowned. She was moving faster than even Andre. What supernatural could do that?
“Remove the glamour,” my attacker said to the first woman, who was now pushing herself up on shaky legs. I was so tempted to knock her back down, but I resisted the urge. After all, she was going to lift the glamour.
I watched her eyes flutter shut and a small smile tilt the corners of her lips.
The air shifted, and then my attacker stood in front of me. “I’ll be seeing you again soon, consort,” she said.
Before I could cock back my arm, she’d placed a steadying hand on my back and ripped the dagger from my body.
I screamed and fell to my knees. She’d sliced the wound open further. I clutched my midsection, rivulets of blood slipping through my fingers.
That hurt like a mother.
Chapter 9
Like a switch being flipped the pain, anger, and adrenaline morphed into power and lust. My skin shined brighter than ever. Only now did I grasp the extent of the siren’s depravity. She loved this. My hands shook at the realization. I really was cursed.
My stomach felt itchy where the wound was stitching itself back together. Blood dripped from my fingers as I pushed myself to my feet. I swayed, feeling lightheaded from the blood loss. My skin, however, throbbed in pleasure and pain.
When I glanced up, both women were gone. Escaped.
Perfect.
Around me, people were leaving the dance floor, looking confused. An increasing number stared at me, mesmerized by my glowing skin.
Among the throng of people, I felt one drawing closer. The crowd parted, and Andre stood there, his eyes glittering. Even from here I could tell he was barely containing his rage. One didn’t just glamour the king of vampires. Especially not in his own club.
Our gazes caught. When his eyes drifted lower, to my bloody abdomen, his expression changed. “Gabrielle.” The alarm in his voice did nothing but excite me further.
An instant later he was next to me, his hands roving over my body, inspecting me for injuries. I arched into his touch.
“Who did this to you?” he asked, his anger resurfacing in his voice.
Instead of answering, I ran my hands through his hair, pressing myself into him.