Page 34 of Protected by the Vampire

Wait, that was Soren’s other friend.

The fae.

Pointy ears and all.

I laughed, until it ended in a groan when I tried to push myself up. My vision swam and head pounded like it might split open. My arm trembled under my weight—and then I was slammed back down.

Beneath a boot, or a hand, I couldn’t tell. Just crushing pressure against my chest.

Darkness crept in at the edges of my vision.

Patrick moved into view above me, his grin slow and satisfied. “He will be mine,” he said.

“No,” I rasped, the word barely more than a breath.

He wouldn’t get him.

Soren wouldn’t go with him.

He couldn’t.

He was mine.

Mine the same way I was his.

I fumbled blindly over the floor, searching for anything, a weapon, leverage, something?—

My fingers brushed metal.

A gun.

Hope flared.

I grabbed it, lifting?—

Patrick flicked his wrist.

The gun tore from my grasp like it weighed nothing, clattering uselessly across the floor.

“It’s time to die,” he said.

A snarl ripped through the air.

It was somewhere close.

There was a flash of red and white—Riker.

The fox launched, jaw snapping shut around the back of Patrick’s neck with vicious precision.

Patrick jerked, more startled than hurt, his focus breaking.

I blinked, vision blurring from the pain radiating through every inch of me, my head ached the worst. The sounds of fighting echoed around me—roars, gunfire, shouts—but they felt far away now.

Muffled.

Distant.

My eyelids grew heavy.