Page 32 of Beautiful Madness

More daywalkers flew toward melike huge, deadly bats—manymore—and all I could do was turn off mythoughts and my worry and become what my birth mother had wanted me to become.

A killing machine.

Chapter Sixteen

This stretch along theriverbank was secluded and not exactly a popular spot for people to gather, butpeople did go down there. It was the site of quick drug deals and hookups, andsome of Jakeston’s homeless pitched their tents not half a mile from the veryspot the detective and I had parked.

Maybe the daywalkers simplywanted to wipe out anyone who might carry tales back to the city. Or maybe theyjust wanted to eat us.

But it didn’t seem that way tome at all. They were angry, and they’d come to kill.

I knew that if he’d made it tohis car, Rick would be out of his mind with worry over me—but I also knew hewould do what he’d always done when it came to me and the monsters. He’d besmart. He understood that there was no chance he could help me and that hecouldn’t take them on. Maybe he’d take off, drive a safe distance away and hopelike hell that I’d join him later.

No way would he interfere,because hecouldnot.

But as I fought with everythingI had, moving like a vicious wind to keep the daywalkers from overwhelming mewith sheer numbers, I discovered I was wrong about Rick.

He flicked on his high beams,and I had a moment to realize his car was roaring right at us before he wassuddenly plowing through the crowd of daywalkers surrounding me. That he couldeasily have hit me as well was something he didn’t appear to be too worriedabout. Maybe he thought I had enough sense to leap out of the way.

I did, and he put the car inreverse and ran over a few more daywalkers as he was backing up. I wished Icould have spoken to him. I’d have told him to take off and let me do my job.

He surely realized the futilityof running over a bunch of daywalkers, because even now they were getting totheir feet, they were healing, and they were rushing back into the fight.

I could only hope he wouldn’tstart shooting, because that would bring too much attention. It also wouldn’ttake out the daywalkers, and chances were that I’d get hit, as well.

Ordinarily, he’d have calledJared. He couldn’t do that now.

And at the thought, my mindwent grimly dark, and I let the last of my distractions and worries slide away.It wasn’t the first time I’d fought a crowd of monsters alone, and it wouldn’tbe the last.

Unfortunately, my reserves werea little depleted—I should have eaten before rushing off to hunt monsters andtrack my alpha. I’d just fought Eli and his wolves, and I wasn’t exactly ahundred percent.

And the fucking daywalkers werea bunch of toothy motherfuckers who liked to bite. Assholes. I understood whatthey were doing. Their instincts were to bite, because they wanted to not onlyget some blood inside them but to turn whatever victim they didn’t kill.

Luckily, I was no victim.

I did call my magic, but it wasa little slow in arriving. It was also haphazard and messy, but I didn’t care.I just needed it to come, and it did. My sessions with the wolf elder wouldhelp me pretty it up. Right now I just needed it to kill anything that cameclose to me, and I needed it to cover my demon blade so the daywalkers’ magic—weakin some of them but strong in others—couldn’t keep my blade or my stake fromtheir hearts.

But there were so many of themthat I had no time to actually stake them. I sliced them up, yes. They droppedlike flies around me.

Problem was, they got back up.

And beneath the bloodlust andmy genuine love of fighting, a little niggle of worry crept in. I had my woodenstake in my left hand and as often as I could, I stabbed it into a daywalker’schest—and I did lower the number of attacking mutant vampires.

Just not enough.

I needed my crazy psycho magic.I needed the stuff I’d used in the basement of Scarlett’s.Thatwas whatthe wolf elder needed to help me with the most, because though I was calling mymagic and it was awesome and beautiful and helpful, so damn helpful, I wasn’tcalling the magic I needed most. That crazy, killing magic.

But then something horrifyinghappened, and Ididcall it.

The daywalkers got their handson my fucking detective.

“Ohhellno,” Iscreamed, and my crazy exploded from deep inside me where it had been hidingwith my wolf, or my shapeshifter, or whatever the hell else was crammed down inthere. I called my magic.

My real magic.

I could only thank God that I’dsomehow seen Rick in the crowd. That even as they fought me, some of thedaywalkers had dragged him from his car and were fighting over him. That waswhat saved him, and that was what brought my magic.

My crazy, emotional magic wasfueled by my absolute terror that I would lose the ones I loved. The humanshe’d been trying to save would be long dead, and I barely spared them athought.