Chapter 32

Thirty-Two

A drenaline and endorphins spiked in Quinn's brain, and without thinking, she searched the ground and found a broken bottle. It would have to do as a weapon.

What are you doing, Quinn? You can't fight vampires.

A war raged in her head between fear, bravery, and logic. Logically, Quinn wouldn't be able to overpower two vampires. But if she did nothing, then the woman might die. But if she helped, then she might die. Glancing around, Quinn searched for someone else, but it was dark, and everyone partied in the high-end districts. No one was on the outskirts of the Nature district.

But Quinn couldn't walk away. The first rule of medicine was to do no harm. Walking away would be harmful.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Ignoring her thoughts, she charged the alley with her tiny, jagged bottle at the ready. One of the vampires leaned against the wall, a hood obscuring its face, watching the male sink his teeth into the woman's jugular.

"You need to stop drinking so much. You'll kill her if you don't stop," the cloaked vampire said.

"I won't stop," the male hissed.

Quinn stood transfixed with the bottle in the air. And it was then that she truly realized that she was no match against a vampire. Coming into the alley was so stupid .

What was I thinking, running into danger like a silent film hero? I'm no hero.

Attacking vampires was foolish, but Quinn also couldn't leave the woman here to die. There were no good options . . . but perhaps it was better to run for help. Get Emrys. Anyone stronger than her. Turning on her heel, Quinn ran to warn someone—to do something besides watch the woman die. Unfortunately, both vampires' had exceptional hearing, and their ears perked up. In a blink, the male was in front of her, blood dripping from his teeth. It wasn't lost on Quinn that this was at least the third time her lack of stealthiness had gotten her in trouble.

But then again, every time she'd eavesdropped before, she was also dealing with vampires. It was an unfair advantage.

Curiosity killed the cat . . . and Quinnevere Ashelle?

"Hello, pretty little thing, you smell divine," he said with a grotesque smile. "I wonder if you taste divine."

Three things happened all at once. The vampire lunged, Quinn raised the severed glass bottle, and the cloaked vampire screamed, "No."

Then, the world stilled.

The vampire yelped with pain as his fingers touched Quinn's skin. At the exact moment, she sliced upward at his face and took a nasty chunk out. With a guttural hiss, he lunged again, and his two porcelain fangs tried to strike Quinn's neck, but she turned into a pirouette-on attitude and kicked him in the side. His teeth scraped her shoulder. Coming out of the turn, she kicked the man in the face.

He stumbled back but jumped up far quicker than humanly possible—far faster than she expected. Black claws grew out of his fingernails, swiping and slicing at her.

She somersaulted and rolled back onto her feet, the glass shard at the ready. The creature was far too fast and strong. He pinned her to the ground, punctured her side, and sliced down her chest with his claws.

Crimson bubbled out of her corset and spilled onto the cobblestones. A burning pain radiated through her bones.

But Quinn didn't give up.

Clutching the glass, she stabbed him in the eye. He howled, and his claws pierced into the woman's neck, slightly breaking the skin as his fangs plunged at her carotid. Seconds after he tore out her throat, the second vampire grabbed him and swiftly broke his neck. The attacker crumbled to the alley floor.

Darkness and mystery cloaked the second vampire's face. Shadows and murder radiated from them as if they were the darkness itself. A beautiful, deadly darkness.

Even up close, she couldn't distinguish their gender, possibly because the vampire was obscuring her senses with their glamour. It studied her silently, a claw outstretched.

Quinn's heartbeat soared as the vampire slowly examined, taking in the human they'd saved.

But why?

They hovered above with preternatural stillness and grace. Without even seeing its face, Quinn knew that this creature was stunning. If not in their actual appearance, then in their enchanting essence. An essence as powerful as a shooting star.

At once, Quinn was fiercely drawn to and utterly repulsed by it—too much power in such a creature.

Quinn's breaths came out in ragged bubbles, blood filling her mouth. Her heart played a presto tempo in her chest—working far too hard. Fear licked her spine. Was this how it all ended? Would Quinn be the next body?

Forgotten.

No .

