Aodhan moved to protect her, and that was his mistake. He took a bolt through his wing, the force of it pinning him to the wall even as she went facedown on the paving stones, feeling a bolt pass overhead. Raising her head, she saw Aodhan reach over to pull the projectile out of his wing. Another bolt pinned his opposite shoulder to the wall before he could succeed.
Rolling sideways—something it had been damn difficult to re-teach herself now that she had wings—she got herself into the shadow of one of the trees not far from Aodhan. Her first instinct was to go for the gun, but the bullets were meant to shred angelic wings. She didn"t know what effect they"d have on vamps, but if they worked like normal bullets, there was a slight chance she"d hit a vulnerable spot, killing their attackers—and they needed them alive to get to the bottom of this.
Having made up her mind, she dropped the knives in her arm sheaths down into her palms, ignored the bolts thudding into the trunk at her back . . . and focused.
Everything went still, until it was as if the world was moving in slow motion, the sun"s haze a blinding mist. Once again, she heard the crossbow being pulled back, the bolt being notched into place. But hearing had never been her primary sense.
Elderberries with sugar.
Taking aim, she threw.
The stained glass shattered, littering the ground in a thousand fractures of color. Her second knife was already traveling—to hit the vampire behind the glass in the neck. She saw the blood geyser up, but her attention was on tracking the second shooter. He remained in position, hidden behind a small, solid wall. Safe. But also unable to shoot without exposing himself.
Scrambling up from her hiding position, she ran to Aodhan, ripping out the bolt in his wing while he took care of the one in his shoulder. “Behind the wa—” Her head jerked up as the scent of elderberries began to move. An instant later, it was joined by a rich burst of bitter coffee.
Swearing, she dropped the blood-slick bolt and ran for the stairs cut into one side of the square, cursing the fact that she couldn"t manage a vertical takeoff. Aodhan rose into the air behind her, the draft of his ascent hitting her in the back as she reached the upper-level pavilion the vampires had used as their hide. The scent of coffee was thick, the elderberries stained with blood.
They"d gone down the steps on the other side.
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Walking backward, she took a running start, and was airborne. Exhilaration burst into life inside her, a rush that accompanied each and every fight. Fighting the urge to simply follow the air currents, she looked down. From above, the Forbidden City was even bigger than it appeared from the ground, a sprawling warren of upper and lower courtyards connected by delicate bridges, and lanes that split off in several different directions—leading to elegantly shaped buildings and the privacy of closed doors.
Aodhan, bleeding from the shoulder, one of his wings damaged but still functional, met her above the main courtyard. “They lost themselves in the courtiers below.”
“Guess it"s time to go hunting. Cover me.” Narrowing her senses, she decided to focus on the one who"d been injured. He"d be slower, easier to run to ground.
Scents swirled like a thousand strands of color.
Violets. Lush. Sweet. Intoxicating.
Wood. Freshly cut.
Rain on a sunny day. Bright. New.
Tangled sheets and champagne. Heavy. Feminine.
Elderberries dripping darkest red.
The thrill of the hunt in her blood, she swooped to the area where she"d tracked the elderberries.
It was almost too easy. Dressed in a coat of peacock blue, the vampire stood with a group of others of his kind, a silk scarf knotted around his neck. The scarf was wet, drenched with the pulse of his life"s fluid.
She was about to point him out to Aodhan when the vampire jerked and fell to the ground, his body twisting as if in the throes of a grand mal seizure. Cries of dismay, the other courtiers scattering like the butterflies they were. Landing on the ground beside the vampire"s jerking body, she rolled him to the side, conscious of the blood foaming around his mouth. “Keep his jaw open!” she said to Aodhan as he landed. “If he chokes on his own tongue—”
The body went silent under her hands.
Vampires could survive a lot, but she knew this one was dead, a tool that had become a liability.
“What a fucking waste.” He was so young. Likely not even a decade into his vampirism. Going by his face, he"d been Made in his late twenties. “Some kind of immortality.”
Aodhan"s eyes were glacial when he looked up. “Track the other. I"ll be right behind you.”
“We need the body.”
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A curt nod.