magic spears to be effective.
He sliced at one’s head with his dagger and it yanked its head back, laughing and hissing at him.
“Fool. Do you think we are all so easy to kill? I have—” It stopped talking and shrieked, looking down. Though Fiona couldn’t see its chest, it was easy enough to see what had happened.
There was a silvery tip poking out of the left side of its back.
Sean cried out as a vamp sank its teeth into the side of his neck, and the sight broke Fiona out of her shock. She heard a scream, the sound like that of a banshee’s death herald, but she was running before she realized that
The vampire shrieked so loudly something in her ear canals popped with the pain, but she held on desperately to its shoulders as it released Sean, flailing around and clawing at the smoking ruin of its face and eye. The holy water carved crevasses in its flesh, and she threw herself away from it as it fell to the ground, screeching and hissing.
She dropped the empty vial, still holding on to the shadows that concealed her from sight, smell, and sound, and ran to the left a few paces away from the dying vampire. The rest of them had to know someone—or something—had attacked from behind, and she didn’t want to be caught in a blind sweep.
“Princess, I’m going to kill you when we get out of here,” Christophe yelled, fury riding the planes and angles of his face.
He launched himself into the air, pure blue-green fire shimmering in glowing streams around his entire body, and tackled three of the vampires who’d decided to leap over her car toward him and Sean. It was like watching a martial arts film where the action star was a master sorcerer. He twirled in midair and leveled a flying kick at the first vamp’s throat, then followed it up with a dagger in its heart as it fell backward. Before that vamp even hit the ground, Christophe grabbed the head of the second vamp and slammed its face down onto his knee so hard that the resulting crunch sounded like lightning snapping a dead tree trunk. Energy pulsed between his hands, brief but fierce, and the vamp’s head imploded, then disappeared.
Fiona didn’t have time to watch any more, though, because one of the vampires was sniffing the ground, crawling on hands and feet like a deranged hound from hell. Its body moved in ways that bodies were not meant to move, as though it were boneless or at least had a flexible spine.
“I know you’re here,
She waited, silent as the grave she had no intention of going to—at least not today—until it was in range. Then she hurled the contents of the second vial into its face and threw herself back and to the side as fast as she could, to escape the reach of its arms as it threw its body forward in a last, desperate leap even as it screamed and squealed its way to a horrific death.
Over the drops of water that had fallen to the pavement a faint golden glow hovered for an instant before winking out, and she had a heartbeat of crystallized time in which to wonder what God thought about blessed water being used to kill. But then Christophe pulled her up and into his arms, crushing her in a fierce embrace until she thought her lungs might burst.
“Don’t ever, ever, ever, do that again,” he commanded, somewhat ruining the severity of his command by compulsively kissing her again and again.
She pushed him away after a minute or so, shoving against the rock-hard wall of his chest. “Really? Don’t join in the fight when people I care about are in danger?” She glared up at him. “Have you
Then she ran to Sean, who was leaning back against the car, bent over and breathing hard, and threw her arms around him. “Are you okay? How bad is it?”
She pulled his head up so she could examine his neck. The wound was ragged but only dripping, not spurting, blood.
“Thank God, thank God, thank God,” she said, over and over. “If you died because of me—”
“I’m too tough to kill,” he said, managing a grin. “Anyway, this wasn’t because of you. Far as I can tell, it was due to those vamps. Six of which I killed, by the way.”
He straightened, puffing out his chest, and she couldn’t help it. She pulled him to her and planted a big kiss on his cheek. Even in the dim light, she could see him flush hot.
“That, youngling, is why men the world over will do anything for a beautiful woman,” Christophe said dryly. He gently nudged Fiona aside to examine Sean’s wound. “You’re going to have a scar, but it’s not bad. Unfortunately, better clean it out.”
He turned to Fiona. “Do you happen to have any more of that holy water, Invisible Girl? Sooner is better.”
“This is going to hurt really badly, isn’t it?” Sean’s throat worked but he tilted his head so they could get at his neck.
“Like all the fires of the nine hells are searing your flesh,” Christophe admitted, far too cheerfully. “Every warrior worth his daggers goes through it at least once, although our remedy isn’t quite the same as yours.”
“What do you mean?”
“Trust me, you don’t want to know.” Christophe looked around them, his eyes narrowing. “Anybody notice something odd here?”
“You mean, we’re still in London, one of the busiest cities in the world, and nobody else has come down this alley during this entire time?” Fiona nodded, pulling another vial of blessed water from her sleeve and holding it up to Christophe, who nodded. “Yes, I noticed. In fact, how are they—”
“Accomplices,” Sean said. “It’s how we used to do it. Bloke at each end when there was going to be trouble. We’d call out a warning.”
“A warning is one thing,” Christophe said. “An empty alley for the better part of half an hour is another. I’d guess sorcerers. If they’re enthralled, we’re either in big trouble, or they’re dead. Interesting that they thought we knew where the Siren is. Must mean the vampires don’t have it. Or at least this group of vamps.”
“Let’s do this,” Fiona said. She took a deep breath as if she would feel her own flesh sear. She wished it could be.
“Just do it, Princess. Quick and get it over with,” Christophe said, not unsympathetically. “The anticipation is almost worse.”
She held her breath and upended the vial over Sean’s wound, which sizzled and hissed like butter on a hot griddle. Sean sucked in a sharp breath and then said a few words she hadn’t known he even remembered from the old days.
“More,” Christophe said.
“But—”
“More.”
She opened her last vial and poured it directly on top of the bubbling mess on Sean’s neck, feeling the hot tears escaping her eyes. By the time she’d finished the vial, it poured clear and all signs of steam or infection had disappeared.
“That should do it,” Christophe said, nodding once. “When it doesn’t react any more, it’s cleaned out. Now we get out of here.”
“Home. Sean needs to rest. And you’re bleeding, too.” Relieved of the worry over Sean, she was swamped by fear for Christophe. She tore open his shirt like a wild woman to look at the wound in his chest.
He caught her hands in his own and kissed her knuckles. “I’m fine,
Sean nodded and headed for the vehicle blocking their way, while Christophe headed for the one parked in the middle of the street.
“Search for anything interesting,” Christophe called, and Fiona ran around her car to the SUV on the other side, leaping over the piles of still-dissolving slime that was all that was left of their attackers. A great many people were warning them away from the search for Vanquish. The important questions were why and who had it.
She made quick work searching the SUV, and found nothing, which was what she’d expected. The percentage of vampires who bothered to register with authorities and get any kind of official papers was still frighteningly small.
