Out of bullets, I pitched the gun at the closest naturi, shattering his nose and left cheekbone. He screamed and stumbled backward, holding his face. I closed the distance, rage bubbling in my veins. His companion stepped forward to protect him, and I left his head rocking on the floor seconds later.
The wounded elflike creature lashed out, swinging his sword wildly, half blinded by the pain. In a flash of movement I was standing behind the creature. I grabbed a fistful of brown hair and jerked his head back before running my blade across his throat. I was careful to slice the main arteries and open his windpipe. It’s a subtle art; something learned through years of torture and death. If I had left him like that, he might have drowned in his own blood. Unfortunately, I wasn’t sure how quickly he would heal so I lopped off both his hands. I didn’t want him coming back to stab me later. This way he would at least bleed to death. He would suffer awhile longer than if I’d just decapitated him like his companion. I wanted his death to be a slow one.
Danaus grabbed my right arm as I started to leave the room, halting my progress. “He’s not dead,” the hunter growled. His hand bit into my flesh while his powers beat angrily against me.
“He will be.” Danaus didn’t release me, his gaze burning into my cold eyes. I knew what he wanted. He didn’t believe in torture. “Remember, they did far worse to me. At least he knows he’s going to die. I had no such guarantee.” I wrenched my arm free of his grasp and continued to the hall.
I was relieved to see he followed directly behind me instead of ending the naturi’s suffering. Maybe he knew this wasn’t the best time to cross me. I paused in the hall, careful not to look down at Michael’s cold body. Instead I gazed up the hall to find three more naturi heading toward the room holding Jabari and the others, looking to attack the small group from behind. I pulled the second and last gun from my pants and plowed through the three that were now coming after me.
“Are there any more coming?” I stepped on the body of the nearest naturi, indifferent as to whether he was dead yet, as I walked toward the closed door.
“Yes, but we have a couple of minutes,” Danaus said, following close behind me. “The last of them are in with the others.”
I shoved open the door and for a second my confidence slipped several notches. The room looked like a cyclone had blown through. All the furniture had been destroyed. Exquisite landscapes were ripped off the walls, their heavy frames used as weapons. The walls were pockmarked with bullets and gaping holes created by flying bodies. Corpses littered the floor, broken and torn.
Sadira stood in one corner with a wounded Tristan behind her. One of the legs of the chair she’d been sitting in was tightly clenched in her fist and her fangs were bared. Other than the fangs, she still didn’t look like a vampire, just a mother protecting her child. Of course, we’re talking a half-crazed, bloodthirsty mother with her blood-splashed yellow shirt sticking to her thin frame and dark hair flowing down her back.
My Gabriel still stood strong beside her, a knife in one hand and a naturi short sword in the other. I didn’t want to contemplate how long he had been without ammo. His right shoulder and left thigh were bleeding, but he didn’t waver, so I hoped the wounds were superficial. I couldn’t lose him too.
And in the eye of the storm stood Jabari. His energy pulsed in violent waves through the room. At least a dozen bodies circled him, torn apart in various ways. The nightwalker stood empty-handed, covered in the blood of his enemies. Jabari didn’t use a sword or knife. He preferred to take apart his enemies with his bare hands. It was a lost art.
Watching him face down the five naturi that currently circled him, I remembered why I had always loved him. I loved his strength and his power. I loved that I only felt anger radiating from him, no fear, no doubt, no indecision. With little effort and no hesitation, Jabari pulled the heart from a naturi’s chest. He tossed the two objects carelessly aside and moved onto his next prey.
And deep down I knew I was standing in that line, no matter what happened from here on out.
“Shall we?” I said, looking over at Danaus as I tried gauge the best place to enter the fray. Relieving Sadira and Gabriel would probably be the wisest place to start. Jabari was doing fine on his own.
“After you,” Danaus said, motioning for me to precede him. I was beginning to think he was enjoying himself. He was splattered with blood and a line of sweat ran from his temple to his hard jaw. His narrowed eyes were keenly focused on the naturi in the room, weighing their skills. But there was also a glitter of amusement there, soaking in the thrill of the battle and the rush of adrenaline. At that moment, Danaus was more of a predator than the naturi could ever be. He was a dark stalker riding the wave of blood and death, his human side obliterated.
With a slight shake of my head, I jumped in, lunging at the naturi that was backing Gabriel toward the wall. After a couple of exchanges he was dead, his head rolling across the room. In the spare moment between adversaries, I tossed Gabriel the gun I’d been carrying. I wasn’t sure how many bullets it still had, but it was better than nothing.
“Keep back and make sure nothing comes through the door,” I said over my shoulder as one of the two naturi attacking Danaus rushed me. We crossed swords, circling each other the best we could considering the floor was thick with miscellaneous body parts and slick with blood. Poorly balanced with my left foot on someone’s chest while my right foot rested on another’s hand, I blocked an overhead blow aimed to split my skull. I finished by swinging my blade down, cleaving my foe in two.
Half stumbling off the dead body, I looked up in time to see Danaus skillfully finish off his opponent with a neat spinning slash that not only lifted and threw the naturi across the room, but cut him clear to the spine. While I was skillful with a sword, watching Danaus was like taking in the Russian ballet. I could feel more than see the ripple of muscle and sinew dancing beneath his tanned skin. Every movement was precisely timed and balanced for the maximum effect. The light throb of his powers tumbled from him to wash through me.
I glanced around the room. Jabari was down to his last two naturi. Sadira knelt beside Tristan, her bloody hands cupping his pale cheeks. Gabriel leaned against the wall near them, struggling to catch his breath.
“How bad is it?” I inquired, looking down at the young nightwalker. We were all covered in blood, making it hard to tell who was actually bleeding.
“The cut isn’t deep, but the sword was charmed,” Sadira said, flicking worried eyes over to me. There was a smear of blood across her forehead, and her blood-soaked clothes clung to her slender frame, making her look even frailer.
“It slows the healing. It’s more pain than actual poison. He’ll survive,” I said, turning my attention to my guardian angel. He stood staring down at the gun in his hand, a frown on his full lips.
“He died saving my life,” I volunteered, struggling to keep my voice steady as an image of Michael lying in my arms flashed across my mind. I should have been paying more attention. I might not have been able to sense the naturi, but I should have heard the door opening or the footsteps.
Gabriel nodded. “Then he died happy.” His fingers tightened around the handgun, his expression hardening. He’d said the words as much for me as for himself. My brown-haired angel had outlived three bodyguards now. The other two had been brash and careless, picking a fight when they should have known better. Michael, in contrast, had been smart. He knew when to keep his head down and how to follow orders. In the end, I was just bad for him.