Chapter 22

Anthony

G abriela and Garrett clawed ferociously at each other. Garrett was a beast, a creature of naked fury, but Gabriela was giving as good as she got, a look of prime disinterest on her face. Her blasé ferocity made Anthony squirm. Was she bored by all this?

"She's very old, and very, very strong." Freddie had sensed his confusion. "Not much can touch her. Stay out of her line of sight."

In the far corner of the room, Lillian and Rose had flanked Charles, who stood flat against the wall like a cornered cobra, reared and waiting to strike.

Freddie lifted Anthony's chair by the leg and smashed it. Left with a jagged piece of wood in his hand, he picked away at the end with inhuman speed, extending his claws and sharpening it to a point. He handed the newly made stake to Anthony.

"If worst comes to worst, use this. Aim for the heart."

"Freddie…"

A sharp cry came from Rose. Three claw marks ran across her face. They were weeping blood. She had gotten too close to Charles. Although she was in pain, she quickly recovered, growling at her attacker and shifting to keep him in his place.

"They need my help," Freddie whispered into Anthony's ear. "Don't underestimate Charles and Gabriela. Don't draw attention to yourself. Stay back, and only use the stake in self-defense."

Anthony nodded, not trusting himself to say anything. Freddie hugged Anthony hard, then turned to enter the fray.

Garrett was terrifying, a whirlwind of fangs and claws, but Gabriela was flowing around him, wielding a long, thin steel stiletto. She gave as good as she got, the wounds she inflicted biting deep into Garrett's flesh. Anthony wondered that she didn't use her own claws in fighting, but she was an expert in her weapon. Evenly matched, they were a blur of motion to Anthony's human sight.

Charles was still, his eyes glaring out in petty defiance from atop his cravat. The defensive position suited him. He lashed out when either Rose or Lillian got close, but otherwise stood like a statue, peering out at his enemies.

As Freddie reached them, Rose and Lillian made eye contact and attacked together. In one quick movement, faster than would seem possible, Charles grabbed each by the throat and hurled them against the opposite walls. Anthony heard the crunching of bones as the twin vampires hit, sliding to the floor. Both were still moving, but they were hurting.

Anthony backed away from the action, staying equidistant from the two fights. He grasped the sharpened chair leg tight in his hands. His instincts screamed he would never survive a fight with any of them, but his heart raced. He wished desperately to help Freddie. His eyes darted back and forth, keeping track of all the fighting.

He would never forgive himself if Freddie died rescuing him.

Freddie did not allow Charles to keep him at a distance, barreling in and grappling him, but the Azarian coven master was deceptively strong for someone with his slender frame. They locked together, straining with effort. Freddie growled like a jungle cat. Charles' eyes betrayed a flash of fear, but in a second it was gone, hidden behind his arrogant mask.

Gabriela and Garrett continued to give one for one. Both of them were tiring, their movements growing slower. As she whirled around, evading one of Garrett's claw strikes, she caught Anthony's gaze and raised her eyebrow.

"It didn't have to be like this, querida. Now all of you have to die."

The statement cost her, as her split concentration allowed Garrett to slash deep into her side. She flinched. It was the first time she'd shown any emotion during the fight.

Anthony berated himself. Freddie had told Anthony to avoid being noticed by her. His back to the wall, he inched away from her and Garrett, but could only go so far without getting pulled into the other brawl.

Freddie forced Charles out a few feet, and they strained against each other, their arms locked together. They both bled where their fingertips touched skin. Their claws had dug into the other's flesh.

Anthony flinched at the brutality of the fight. Freddie had dragged Charles from his defensive position, but he wasn't doing well. Charles hissed and lunged, trying to tear out Freddie's throat with his fangs. Freddie kept him at bay, but barely. Given time, Charles would overcome him. Azarian was fueled by some kind of perverted need for blood that Freddie couldn't match.

Then the moment came. The two vampires rotated as they struggled with each other. Charles' back was bare to Anthony. He lunged once again for Freddie, grazing his throat. Anthony saw a trickle of blood run down Freddie's long neck.

A red mist appeared in front of his eyes, and suddenly it was as if the spirit of some ancient beast had inhabited Anthony. He was in motion before he could stop himself. With a strength he'd never known, he plunged the wooden stake into Charles Azarian's back.

The squeal was painful, so loud that Anthony collapsed down to his knees, clutching his ears. The scream cowed whatever power had taken Anthony over. As it died down, he looked up to see Charles seizing on the ground, blood flowing from his wound.

Anthony locked eyes with Freddie, smiling. Although he was bent over, and bleeding from dozens of lacerations, Freddie smiled back.

The smile turned into a scream of fear, as something pierced Anthony's torso. There was a horrible burning in his gut, like someone had impaled him on a hot poker. He looked down to see Gabriela's stiletto knife buried in his stomach.

The last thing he saw as everything faded was Freddie flying across the room, claws outstretched, desperate to end Gabriela's life.

The last thing he heard was Freddie's anguished scream.

Then there was nothing.

***

For a long time, there was nothing.

