Page 18 of Tainted Souls
Halfway through my suspension, a strong arm hooks around my chest from behind, yanking me away from the grueling path with magnificent force. Our bodies twist mid-air as we tumble to the ground. The bullet whizzes past where I stood a millisecond before, embedding itself into the building behind us with a dull wham.
My head whips back, trying to catch a glimpse of the face belonging to the person that saved me, but he’s masked just like my brother. His hood is slipped over his head before I get the chance to take in any other features. From the fact he wasn’t already wearing it, I assume the rescue wasn’t a part of the plan.
That, and from the way he scoffs at me in annoyance.
A number of vampires come for us. No, forme.
With my dagger too far removed from where I’m lying, and no time to look for another weapon, I spring to my feet and ball my hands into fists.
Propelling my arm forward, I expect to connect with a vampire’s face but find myself punching air instead, plummeting onto my knees. My gaze meets the ground again, panting and disoriented. I’m certain that my aim struck its intended target.
When I refocus and glance back up, I suddenly understand why my attack met no resistance. The masked man moves like a wildfire racing over dry grass, his body flowing between the vampires with devastating speed. He slams his fist into one vampire’s sternum with enough force to splinter bone, then pivots seamlessly to catch another’s throat in a vise-like grip. The vampire’s eyes bulge as the man drives him down to the pavement, concrete cracking beneath the impact. His movements carry a controlled finesse that only years of experience could cultivate.
Not like Redmoore’s methodical techniques, but something more intuitive, more raw.
I can’t help but observe in awe. Each strike targets a vulnerability—the soft underside of the jaw, the vulnerable hollow of the throat, the delicate nerve cluster at the base of the spine.
As chaos explodes around us, Saul’s already squared off against two of the keepers, moving with the kind of lethal vigor that parallels the female Whiteshade from earlier. When had he become so skilled?
I stand, steeling myself to fight, when the world around me plunges into a deafening silence. Glancing around frantically, my vision is filled with the dead and injured bodies of vampires and keepers alike. Most of them seem to have fled the scene.
A new group of vampires just as alarming as the former, maybe even worse, are the only ones left standing. They all wear the same mask as my brother and the man standing next to me—the entire lower half of their faces covered, leaving nothing but hellish red eyes exposed.
I’d only blinked, and the fight is already over.
For the first time in my life, I feel a little relieved that my brother is a part of them. The Ravens. At the very least, it means I’m not going to be one of their victims.
“I had it,” I say, stubborn and eager to stand my ground.
“Like you had that bullet?” the masked man replies, voice dripping with sarcasm.
“They didn’t aim to kill.” Conceit coats my words because he ought to know I’m not as reckless as he implies I am. “They aren’t allowed to, unless it’s the only way possible to stop a crime. I don’t care for politics, but I know enough to work my way around legalities.”
Perks of having a lawyer boyfriend.
I also know that the reason for that isn’t as righteous as it sounds. It’s not out of empathy—using criminals for experiments rather than innocent people is simply morejustified. The problem is, Saul and I are an anomaly. The first of our kind, at least as far as records show. Our half-human side makes us more vulnerable than any vampire, since we heal at a slower rate, and possibly die at a faster rate.
No one knows what our limits are, not even ourselves. One wrong move, one risk too great, and it could mean the end for us.
It could have meant the end for Saul.
“And,” I press, “unlike my brother, I’m protected by the law from capture.”
“Good for you,” he says, tone absent of emotion. “Does the law also state you’re exempt from treason?”
I open my mouth to speak, then close it again. I respect the law, but not enough to risk my brother’s life. “I suppose not.”
Disconcerted, I walk over to my dagger and grab it when a flicker catches my peripheral vision.
Saul appears in front of me, his face contorted with fury. He firmly grips my shoulders, fingers digging in with supernatural strength that would have shattered human bones. “Are you out of your mind?!” he exclaims, shaking me as rage twists his expression. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed, for Blod’s sake! Why are you so fucking reckless and—”
I don’t miss a beat before snapping back. “I’mreckless?! Me?! That’s rich coming from you, Saul.”
He jerks his head up, affronted. “What are you trying to say?”
“You always need others to clean up your mess.” I twist and break from his hold, my words threaded with bitterness. “Is that why you kill innocent people? Can’t pick on someone your own size?”
A darkness clouds his features, and for a brief moment, they mirror my own. He can’t hide the hurt in his eyes, no more than I can hide the pride in mine. “I see you haven’t changed one bit.”
