Heat of a different kind hit his senses. Vampires. Six of them, moving in fast from in front and behind, their bodies little more than red blurs in the night. Wind whistled. Swearing softly, he ducked. A baseball bat swished over his head. He clenched his fist and swung hard. His hand sank deep into flesh, and there was a cough of pain.
Movement behind him. He kicked backward, connecting with bone, then dodged sideways as one of the vamps lashed at him with a knife. Kicked out again and heard a thump as someone fell. Another blur of red heat, this time to his left. Metal gleamed, flashing downwards. Hands grabbed his arms, fingers digging deep into his flesh. Teeth tore at him. Fledglings, he thought. Fledglings desperate for someone, anyone, to eat. Which made his situation a whole lot more dangerous. Fledglings this hungry couldn't be reasoned with and wouldn't know fear like Rachel had.
He dropped, making them support his weight, and kicked away the descending knife. The fledgling didn't seem to notice, his hand hitting Michael's chest, his eyes wide and filled with desperation and blood lust. Michael head-butted him, knocking him away, then twisted, dislodging the two vampires holding his arms.
They fell like ninepins, scattering their companions. He leapt over the nearest vampire and ran back down the cavern. Past the bloated pile of bodies and into the water. There'd been a ledge around the last bend—a semicircular jutting of rock protected on two sides. An ideal place to make a stand.
The fledglings followed, their desperation reaching across the night and stirring the darkness within him.
He knew the taste of that desperation only too well.
He climbed onto the ledge and backed against the wall. They swarmed after him and attacked. Hands grabbed him. Teeth tore at his clothes and his flesh. He punched one in the face then grabbed her hair, twisting her around and pulling her against him. Her companions tore at her instead, and the smell of blood stung the air. She mewed, fighting him, fighting them. Her distress was sharp and sweet and filled his soul with the need to taste her. His canines lengthened, and the darkness rose sharply, threatening to overwhelm his control.
He swallowed heavily, then shifted his hold and shattered the fledgling's neck. He thrust her away. Two of her companions followed, tearing at her like rabid dogs. At least she was dead. They would not be so kind to him.
Teeth tore into his arms, his legs. He punched in the face of the one on his arm, knocking him away. He then bent and picked up the two gnawing at his legs, knocking their heads together and thrusting them back into the water. Metal knifed into his side, and pain fired through his body. Heat flashed, followed sharply by a wash of cold sweat. He gritted his teeth against the agony and grabbed the hand holding the knife, squeezing hard. The fledgling screamed—a high pitched, prepubescent sound.
He pulled the knife from his flesh then stabbed at the kid approaching from the right. The point went straight through the fledgling's eye and buried deep in his brain. He fell in a heap at Michael's feet and was immediately set upon by one of the other fledglings. Michael kicked her away, then turned back to the vamp whose arm he still held. He was kicking and screaming, his need for blood so intense Michael could almost taste it. Twisting him around, he wrapped an arm around his neck and gave him final release.
Three down, three to go. Better odds by far. Two fledglings attacked as one. He ducked under their blows, punching one in the balls and knifing the other through the gut. Both dropped. He finished them quickly, then turned to the fledgling still suckling on the body of one of her companions. Swallowing the rise of bile, he walked over and broke her neck. She fell backwards, her blue eyes wide, face still so young and pretty despite the ravages of turning. He felt like crying.
He dropped down on the ledge and rubbed a hand across his eyes. God grant me the strength to kill
Warmth ran down his side, and the metallic taste of blood stung the air. He tugged his shirt free and twisted around to look at the wound. Blood flowed freely, staining his jeans. The wound looked nasty, but it wasn't that deep. The fledgling must have stabbed at him while he was climbing up on the ledge, because the knife appeared to have nicked his jeans and gone off on an angle through his side rather than straight in. Luck had been smiling on him.
He leaned forward and grabbed one of the fledglings, dragging the body toward him. Removing the youngster's shirt, he tore it into strips and wrapped them tightly around his waist.
The rest he wrapped around the worst of his bite wounds—an open slash on his left calf. The remaining wounds were little more than nicks. He hadn't given his attackers enough time to do more damage.
Thank the gods Nikki hadn't been with him. Her kinetic power had its limits and protecting her might have been the downfall of them both.
He rubbed his eyes wearily, then pushed up from the ledge. Time to get moving. He splashed through the shadows, ignoring the ache in his side and the red-hot needles that thrust through his leg muscles every time he put weight on his left leg.
Up the hill and past the bloated pile of humanity. Past the corner where the fledglings had sprung from their hideaways. The air became cleaner, fresher, and his footsteps began to echo. He glanced up. The tunnel was widening, the roof pitching upwards. He had to be approaching a cavern.
He slowed, casting his senses forward. There was no sound, no shimmer of life, and yet… something was there. He edged forward, back to the wall. The darkness of the tunnels opened into a cave of immense proportions. Stalactites hung from the ceiling, gleaming cold silver in the light of a single candle that sat on an outcropping of rock.
Beside that candle waited Elizabeth.
For several seconds, Nikki didn't move. Couldn't move. Her heart was lodged somewhere in her throat, and she couldn't even breathe. All she could do was watch in horror as the smoke creature found form.
The flame imp whisked past her, flashing heat across her face. She blinked. It had paused near the door again, pulsing a deep, distressed red, then flew out.
She swallowed, took one final look at the billowing smoke and the sharp teeth just forming, and ran after the flame imp.
The spawn screamed—a high-pitched sound not unlike a woman in distress. Fear spurted fresh energy into her legs. She flew down the tunnel, following the flame imp and hoping it was leading her to safety and not into some trap.
Suddenly it stopped then dropped to the floor. Horror rolled through her, and the sharp taste of evil filled every corner of her mind. She fell to the ground. Claws scraped her back, burning like fire, then the spawn was past her, billowing like a sail as it struggled to stop. She scrambled to her feet and hit it with everything she had.
It screamed and was flung backwards, splattering against a wall. Moisture dribbled from it, searing into the rock as if it were acid.
She shivered. The flame imp pulsed its warning. She ran after it, her footsteps as frantic as the beat of her heart. Warmth dribbled down her back. She knew she was bleeding, but she felt no pain. Terror had numbed her.
Ahead, the sound of running water was becoming stronger. Was that where the flame imp was leading her? She hoped so. Michael had said water repelled it, but what good would it really do? She couldn't stay in the water forever, and the spawn would have her the minute she stepped out of it.
The bitter taste of evil rushed through her again. Her stomach rose swiftly. Swallowing bile, she fell to the left. Her shoulder hit rock, bruising her. The spawn billowed past again, screaming in frustration. She hit it again, pushing it back against the wall. Glancing at the ceiling, she saw a fissure in the roof line and pulled.
There was a sharp crack, and a huge chunk of ceiling fell, covering the smoky form with rocks and stones. Dust flew in the air, catching in her throat, making her cough.
The spawn screamed its fury. It was contained, but not for long. Tendrils of smoke were beginning to hiss from the gaps and solidify.
