Page 51 of Bitten Vampire

He sways, then drops to his knees.

“You are welcome,” I add as he face-plants onto the tarmac. “Huh, I’m a badarse.”

The stake slaps into my palm.

What the heck…

Reinforcements inbound, kid. Ditch the car and run.

The voice is not House’s; it’s sharp, female, unfamiliar, and coming from the stake.

One downed vampire becomes four more, gliding from porches and rooflines. They circle, fangs bared.

“You killed Ian,” one of them snarls.

I can see why they would think that, what with him not breathing and all. But the vampire is asleep.

“Beryl?” I whisper.

Yes. Welcome to the party. Now move your undead arse!

I run. Rain lashes my face; my coat snaps behind me. The street blurs.

This is bad, very bad. I am running from vampires. Again. The border police caught me quickly last time, but perhaps—just perhaps—I can outrun this lot.

A spell slams between my shoulder blades, pitching me into a bin. Glass bottles clatter and smash; the plasticshell bounces across the pavement. My legs turn heavy, useless.

Not again.

I’m a pathetic excuse for a vampire.

The man who accused me of killing Ian steps towards me. He smiles—all teeth and promises of pain.

Yeah, it’s not a nice smile.

A door swings open to my left. A woman steps out, with dark hair and eyes of liquid silver that glow in the gloom.

Beast shine.

She’s a shapeshifter.

A cricket bat dangles loosely from her hand; she twirls it like a sabre.

“What’s going on here?” Her tone is flat, unimpressed.

“Nothing for you to worry about,” my accuser replies. “It’s a vampire matter. Go back inside.”

The shifter huffs, raising the bat. Her silver gaze narrows. “What I see,” she says, pointing the bat at him, “is five male blood derivatives circling one woman.”

“Five?” I mumble.

She flicks the bat upward. I follow the gesture and spot a vampire perched on the roof above me. If she hadn’t appeared, he’d have pounced.

“Go back inside,” the vampire repeats.

She bares her teeth in something that isn’t quite a smile. “Those aren’t the words,” she murmurs. “‘Go back inside, Alpha’s mate’—that’swhat you’re looking for.” Mockery drips from every syllable as she settles into a batting stance. “Nope. Don’t think I will. I rather fancy using your heads as cricket balls.”

I gulp. “Thank you, but you can’t take on all these vampires for me. No one else needs to be hurt.”