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)
“Get Lena!” Valtu shouts to me between blows. “I’ll handle this abomination!”
I turn back to Dmitri, only to find him advancing on Abe and Ezra, who have reached Lena’s suspended form. With a gesture, he sends Ezra flying back, crashing into a support column. Abe stands his ground.
“This ends now, Dmitri,” Abe declares, interposing himself between the Ivanov patriarch and Lena.
“You’re right, Abraham,” Dmitri agrees, his voice chillingly calm. “It does end. With the opening of the gateway.” He turns toward me, arms spread wide. “Victor. Come to your father. Help me complete what we began with the Black Dahlia.”
The compulsion rolls over me again, stronger this time. I feel my body responding against my will, taking a step toward him, then another. The vampire side of me recognizes his authority, yearns to submit, to please the sire whose blood flows in my veins.
“Fight it, Callahan!” Abe shouts, engaged in his own struggle with Dmitri. “You are not defined by his blood!”
Across the warehouse, a scream cuts through the chaos. I turn to see Adonis standing over Katya’s kneeling form, her sun mask knocked aside to reveal her beautiful, terrified face. With one swift motion, he seizes her head between his massive hands and twists. The crack echoes like a gunshot, followed by a wet tearing sound as her head separates completely from her body.
Adonis lifts the severed head, regarding it dispassionately for a moment before drop-kicking it across the warehouse like a macabre football. It bounces once, twice, then rolls to a stop at Dmitri’s feet.
“No!” Dmitri’s anguished cry shakes the very foundations of the building. His attention diverts momentarily from Abe, giving the vampire doctor the opening he needs. Abe lunges forward, nails and teeth bared, but Dmitri recovers in time to catch his wrist, the two ancient vampires locked in a contest of strength.
I fight through the compulsion, step by agonizing step, moving not toward Dmitri but toward Lena. Her eyes flutter open as I approach, recognition dawning through the haze of pain.
“Victor,” she whispers, the word barely audible.
“I’m here,” I assure her, reaching for the chains that bind her wrists. “I’m getting you out of here.”
A howl of rage draws my attention back to the center of the room. Marco has gained the upper hand against Valtu, pinning him beneath his grotesque form, claws raised for a killing blow. Before I can move to help, Valtu produces something from inside his jacket—a silver flask that he smashes against Marco’s face.
The liquid inside ignites on contact, engulfing Marco’s head in blue flame. The feral vampire reels back, shrieking in agony, wings beating frantically as the fire spreads across his mutated body.
“Holy fire,” Valtu explains, rolling away from the thrashing, burning creature. “Always carry some for emergencies.”
The flames spread rapidly, catching on the scattered candles and ritual implements. In moments, half the warehouse is ablaze, cutting off the main entrance. Marco, still screaming, crashes blindly through the warehouse, setting more fires with each pass of his burning wings.
“We need to leave,” Ezra shouts, rejoining the fight after recovering from Dmitri’s attack. “This whole place will go up in minutes!”
I redouble my efforts on Lena’s chains, vampire strength straining against the metal. With a final heave, the links snap, and Lena collapses into my arms, weak but alive.
“Wait,” she murmurs against my chest. “The others…still in danger…”
She’s right. Across the burning warehouse, Abe and Dmitri remain locked in combat. Behind them, I see the wolf-masked figure—Dr. Goldman—regaining consciousness, reaching for something on the floor.
A gun. He’s reaching for a gun.
Without conscious thought, I’m moving, placing Lena gently on the ground before launching myself across the warehouse. I cross the distance in heartbeats, vampire speed carrying me forward just as Goldman raises the weapon toward Abe’s unprotected back.
I crash into him with the force of a freight train, sending the gun flying from his grasp. We roll across the floor, coming to a stop with me on top, pinning him by the throat. His wolf mask has been knocked askew, revealing a middle-aged man with clinical, emotionless eyes.
“The son returns to the fold,” he says in a calm, detached voice that sends chills down my spine. “Your father will be pleased.”
“I’m not his son,” I growl, tightening my grip. “And I’m not returning to anything.”
Something shifts in Goldman’s expression—fear, perhaps. “You don’t understand what you’re interfering with,” he gasps. “The gateway must open. It’s the only way to save our kind.”
“Our kind doesn’t need saving,” I tell him. “Not by the likes of you.”
A noise behind me—the distinctive sound of wings cutting through air. I turn just in time to see Marco, still partially aflame, diving toward me with claws extended. There’s no time to dodge, no time to do anything but brace for impact.
But the impact never comes. Instead, Marco crashes to the ground feet away from me, Valtu’s silver dagger embedded in his back. The feral vampire thrashes, howling in pain, trying to reach the weapon lodged between his shoulders.