Page 53 of Bold Mercy

I nodded. He wasn’t wrong. The detective was one of us. But he couldn’t physically fight like we could, and his vulnerability worried me. “You’re one of us,” I said. “You protect this city against the bad guys. But you’ll be killed if they attack and you fight, Rick. If they come…”

His smile was somewhat dry. “I know my limitations. I’ll get Louis to safety, and I’ll protect him and this household. It’s the job he has asked me to do, and that’s the job I will do—at least until I get a supply of silver bullets.”

I couldn’t hide my relief. I looked up when the reporters laughed at something Remy said, and my gaze drifted immediately to Jared. As though he felt my regard, he turned his head slightly and looked at me, and so much heat sizzled inside me I was sure everyone close to me would feel it. Abruptly overheated, I shoved the crushed bottle into my coat pocket and then shrugged the coat off, though that did little to cool me off.

Jared’s lips twitched even as his stare sharpened, gleaming and savage, and I could not turn away from the blue fire of his alpha wolf’s eyes. My own wolf responded, fierce and feral, ready to forget the vampires and do something a lot more fun than wait for a fight that might never come.

There wasn’t a sign of the wound that had nearly killed him, but I knew he wouldn’t forget how close he’d come to death. Neither of us would.

I was so wrapped up in him that I started toward him, and maybe I’d have pulled him away right there in front of everybody and let him slam me up against a wall deep in the shadows, but that was the moment Avis Vine decided to attack.

Oh, she didn’t personally come—she wasn’t ready for the endgame just yet—but she sent vampires, and she sent something worse. Demon-filled humans.

Shit.

The reporters scattered and the security team flew into action, pulling stakes and blades, some of them fumbling with their guns before they realized they couldn’t use them. They’d only shoot each other, and their bullets weren’t going to hurt a vampire anyway. But old habits died hard and thinking calmly under such pressure was difficult for even the ones who’d been fighting the supernatural for a long time.

One of the reporters—the woman who’d seemed so contemptuous earlier—stood with her cameraman against the brick wall surrounding the yard, talking excitedly. She wasn’t about to leave, though both of them had to be terrified. Their need to get the story was bigger than their fear.

I left the vampires to the others, and I went after the demons. I had the demon blade, and I was the only one there who could extract the demons without killing their hosts. And sticking that blade into the demons gave me an almost orgasmic satisfaction. I didn’t just wield the blade—I was part of it. It was part of me.

When the humans were down, empty of demons, I turned on the vampires. I was full of energy, bloodlust, and exhilaration, and I was full of crazy. I felt like I could have taken them all on by myself and won. Maybe I was wrong, but my wolf and I, we would always have a hell of a time trying.

It was like every time I went into a battle, I came out a little less…human.

Still, I worried about my friends, even now. Rick had raced away to protect the mayor, but he didn’t go inside himself, damn him. Not at first. He’d meant to, I was sure, but he ended up helping reporters and cameramen to the safety of the house. He did go inside, finally, leaving me and the wolves to fight the intruders.

But there was also Joe and Zach, and along with Rick, they were the most vulnerable. Not that they weren’t holding their own. These vampires were not as strong, fast, or deadly as they usually were. They began to fall.

And I understood suddenly why.

These vampires were newly turned. Perhaps a night ago, or an hour ago, they’d been human. They were fighting out of desperation. They’d been ordered to do so. Mostly, though, they just wanted to eat.

Their fangs were almost as grotesque as Avis’s, and their claws, though long, bluish black, and sharp, were delicate. They hadn’t had time to strengthen. The vampires hadn’t had time to grow their power. They were still infants. Starving infants.

It was…horrifying.

We killed them, of course, because they were vampires, and there were no other choices. And the humans who saw what happened tonight were going to forget their temporary hope. They were going to forget every word I’d said, because they would see that the vampires were turning humans—and so very quickly—and things were going to go to a whole new level of horror.

I turned, plunged a stake into a vampire’s chest, and as he fell, I looked up and saw two of the newly turned vampires take Joe down. Every single person in the security detail had already fallen or fled, because they were human, and they were not hunters.

They should not have been fighting there that night, and Joe should not have been fighting either. But if he survived, he was going to end up being a spectacular fighter. He had a hunter’s blood in his veins, and he was too good not to end up a hunter—and it was clear that he loved the work.

But first, he had to survive the night.

I’d help him with that. If I’d have been thinking clearly and if the air hadn’t been so veiled with blood that I felt I was isolated in that courtyard, then maybe I would have been more careful. I’d have slowed down a little. I’d have been less…nonhuman. But I threw myself into the vicious joy of the fight, and I forgot to hide.

When I reached Joe, he was buried beneath the bodies of four hungry vampires, and at least one of them had his blood on their nasty fangs. I could smell it. And that just pissed me off. I flung them against the brick wall, hard, so hard, breaking bones and smashing skulls. I left them there for one of the others to stake and behead. I was intent only upon making sure Joe was okay. That he would live. That his scars and trauma would not be bigger than his desire to fight another vampire another night.

He was my friend.

But when I pulled the last vampire off him, Joe’s face was a mask of blood and his eyes were closed, and for a millisecond, I thought I was too late.

“Joe,” I yelled, and when I felt for a pulse, it was there. Barely, but it was there. I looked around at the waning battle and spotted Jared loping toward me.

“I’ve got him,” he told me. He scooped him off the ground and tossed him over his shoulder, then held his hand out to me.

But the night was not finished with us yet. As my fingers touched his, Farrow, the vampire who’d first asked me to save Bastien, leaped from the brick wall and landed hard in the courtyard, crouching on the pavers like a wild thing.

She only ever came to me when Bastien was in trouble. I guess I knew now why the county master had refused my invitation to meet.

Most likely, he’d found Avis.

Or she’d found him.