36. Wren

CHAPTER 36

Wren

I sprinted blindly along the hallway, only to find myself sprawled on the floor, skidding along on my front as if I were on a slip ’n’ slide, if the slip ’n’ slide were made from Italian marble and the hose were spraying blood. Trying not to puke, I ploughed into a lump at the end and found myself face to face with a pile of entrails and… “Joseph?”

“My apologies. Things got slightly messy.”

The metallic stench of blood hung thick in the air, and ruby drops fell from the huge, curved knife in his hand. His eyes glowed red. Instinct sent me scrambling backward, but I didn’t get very far before I starfished onto my ass.

Joseph nudged the guard’s body with a shiny leather shoe. “Relax. I’ve disposed of most of them, but there are a couple left somewhere at the rear.”

Don’t puke, don’t puke, don’t puke. Since I was already way, way beyond horrified, I accepted Joseph’s offer of a hand because what was a little more blood between friends?

“What about Laurent?”

“Blane is taking care of Laurent. ”

“Blane is wrestling with a werewolf.”

“Yes, exactly.”

After the day I’d experienced, I don’t know why I hadn’t guessed.

“Laurent is the werewolf?” I asked, just to check.

Joseph chuckled. “We thought they were all in Eastern Europe, but what do you know? There’s one right here in Vegas.”

“Don’t just stand there. Help Blane!”

“Blane can hurl fire at him for a few more minutes while I finish off the guards.”

“Not in the swimming pool, he can’t.”

“They’re in the swimming pool?”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

“Oh. Oh dear. Blane only passed his hand-to-hand combat course because he slept with the professor.”

“I did not need to know that,” I snapped, and Beauregard had the grace to look chagrined. “According to Aurelia, we need something silver and stabby. Or a silver bullet, but who the heck has one of those?”

“Decima. It’s her good-luck charm.” He glanced around. “Aurelia’s here?”

“No, we spoke on the phone while you were busy with your own personal remake of Scream .”

“Being disembowelled slows people down. If they try to run, they trip over their… Never mind. So…silver, huh? Maybe we could stick a fork in his eye?”

“That would blind him, but I doubt it would reach his brain.”

And I couldn’t believe we were even having this conversation.

“Depends on how hard one drives it in there. Do you have a better idea?”

“Maybe. ”

I took off at a run again, feeling marginally better now that I had backup. And if Joseph had taken out most of the guards, then Caria, Lola, and Myrtle had a good chance of living. Blane and Vee were in the most danger, but Aurelia said I needed Blane to help Vee.

In the great room, I ran to the coffee table and snatched one of the long-stemmed silver roses out of the skull vase, squinting for a hallmark. Please, please, please. Judging by the decor in this place, Delphine had expensive taste, and I hoped she hadn’t skimped when it came to the artwork.

Joseph quickly realised what I was doing, and he grabbed a flower as well.

“925 silver. Let’s go.”

Huh. Guess he had superhuman eyesight too.

And a better sense of direction than I did, because he set off without hesitation.

“Uh, now that we have the silver, how are we supposed to ram it into Laurent’s brain? Don’t you think we should address that before we go outside?”

“I’ll take care of it.”

He’ll take care of it. As I hustled after him, it struck me that this was my opportunity to flee. Most of the guards were gone, and Laurent was preoccupied. I could grab Caria and run. I still had Blane’s car key. But when I thought of him in the water, bruised and battered—for me—I realised I could no sooner leave him than leave my own soul.

Whether I liked it or not, whether I wanted to believe in his world or run screaming into the night, we were connected.

If I left him to his fate, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.

When we burst out the back door, Laurent was standing at the edge of the pool, his back to us, but Blane was nowhere in sight. But Joseph saw right away what I missed, and he didn’t hesitate. He sprinted across the terrace with a rose in his outstretched hand, poised to leap at Laurent.

The gunshots came out of nowhere.