The overwhelming smell of iron, but no light, no sound. Just darkness. He couldn't even feel himself breathe. Was he breathing?

It may have been eternity, or it may have been seconds. Anthony didn't know. His consciousness drifted until pain forced him back, a terrible blaze spreading throughout his entire body.

He had a body. It hurt, it hurt worse than anything he'd ever experienced, but it was there.

He tried to breathe.

Razor blades invaded his throat, the air itself an icy poison. He whimpered, scared that any movement would increase the torture, but he forced his eyes open.

The light must have been dim, just a flickering candle, but it was so bright it was as if his retinas had blown out. His vision was overexposed and blurry. He squinted, groaning.

"You are okay, my love. I am here."

Anthony couldn't move his head to look. He gave his pupils a moment to adjust to the room. When he spoke, his voice was a weak whisper.

"Freddie?"

The face of Anthony's mate came into focus. The terrified concern there hurt Anthony's heart. Despite the pain, Anthony was overjoyed that Freddie was alive.

"Take it slow, my sweet," Freddie said. "You've been through a lot."

"What happened?"

Freddie's brow furrowed. "Don't worry about—"

"Please, Freddie." Anthony lifted his hand to Freddie's forearm, squeezing with what little energy he had. "I need to know. What happened?"

Freddie sighed, and with his free arm reached to a small, mahogany nightstand. Anthony's eyes had adjusted such that he could see the entire room now. It was an elegant but simply furnished white bedroom. He lay in a four-poster bed. A bit of greenery was visible through the window next to him.

"Drink some water, and I'll tell you."

Freddie lifted the old-fashioned crystal glass to his lips, and Anthony let the liquid spill into his mouth. It hurt going down, but as it did, a cool feeling spread, soothing his ragged throat. When it hit his stomach, though, there was a wave of nausea, but it subsided quickly enough.

"What do you remember?"

Anthony blinked. "I…I staked him. Azarian. The bastard."

Freddie stroked his forehead, and the ache in his bones calmed a little.

"You did, my love. I'm so proud of you. If you hadn't, I don't know how that fight would have ended."

"He's dead?" Sudden dread filled him. He couldn't keep running from the asshole. "He has to be, right?"

"You hit his heart. His death was inevitable. Do you remember what happened next?"

"I…Gabriela!" Anthony's hand went to his stomach, searching for the wound, but all he found was the faintest of scars. "She gutted me. But…I shouldn't have healed so fast."

"No, you shouldn't have." A nervous look came over Freddie's face. He was tiptoeing around something. "Gabriela was more powerful than we imagined. Garrett is formidable, but she had the upper hand. When you took out her son, she threw Garrett off and attacked you."

"Did you kill her?"

"No. She was fast. Faster than me, even. She escaped down the subway tunnels."

"Oh." Anthony ran his fingers along his stomach. "But how am I okay? How long has it been? Where are we?"

"We're in London, in the coven house in Knightsbridge. It was the safest place. The fight was three days ago."

"Three days! Shouldn't I be in a hospital?"

Freddie gazed deep into Anthony's eyes, and Anthony's breath caught. Freddie was so vulnerable, and Anthony hated what he saw in his face. Fear.

"You'd be in hospital if you were still human. But you're not."

"What?"

"Gabriela was vicious. You lost so much blood. You would have died." Freddie paused, as if finding the courage to continue. "I had to turn you."

Anthony stared at his mate, trying to process his words. He was a vampire now? He didn't feel any different. He was still himself, although a version of himself who'd been run over by an eighteen-wheeler.

Freddie shifted back and forth, as if the silence was making him uncomfortable. He spoke with a nervous desperation.

"I'm so sorry, Anthony. We never discussed it. I wasn't sure if you wanted to be turned, but I had to save you. I couldn't lose you, not when I'd finally found you—"

Anthony lifted himself up and kissed Freddie, ignoring the pain. It was clumsy, their positions awkward, but it didn't matter. Anthony put all of his feelings for Freddie into that kiss: his gratitude, his admiration, and his love.

Freddie wrapped his arms around Anthony's back and guided him down to the mattress again. He pulled away.

"Anthony—"

"Freddie, you saved my life. Why would you ever think I wouldn't want this? I get to stay by your side for hundreds of years. It's the greatest gift."

"Yes, but you'll have to drink blood…"

"I don't have to kill humans, do I?"

"Vampires haven't done that in over a century. And if they do, we stop them."

"Then I'll be fine. More than fine. I'll have an incredible life. A life with you."

A tear trailed down Freddie's cheek. Had he been so terrified that Anthony would reject him? Anthony vowed Freddie would never have to feel that way again.

Freddie kissed him on the forehead. Anthony yawned, unable to help himself.

"Rest, my sweet. Your body is recovering from the transformation. I had to drain your blood and replace it with mine. Your abilities are still developing."

Anthony nodded and closed his eyes. A gentle lub-dub reached his ears. Was that…was that Freddie's heartbeat? The beginning of his enhanced supernatural senses?

The sweet, steady beat of his mate's heart lulled him to perfect sleep.