Page 67 of Hot Vampire Next Door: Season Five

The shifters and vampires go after the Fairies of Suffering and my stomach drops when I see how they fight.

Their violence is like physical poetry. Elegant. Concise. Every movement short, but punctuated with pain. They cut through the vampires and shifters with barely any effort at all.

Goosebumps race up my arms.

We are in trouble.

Going straight for Maven, Bran lands a punch to the prince’s stomach and the fae doubles over. Arion charges too, his blade drawn. But Maven dances away, sucking in air.

Bran moves faster than the fae prince, but not by much. And Maven recovers quickly, pulling his own sword from the sheath at his hip.

Now it’s Maven against Bran and Arion. They circle one another.

On my left, Baspin and Bianca fight two Fairies of Suffering with their blue-flamed magic and manage to bring one to their knees.

On my right, Cal steps between Sam and another fairy, his face already covered in splatters of blood.

Maven swipes his blade in an arch, catching Arion across the arm. The fabric of his shirt splits open and blood pours from the wound.

A chill spreads over my shoulders and my breath puffs out white in front of me, then crystalizes into snowflakes.

The crackle of power dances down the nape of my neck.

I know Maven is a victim of circumstance, and he’s been lied to his entire life by a mother who wanted only power, but he is not, and will not, harm my brother or my boyfriend.

I won’t let it happen.

Instinct takes over.

I may not fully understand my own powers, but I have faith my body does. The power has always been there. And now I’m going to use it.

The darkened sky grows darker as thick clouds roll in. Snow swirls in the air, the wind picking up. Soon the snow is ice, cutting across my skin, swirling around me like a tornado.

Maven charges after Bran as Arion tries to stop the flow of blood pouring from his arm.

I raise my hands, pulling from whatever deep well of power I have. Ice spreads out from my fingers and power snaps through the air.

“Maven!” I shout, distracting him before he hurts Bran.

I yank on that power, feeling the buzz of it, the connection between me and the earth and the air.

Maven looks up just as giant icicles fall from the sky aimed right for him.

Episode Ninety-Five

ANCIENT MONSTER

BRAN

The fae prince, or rather, the bastard prince, charges toward me.

I’m prepared for a hit. Prepared to take the blow in order to distract him in the seconds that come after.

It’s always best to strike a man when he thinks he’s winning a fight. Pride gets in the way. Excitement steals focus.

I have none of those weaknesses.

Except…Maven never reaches me.