“What’s happening?” I asked.
The muscles on his neck stood out in sharp relief as he fought to contain his reaction. “I’m...turn...” An animalistic gnashing overcame him. Andrei fell to his knees. His fingers continued to lacerate the skin around his throat. The red glow of his eyes painted the carpet in a warning.
He made a sound with his mouth that I couldn’t quite decipher. He repeated it and I strained to understand. “Run!”
Without thinking, I picked up the dragon scale and smashed him across the head with it. He reeled, stunned for a second by the physical pain. And then the red haze took over. Dots of pure crimson bled into his eyes. I pulled the scale back. This time, I put all my strength behind it. Swinging out, the scale was just about to make contact with his head when his arm shot up and grabbed it.
“Psych!” I said, before I rammed the hawthorn stake into his neck. Thick blood spattered my hand even though I’d tried not to go for an artery. Andrei keened. His eyes rolled back as he clutched at the stake. A coil of smoke wafted from where the enchanted wood bit into his skin. Not giving myself time to consider what I’d done, I slugged him again with the scale for good measure. Then again, just in case. He rocked back against the door and slumped over.
Outside, a feminine voice screamed. A crash ripped through the house.
I pulled the stake from Andrei’s neck before it could do more damage. Ransacking the closet, I found only a new set of Nightblood sweats and some clothes in my size. There was nothing that I could use to keep him restrained. Without much choice, I dragged his surprisingly light body over to his bed and stuffed him under it. That’s where I found his broadsword. It was too big to make a good weapon for me. But I placed his hand on it just in case he woke and needed to protect himself.
I was in the midst of searching for the paring knife when the door was flung open. Light blared into the room. The putrid stench of death followed it. A thin body with bony fingers stampeded towards me. My hand touched the knife’s handle. I dropped low and slashed out as the thing sailed overhead. Flicking my wrist, I dragged the tip of the knife straight across the thing’s torso. Slick liquid covered my hand. I almost swallowed my tongue in an attempt not to throw up.
The undead regrouped. It treated me to a show of its guts dangling out of a rotund stomach. The next time it came for me, I sidestepped and booted it in the ribs. As it staggered, I grabbed Andrei’s sword and swung it with both my hands. It was too heavy. But right now, that benefited me. The weight of the blade made the sword sink into the undead’s neck. One hard push and it sliced through like cold butter. Freed of its head, the undead collapsed.
I tossed the sword back at Andrei, gripped the knife tight, and dropped into the Ley dimension. The thread that tied the undead to its necromancer master was fading quickly now that it was unmade. But there was a faint enough trace of it that I could follow it out onto the inside landing. The necromancer boy gurgled in a pool of his own blood. Half of his throat and the side of his face had been torn out. An oversized lion stood over the necromancer. Blood coated his mane and jaw. The Ley sight lifted.
Chanelle had a crossbow aimed at Max’s heart. He pawed at the ground in front of him. He had the same crazed look in his eyes as the one I’d seen on Andrei.
I cried out as Max lunged. Chanelle instantly tried to shoot him. He evaded with an easy, feline grace. The arrow sailed through the air, hit the window, and shattered it. Glass belched all over the ground.
Bradley came running through the hole in the glass. The sword he carried wasn’t his angel blade, but it was wicked-looking all the same. He wielded it like an extension of his arm. Max locked his sights on Chanelle and then Bradley. His head dropped low. He sniffed, trying to parse out scents rather than rely on his eyes. I recognised the confusion. Phoenix did the same thing when he first arrived at Bloodline. It was all so unreal that he wasn’t able to trust his own eyes.
Max’s confusion twisted my heart. It was so unlike him to be unsure. Bradley was the complete opposite. His intent was deadly clear as he spun the sword and took a step forward. I locked eyes on the prone body of the necromancer. I imagined Max cold and lifeless. When Bradley’s muscles bunched and he arched forward, I screamed. Chanelle’s head snapped in my direction. Her eyes beaded with hatred.
Max danced sideways. He might be dazed but that didn’t mean he wasn’t an alpha lion shifter. When Bradley got close enough, Max backhanded him with his front paw. The Nephilim went flying out the door again. Fire lit up the horizon. It gave me a snapshot of Kai stalking across the lawn towards a levitating figure encased in flames. Two mounds lay in Kai’s wake. One of them was decorated in iron chains. Drake and Barbara from what I could see.
Max’s low growl dragged my attention back into the house. A metal arrow spun in the air towards me. Muscle memory took over. I pivoted to the right. The tip of the arrow just nicked my left cheek before embedding in the wall behind me. A burst of fiery heat flared under my eye. I could feel the blood trickling down my chin.
Chanelle notched the crossbow again.
Anyone could see that I wasn’t under
