Page 50 of The Lunatics

The amusement I felt through the bond didn’t register onhis face. Not out here where there were other people to see it. He squeezed my hand instead. “Of course.”

Metaphysical electricity surged between us. I sucked in a breath. “My skin still feels like it’s on fire.”

“Mine, too. But I’m not going to let a little discomfort get the better of me.” He looked my way, a brow arched in challenge. “Are you?”

“Of course no—”

I came to a dead stop. I’d been so distracted by our touch that at first, I didn’t hear it.

“Layla?”

I shushed him and craned my head. From several alleys away came the unmistakable sounds of a struggle. I loosened the bars that caged my power. The sound of a whimper reached my ears. The whisper-softsnickof sharp teeth puncturing flesh. A muffled cry of pain. I dragged in a breath and scented the dry, brittle scent of buried things and a coppery tang suffused with aether.

A vampire had just spilled a witch’s blood.

I dropped Michael’s hand and rushed toward them.

CHAPTER 11

Deep within the shadowy maw of the alley, a vampire held a witch in its arms. The air around them shimmered with its glamour, like electrified heat waves rising from asphalt. Humans passing by would probably see a happy couple making out, but vamp magic didn’t work on shifters, and the sight that met me was much less romantic.

The bloodsucker was a huge, hulking male with oleaginous dark hair and nacreous blue-green eyes. Its skin was alabaster white, paper thin, and looked slightly… moist. This was why vampires needed glamour. No one would look at this creature and think it was human. The sight of it was deeply repellent to me on an instinctual level, and they only became more monstrous the older they got.

The witch it assaulted was short and curvy. Strands of her mousy blond hair clung to the vamp’s clammy skin. Her brown eyes were wide in her face, and the smell of her fear permeated the air. Stronger still was her anger. She was pissed, and if given half the chance, might help me take the vampire down if I freed her.

I noted all of this within a second of entering the alleyway, my brain working on overdrive to assess the current threat.

The vampire pulled its lips from the witch’s neck and backed up, dragging her with him, deeper into the shadows, where it wouldn’t be seen from the street. Its hand was clamped over her mouth in a viselike grip that must have been painful. Her eyes met mine and she tried to yell through it, whether asking for help or trying to curse the bloodsucker, I couldn’t tell.

I let out a low growl and took a measured step forward. I didn’t like witches, but Ihatedvampires. I had been bred to kill them. My worst memories involved an ancient one ripping my birth pack to pieces. Not even the fact that we’d earned her wrath lessened my hatred of the species. The countless hours I’d spent in my adoptive pack’s therapist’s office working through the resulting trauma were useless to me now. Seeing this vampire attacking someone brought all of my terror and rage boiling to the surface.

Back then, I’d been too helpless to save anyone. Things were different now. This vampire was young. From the feel of its magic, I’d say it was less than a year undead.

I could take it.

An echo of my mother’s warning tried to surface then, cautioning me against anger. I smothered it. In my shoes, she’d step in and do something, too. She wouldn’t just let a vampire kill a witch in front of her.

“Hey, asshole,” I said, moving forward.

Michael grabbed my shoulder. “Wait for backup.”

The vampire smiled. It was a terrible sight. Its teeth were long and needle-sharp. They dripped crimson like something out of a nightmare. When it spoke, the voice that rasped out of it sounded like a dry wind scorching through a barren wasteland. “I killed your backup.”

Michael stiffened, fingers digging into my shoulder. “Layla?”

I took a deep pull through my nose. Son of a bitch. “It smells like wolf blood.”

Anger thundered through the bond. Michael let go of my shoulder and stepped beside me. His face was open, tone conversational, betraying nothing of his true feelings. “Free the witch, and I won’t tell your brood leader that you attacked her in the middle of my territory.”

I could tell from his scent that he was lying. Hell, the vamp probably knew he was lying—they had some freaky magic. The question was,whywas Michael lying? Was he stalling? Hoping someone would find the bodies and converge on us? Or give a passing sentry time to feel the vamp here?

Wait a second. Why hadn’twefelt the vamp? Was this one so young that it slipped under our magical radar? I concentrated, directing my power in its direction. Nothing. It didn’t even register as a vampire from this close. Like it didn’t exist. Or was cloaked. But Michael said they couldn’t do that.

What the hell was going on here? Why did nothing make sense in this Goddess-cursed city?

The vampire’s grin widened. “What makes you think my brood leader would care?” It pulled the witch back a few more steps, staring Michael down, and then leaned in and dragged its long tongue over her savaged neck. She jerked away and kicked at its shins. It chuckled like it thought her struggle was cute, and then licked her again, lapping up her blood like a cat with a saucer of milk.

In general, I didn’t think of myself as a violent person. I’d trained pretty hard not to be. The instincts might be there, but I was able to think past them and instead solve my conflicts with words. Right now, no amount of talking would lessen my desire to punch the smug smile off this vampire’s face. It had come into Michael’s territory, killed wolves, attacked a witch, and now it was taunting us.