Placing the hilt of her palm on the ground, she pulled herself away from the vampire. Her hazel gaze caught on the woman who lay still and dying. Quinn had a choice: try to run or try to save her. She inhaled sharply, the process excruciating .

Pebbles and dirt spiked at her hands as she crawled toward the woman. Blood gushed from the wound in the woman's throat, and Quinn punched her fingers into the jagged skin, trying to feel for the rupture in the carotid artery, trying to halt the bleeding.

Success was an elusive dream. This woman was going to die, and there was nothing Quinn could do about it.

Failure coursed through her veins, and blood pooled between Quinn's fingers as the light in the woman's eyes faded. Only a couple years older than Quinn, the woman's life evaporated. Just gone. Just slipped into nothing.

Tears stung at the edges of her eyes. She'd performed many autopsies and studied many dead bodies, but she hadn't watched somebody die. Never seen the moment their spirit left forever.

Not even when her parents died, no, she'd hid under a table and squeezed her eyes shut—only seeing the dead bodies afterward.

This was the first time she saw death's embrace.

Shock bruised Quinn's soul, and her trembling fingers remained fixed on the dead woman's neck.

Their blood mingled together, pouring from Quinn's chest wound onto the victim. The longer she froze, the more blood leaked out and the more desperate her own situation became.

But she couldn't get her fingers to move. She couldn't turn to meet the vampire who still hovered behind her.

"Oh, Quinny." The vampire's sultry, wicked tone snaked at the nape of her neck, causing hairs to rise. "Quinny, Quinny, Quinn, turn around."

It had a voice of death.

Hot breaths heated the back of her neck.

Chills rolled down her spine. Rolling her shoulders back and holding her head high, she tried to be strong and face her death with bravery.

This creature would not see her beg or cry.

Cold fingers stroked her chin and tucked her blood-soaked hair behind her ear .

"You were not supposed to see this." The vampire whispered into her ear. "This was not supposed to happen." The vampire moved their hand over the fang marks on Quinn's shoulder, making sure not to touch her skin. "Move away from the girl, Quinny. She is dead."

Quinn was a granite statue, her limbs heavy and limp. Even if she wanted to move, she wasn't sure if she could. But she didn't even try to move. If her last living act was to defy this vampire, then that was what she was going to do.

They clicked their tongue. "Tsk, tsk, tsk, you're a bad, bad ballerina. Don't make me compel you."

"Then do it," she breathed with a tiny squeak.

"Move away from the body." The vampire's sultry voice slightly shifted to a hypnotic enchantment. One that she couldn't refuse.

It clawed at the back of her mind like an invasion.

A parasite.

And she had to comply. This magic was far more potent than Francois's siren song. This was an immovable wall.

Quinn's movements were slow and filled with agony. Every tiny shift shot jolts of pain through her. Heaving herself away, she left a streak of crimson in her wake. When she had no strength, she collapsed against the wall.

With a swift movement, far gentler than she'd expected, the vampire flipped her body over and leaned her against the wall. "I am sorry about this."

They slid a finger across her shoulder, dipping it in her blood before sucking it into its mouth. With this motion, their hood fell from its face, their expression pure agony like the blood burned its esophagus.

"Hmmm. You always taste sweet."

Always ?

They'd tasted her blood before?

Quinn scowled and recognized the vampire. They looked slightly different, but —

"Forget my face," the vampire said hypnotically.

Suddenly, Quinn's brain fogged. She knew that face—she did—but now it was all a blur. Blinking, she tried to correct her vision. Yet, despite staring into their eyes, she couldn't tell what color they were. She had face blindness.

"You were never supposed to be involved," the vampire said, sorrow painting their words. "As soon as I leave this alley, you will forget our interaction. You will wake up next to a dead body, not knowing how you got here, and the next time you see me, you will know my face and have fond feelings." The vampire stroked her forehead sweetly. "Goodbye, little Quinny. Try not to die from blood loss. That would ruin everything." The creature glanced down at Quinn's ruined body and shook its head. "That will not do. I'll have to get one of your terrible friends to help you."

The words lingered in the air as a grey fog rolled into her mind, and blackness claimed her.