Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 116618 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116618 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
A claw rakes across Valtu’s face, drawing blood that seems to drive Marco into greater frenzy. His head darts forward, jaws snapping inches from Valtu’s throat.
I look around frantically for a weapon, any weapon. My gun is long gone, lost somewhere during my compelled journey to find Lena. The ritual dagger Abe used sits on the floor where we’d been meditating, but it’s meant for ceremony, not combat.
Abe suddenly comes running out from around the corner, an axe raised above his head as he yells a battle cry. He’s about to bring it down on the back of Marco’s head when the beast kicks back, getting Abe in the shins and knocking him off balance.
Marco has already shifted targets, his yellow gaze fixing on Lena with terrifying intensity. He throws Valtu aside with one powerful sweep of his arm, then lunges toward us with a speed that defies physics.
I try to intercept him, but he bats me aside like I’m nothing, sending me crashing into one of Abe’s bookshelves. Pain explodes along my back as books rain down around me.
By the time I regain my feet, Marco has Lena. One clawed hand wraps around her throat, lifting her off the ground as she struggles against his grip. The other vampires are all down—not dead, but injured, struggling to recover from the vicious assault.
“No!” I shout, lunging forward, grabbing the butcher knife from the floor.
But I’m too late. With a powerful beat of its wings, Marco—or the thing that was once Marco—launches himself back through the shattered window, Lena clutched against his chest.
I reach the window just in time to see them vanishing into the dim grey light.
“Lena!” My voice echoes across the cliffs, met only by the indifferent crash of waves against rocks below.
“How did he find us?” Ezra groans, pulling himself upright, blood streaming from a gash on his forehead, slowly healing.
“He must have been tracking Callahan,” Abe says grimly, helping Adonis to his feet. “Dmitri probably didn’t trust that his control would hold. Sent his new pet to follow, to ensure the job was done.”
“And when it wasn’t,” Valtu finishes, wiping blood from his hair, “he took matters into his own hands. Or claws, as it were.”
“But I don’t understand,” I ask. “What happened to him? I killed Marco. I buried him.”
“And you were being watched when you did so,” Abe says, rubbing at his shins. “It doesn’t take much to create a vampire, but it has to be deliberate. I’d wager Dmitri or one of them saw where you buried him, dug him up, pumped him full of vampire blood, and thus a monster was born. Risky business but the Ivanovs seem to thrive on risk.”
“And he’s just…what, a literal beast now?”
“Yes,” Abe says, getting a dreamy look in his eyes. Then he clears his throat, his expression flattening. “I have known one, or two, that have overcome the monster, that have remained a vampire in control. But it took centuries and a lot of work to get them back to normal. I’m afraid that won’t be in the case with Marco. The Ivanovs want him for one purpose only: to kill.”
I turn from the window, rage and despair tearing me apart. “We have to go after them. Now.”
“We will,” Abe assures me, though his expression is grim. “But we need to be smart about this. Marco is taking her to Dmitri. We don’t know where. We need to figure out that out first.”
“And we don’t have the time,” I say, the words coming out as a growl. “I’m going after her with or without you. Tell me Abe. Are you with me? Or are you against me?”
“No one said anything about being against you, Callahan,” says Abe calmly and quietly.
Adonis steps forward, his towering frame intimidating despite his injuries. “I’ll come with you. I’ve tracked harder prey than a feral vampire.”
“We all will,” Valtu says, surprising me with his vehemence. “The Ivanovs have gone too far. Created an abomination. Broken laws older than any of us.”
“Besides,” Ezra adds with a grim smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, “someone has to make sure you don’t get yourself killed. Lena would never forgive us.”
Relief washes through me, tempered by the crushing weight of responsibility. Lena is in Dmitri’s hands because of me. Because I led Marco straight to her, like a homing beacon guiding a missile to its target.
I stare out at the lightening sky, dawn approaching with merciless certainty. Somewhere out there, Lena is being carried toward a fate designed by madmen with delusions of godhood. Carried toward Dmitri, who needs her blood to open his precious gateway to the Red Realm.
I failed Elizabeth. I won’t fail Lena too.
“How do we find them?” I ask, turning back to the others.
They all look at me. “You’re supposed to tell us.”