If Willow hadn’t been so vulnerable to the vampire community, she’d have never accepted his offer of protection. But when choices are limited, everyone does what they have to in order to survive. So far no hive had been willing to test Allcot’s warnings. None until now.
It was bad enough the Cryrique vamps were on the verge of war with the shifters. Now there was a rival vampire hive blatantly defying Allcot’s orders. If Allcot managed to find them, it was going to be a goddamned bloodbath. Hell, it’d be a bloodbath if I found them.
A few brave tourists made their way into the street. They were hesitant as they craned their necks, trying to see if it was safe to gawk at the staked vampire. A tall blonde met my eyes, and I honestly had no idea what she saw there, but whatever it was, it seemed to give her courage. She stepped forward, her head bowed. Then she sank to her knees beside the vampire and started to pray for his soul.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I muttered, thoroughly annoyed. “What makes you think he has a soul?”
“Everyone does,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Even if it’s hidden.”
“This one doesn’t,” I snarled and grabbed her arm, yanking her up. “Don’t you understand? He’s a vampire. And if my spell stops working and he wakes up, what do you think is going to happen when he sees your creamy neck right there just waiting for the taking?”
She stiffened, her shoulders rigid and her lips tight.
“He’s going to sink his teeth right into you. If you’re lucky, you’ll survive. If you’re not… Well, these few moments you have right now, getting your chance to see a vampire up close and personal, are likely to be your last. Vamps who wake up from a magically induced coma usually are starving.”
“Is that… um, likely?” she stammered. “Waking up before you release the spell?”
I shook my head. “No. But it can and does happen, especially if they’re powerful. And this one is, so get the hell out of here, all right?”
Her hand flew to the hollow at her throat, and she began to slowly move backward. She kept her eyes trained on the redheaded vamp, fear in her eyes.
Okay, so I was being a tiny bit melodramatic. He was highly unlikely to wake up before I removed my dagger. But the last thing I needed was a circle of tourists gaping at the vamp. They could get their fill of actual vampires at any number of clubs around the city if they were brave enough to frequent them.
After Hurricane Katrina blew through over a decade ago, parts of the city were taken over and revitalized by vampires. Mid-City was full of them as well as much of Frenchmen Street. In my opinion, the vampire infusion had been as much a blessing as a curse. They had helped restore New Orleans when the rest of the country seemed to forget about the town, but they’d also brought danger, death, and deception. For those who never mixed with vampires, it was easy to pretend nothing was amiss. But when a vampire had someone in their sights? All bets were off. The vampires of New Orleans, and more specifically Eadric Allcot and his hive, could be ruthless, and they stopped at nothing until they got what they wanted.
And that’s where I and my fellow vampire hunters came in. It was our job to make sure they didn’t get too far out of line.
“Kilsen. What do we have here?” Wallace Franks knelt down beside the vampire. “Looks like you had to pull out all the stops to bring him down.”
I snorted. “You could say that.”
The cleaner’s gaze focused on me and he did a double take. “What the hell are you wearing?”
I glanced down at the turquoise tube dress. The drizzle had not been kind. The material had turned see-through, and if it hadn’t been for my bra and panties, I’d be a prime candidate for indecent exposure. “Fuck me,” I muttered. “Don’t ask. Long story.”
Franks shrugged out of his shirt and handed it to me. “Here.”
I took the black button-down and wrapped it around myself, grateful there was at least one chivalrous man—or shifter to be exact—left in this town. “Thanks.”
“No problem. Want to give me the highlights on this one?”
“Quickly. I’ve got another case—” My voice broke on the word case. Willow and Tal weren’t just a case. They were family. “Um, an emergency actually.”
His expression turned to one that looked an awful lot like pity, and I knew he’d already heard about the fae couple. “Understood.”
“He’s wanted for feeding off humans. One went missing yesterday. I tried to neutralize him with my agate, but he’s too strong. It took my dagger to paralyze him. I’m positive if I take it out, he’ll wake right back up.”
“Got it.” He pulled a large needle out of his bag and jabbed it into the vamp’s neck.
I didn’t have to ask what he was doing. The substance he was injecting into the vampire was highly controlled by the Arcane. It could knock a vampire out for hours before he regained consciousness. It was a fantastic drug as it didn’t leave any permanent damage and vamps were alert fairly quickly after the affects wore off.
However, it was only ever used when and if a vamp had already been neutralized. If the vampire got it away from a tracker and used it on them, it was instant death. Too dangerous. So dangerous, in fact, the Arcane had banned it twice. But a few months ago, a vampire I’d stunned had awoken in the back of the van before they’d reached the Void offices and the vampire had gone mad, killing the two cleaners and driving the van off the Crescent City Connection bridge. After that incident, it had become a mandatory procedure to pump any vampire full of the toxin before transporting him or her to the holding cells.
I wrapped my hand around the handle of my dagger as Franks shoved his giant needle back into his bag of tricks. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
Tightening my hold on the handle, I yanked the blade out of the vampire. His hand shot straight up and grabbed Franks by the neck. The cleaner let out a strangled gasp and tried to jerk back, but it was no use. The vampire’s hold was too strong.
Without a second thought, I slammed the blade back into the vampire. He froze, his hand still clutching Franks’s neck. I moved around them and started to pry the vamp’s fingers off Franks. But suddenly the vamp started to vibrate, and before I could process what was happening, he yanked the blade out of his abdomen and slammed it into my thigh.
I let out a cry of pain and rolled. Fire burned up my leg and quickly headed for my chest. There were only seconds to spare. If the magic touched my heart, I’d be dead. My fingers wrapped around the cold hilt and I yanked while simultaneously zeroing in on the curse filling my veins. My magic flared to life and I mentally directed it to concentrate around the curse, to expel it through the blood already gushing from my wound.
Sweat poured down my face and my vision blurred, but I knew my magic was working. I could still feel the burn of the curse, and it was indeed flowing out of me. My wound was on fire, filling every sense that I had. I clutched my thigh and waited it out. Finally, when the burning stopped and my head swam from too much blood loss, I tore Franks’s shirt off and staunched the wound.
“Phoebe!”
Dax’s voice entered my consciousness and I raised my head, trying to blink away the blurriness clouding my vision. “Dax?”
“Jesus. What happened?” Even though his voice was rough and clouded with worry, I instantly calmed. Dax’s presence comforted me, gave me something to focus on other than the fact that there was a gaping wound in my thigh and I’d probably lost enough blood that I’d need a transfusion.
“Powerful vampire. Too fucking powerful.” I turned my head, scanning the area, already knowing the bastard was gone. He’d gotten away, and there was nothing I could’ve done about it.
“Shit!” Dax shifted away from me and he said, “Franks! Franks! Son of a bitch!”
I followed the sound of his voice and the blurry outline of Wallace Franks came into view. He wasn’t moving. Resignation settled over me and I whispered, “He’s gone, isn’t he?”