Apparently, one of his buddies noticed the scuffle, because the next thing I knew, I was unceremoniously ripped off my opponent’s belly, and I found myself flat on my back to the side of him. As he rolled out of the way, I saw the daemon standing over me bring his whip up, and the next thing I knew, the whistling tip had sliced through my clothing, leaving a long gash on my left side.
The pain made me gasp, but I managed to roll to the side, avoiding his next flick of the whip. Then, I readied myself, and on the third crack, before he could yank it back, my lightning-quick reflexes allowed me to grab the end.
He didn’t count on me being a vampire—with the accompanying strength—because when I gave a hearty yank, he stumbled forward, close enough for me to catch the back of his leg with my toe. I pulled, jerking my foot, and he went down in a tumble, falling on his buddy.
With the both of them in a tangle, I shouted for help just as some sort of an explosion went off. It sounded magical by nature, so I could only assume Camille and Morio had let off some spell.
The next moment, Smoky appeared in a shimmer—thank the gods for the Ionyc Seas—and he ripped into my opponents, talons lengthening as he intervened between the daemons and me.
Never anger a dragon. Even in human form, Smoky was a nightmare on the battlefield, and he managed to slice through one’s armor, neat as a pin. The other daemon—the one who I’d first attacked—scrambled back, like a crab scuttling along the sand. He was weaving erratically as he tried to get out of the way, and I realized I’d managed to give him a pretty nasty head injury.
Before the prone daemon could lift a finger to protect himself, Smoky let loose with another slash, neatly eviscerating him. As a pile of steaming intestines and other internal organs came pouring through the wide, deep gash, the daemon let out a howl, then fell silent, his head dropping to the side. With one last strike, Smoky slit his throat to ensure he was dead, then turned to the other daemon, who had managed to stagger to his feet, but was still weaving back and forth.
“I’ve got this.” Smoky pushed past me, and within seconds, the other daemon hit the ground, his throat bloody. The sight and scent of the blood stimulated my predatory nature, and I knew that I had to feed, and fast, because both the scent and the rush of the fight were pushing me over the edge.
“Give me space.” I stared at Smoky.
His gaze flickered to my face, then he simply nodded and turned back to the others. I fell on the dead daemon, the thirst gnawing in me as I sucked up the blood, licking the wound joyfully.
There was power in the blood, and life force, and it sang in my mouth. I had tasted demon’s blood before and it had frightened me with the strength and nasty aftertaste it left behind. But this… this was different. The daemon’s blood—at least this one’s—was sweet, and full in my mouth. Ripe and fruity and sparkling, like champagne. I reeled. What the hell? I’d had reactions to blood before but this was…
The room began to spin and I let out a low laugh. I wanted more. Wanted a mouthful, a bellyful, wanted to drain the whole damned river of it that was flowing out of the creature. I fell on him, savaging the corpse, practically rolling in the stuff. Elated, feeling dizzy, I sucked up as much of the blood as I could before I realized Smoky was pulling me off the body.
“Let go! Let me go!” I struggled with him, furious, wanting only to return to my bloody feast.
“Camille—we need you!” Smoky bellowed out as he held me fast.
In my haze, I noticed the other two daemons were down and Camille was running past their bodies. She took one look at the situation and let out a loud command.
“Listen to me!” Her voice rang through the room, and though she didn’t have complete control of the command voice, it was strong enough to make me take notice. And in that brief moment, I could tell that I’d been drugged. I struggled for focus, struggled to regain control of myself.
“Can you hear me?” She came closer. Smoky had hold of me, and strong as I was, he was stronger.
“Yes—need to focus. Need… control…” My sight kept phasing in and out, a bloody blur of lust one moment, and brief glimpses of clarity the next.
“Dilute it!” Roz raced over. “If she gets clear blood, it should dilute the daemon’s blood. At least it makes sense to me.”
“But who…” Camille glanced around. “I’d be too weakened if she fed from me.”
“Never—” I’d made a vow never, ever—even in the direst circumstances—to drink from my sisters. And I’d never break that vow, even at the expense of my own life.
Roz quickly stripped off his duster. “I can handle it. She can drink enough from me to hopefully get this under control.” And he moved in as Smoky continued to hold me, baring his neck.
I stared at the creamy skin. I’d fucked Roz once before but I didn’t drink from friends. “No…” But then the haze came over me, and all I could see was the pulsing of his jugular vein, and all I could hear was the throbbing of his heart.
Grabbing him to me, I sank my fangs in his throat, making it as sensuous and pleasant as possible. He moaned, leaning into me, as I drank, his sweet blood filling my mouth. But because he was a minor demon, like me, it wasn’t as sweet as human’s blood—or as the daemon’s blood had been. I suckled, the rush of warm, sticky fluid filling my mouth, and swallowed deep gulps. A moment later, I realized what I was doing as the raging thirst began to taper off.
Abruptly I let go, pulling my fangs out, and with a horrified understanding of what had just happened, I went limp in Smoky’s hands. But I didn’t have time to angst over it, because a door I hadn’t previously seen opened, and two more of the daemon guards burst through, with another hellhound behind them.
Smoky let go of me. “Just don’t drink their blood!” he shouted as he raced forward before they could get their whips out. Delilah was on his heels, along with Tanne, who was flashing a silver blade. Roz must have given him the short sword.
The trio intercepted the guards, but the hellhound came around from behind, making a beeline for Camille. She screamed and let loose with a bolt of her Moon Magic, and this time it hit square center, singeing the hound’s center head. It howled and leaped for her.
Morio backed up a step and transformed into his demonic self. He bared his teeth, sharp and gleaming in that vulpine muzzle of his. He was suddenly towering over the hellhound, eight feet tall. He swiped down, his long black talons gashing into the head of the creature.
I decided it was safer for me to help Morio, and so I attacked the hellhound from behind. I grabbed it by its haunches as Morio ripped at the heads, and then I got the idea to get hold of one of its legs and pull. Hard. The sound of snapping bones ricocheted through the air and the hellhound let out a howl from its right head, even as Morio gashed through the throat of the left one. He shouted—a little of the acidic blood had spilled on him.
At that moment, Roz appeared and he tossed a little white ball in front of the hellhound. “Scatter!”
As Morio and I obeyed, an explosion encased the creature in ice. It froze, hardening, and then while it was paralyzed, Roz stabbed it through the heart with a heavy spike, which looked to be steel. The blood that started to ooze froze as it touched the surface. Roz pulled the spike out and cautiously wiped it on the hellhound’s fur.
I turned my attention to the other two guards but Smoky and Tanne had managed to take them down somehow. As we stared at the carnage around us, I realized that the insane thirst had died down and I was feeling back to normal.