Page 126 of Marked By Moonlight

“Henrik.” One of the vampires grinned from a few steps away.

“Szabo,” he spat back.

Szabo bent into a bow, addressing me in an accent much thicker than Henrik’s. “And the lovely Miss Durand. A pleasure to finally meet you.”

His face was all angles, as if his creator had kept moving the ruler when sketching his outline.

“I believe we’ve met,” I said icily. “Though you turned your tail and ran rather quickly.”

The man behind him snickered, but Szabo kept up his arctic smile. “Perhaps, but you are the one running today.”

Not any more, unfortunately. Not now that they’d cut us off in either direction.

Then he switched to…Polish? Romanian? and spoke rapidly to Henrik. Something along the lines ofJoin us or perish,I guessed.

My knees wobbled. If Henrik did…

But even if he remained loyal, what hope of escape did I have?

Three pairs of vampire eyes lasered in on my neck, and I imagined their mouths watering.

A thousand questions raced through my head. Was Szabo the one who had threatened Marius with those pictures? How had he reached the south side of the river when he’d been sighted on the north side a short time ago? And yikes. Would these men suck the life out of me slowly or end it all quickly?

My palm sweated against the pipe, and my mind screamed.

Escape! Escape!

It wouldn’t feel right to leave Henrik behind, but living life as a coward beat dying nobly.

Still, that was a moot point. I had no way of sneaking around these killers.

Then it hit me. Actually, I did.

Shadow-walking.

I gripped the pipe hard, doubting I had the skill to pull it off around so many highly sensitive supernaturals. But given my lack of alternatives…

I took a deep breath and started cataloging my position. The lighting. The cracks in the asphalt beneath my feet, and the pattern of tiles covering the wall beside me.

The wolf shifters prowled closer, eyeing me greedily.

“You sure you want to kill her, Etienne?” one called to the stockier man beside him in French.

I froze. The one Marius had tangled with?

Brown eyes, long white teeth, nick in one ear. This was Etienne?

He rubbed his chin. “I’m starting to rethink that.”

The wordssexandtraffickingparaded through my mind like thugs in a police lineup.

I looked at my feet, trying to find a position that wouldn’t appear too odd for a terrified woman to remain in, unmoving, for several minutes. I was too panicky to pull off a walking, talking illusion.

Rolled up in a pathetic ball would be easiest — but a little too meek, even for my ego. So I kept my eyes on my feet and my shoulders slumped, letting my chest rise and fall as little as possible. Then I closed my eyes, duplicated exactly that image, and stepped away.

I forced myself to snap my eyes open and check the illusion. Not bad, really.

I inched toward the wall and started moving sideways.