Bullets ripped into Joseph’s chest, and he stumbled, looking more surprised than anything else.

The rose slipped from his fingers as he fell to his knees.

My own knees went weak as two guards stepped out of the pool house, their guns raised, firing again, focused only on the man dying before them. And Joseph was dying. Demon or not, his mortal body couldn’t hold up against the bullets thudding into him. With the last of his strength, Joseph raised his knife, and I thought that maybe he’d try to take at least one of the men out.

I gasped as he turned the blade on himself, slashing a thick wound across his stomach.

Then I screamed as the darkness escaped.

For a moment, it was all around us, a swirling, rushing malevolent cloud that knocked over lawn chairs and tore plants out of the ground. A shower of dirt hit me, and I blinked grit out of my eyes in time to see the cloud adopt a humanoid shape and start advancing toward the guards.

The men dropped their weapons and ran.

Hell, I wanted to run too, but then an arm broke the water in front of me, and I realised where Blane was.

He was drowning.

And I was the only one with a rose.

I didn’t stop to think things through. If I’d done that, my next stop would have been Texas. Instead, I ran across the terrace and leapt onto Laurent’s back, gripping slippery tufts of fur as I clawed my way forward. He stank of charred steak, and the roar as he tried to shake me off was unreal. But I clung on, digging my fingernails into burned and blistered skin, hoping I hurt him as much as he’d hurt the women of Vegas. One giant paw rose, but he couldn’t swipe me, not on his back.

“That’s for Caria,” I screamed as I plunged the stem of the rose into his left eye, right up to the petals.

His roar turned into a high-pitched yowl, and I plummeted into the pool as I finally lost my grip. It all happened so fast that I had no time to take a breath, and my lungs felt as if they were about to explode as I desperately tried to work out which way was up. But I had no time. Laurent toppled into the pool, the light in his eyes dimming, and I found myself forced down, down, down, and it didn’t matter that I could see the moon. I’d never reach it. Laurent was too big…too heavy… I couldn’t stand the burning in my chest any longer…

The last thing I saw was Blane’s beautiful face.

Then I closed my eyes and…sprawled across the pool deck?

“Breathe, dammit.” Blane thumped me on the back, and I vomited water over his feet. “Have you lost your mind?”

“Didn’t…didn’t want…you to die,” I choked out. Literally choked. How much water had I swallowed?

“I can’t die, my darling. I was just keeping him busy so he didn’t turn his attention to you.”

“But…but you’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine. The question is, are you okay?”

I burst into tears. Blane held me as I sobbed against his shoulder, my tears trickling down his now-flawless skin because honestly, there wasn’t much left of his clothing.

“That’s a really dumb question,” I blubbered.

“That’s fair.” He kissed my hair, and even in the midst of the devastation, I felt an inexplicable sense of peace. “If you killed a werewolf to save me, does that mean I’m forgiven? ”

I’d killed a freaking werewolf. Me. And I didn’t even feel guilty about it.

“You still have a lot more grovelling to do.”

He had come here to help me, but that didn’t make up for all the half-truths.

“Anything.” Another kiss. “Anything, I promise.” Then he leaned back to look at me, and I saw the deep-seated pain in his amber eyes. “Is Lola…? Is she…?”

“I told her to hide. Most of the guards seemed to be dead by then”—dead, freaking dead —“and Joseph dealt with the rest, so I think she’s okay. But Vee…” A sob welled up in my throat. “Laurent had a friend, and he took Vee. I think I blacked out, so I don’t really know what happened, but when I woke up, she was gone.”

“A man couldn’t just take Vee.”

“He wasn’t a man.” Another wave of emotions washed over me. “I th-th-think he was a vampire. Maybe her husband?”

“Fuck. Voltaire? Voltaire took her?”

“He told me his name was Rick.”

“Cédric Voltaire. Joseph!” Blane called. “We have another problem.”

Was this ever going to end?