Page 33 of The Wayward Sons & The Vampires of Fortune (The Wayward Sons #4)

M y heart lodged in my throat. Neither Sam nor I moved as the vampire surveyed the garage, that awful clicking growing louder. We were only safe for so long while we hid.

Was it just the one?

Or more?

Were we surrounded?

Fuck.

“Do you have the gun?” Sam whispered in my ear.

The clicking stopped, and we both froze.

Fuck.

My heart beat so fast in my chest that I was certain the vampire could hear it.

“Yeah.” I barely had a chance to answer before a horrible screech filled the small garage.

It rounded the corner fast, the white bone of its face a stark contrast to the dark.

Sam shoved me to the side and exploded in a vibrant array of golden light, flooding the place with its brightness.

He attacked the vampire, I drew my gun.

Ready, aim…

All I needed was one good opening— a fucking long shot, considering the tiny target I had to hit.

He punched, blocked, and stepped back.

The vampire followed, matching blow for blow.

Inhale…

Exhale…

My heart was in my throat as I tracked every single movement—every punch, every sound, every kick.

Find my calm…

I couldn’t take the shot if I lost it.

As Sam lashed out, the vampire latched onto his wrist and yanked him in. Fangs buried into his forearm.

Without hesitating, I fired. The bullet wouldn’t do a damn thing, but it did catch the vampire in the side of the skull and forced it to detach from him. Sam took the chance to drag it close enough to lock an arm around the vampire’s neck.

“Shoot it!” Sam shouted, his voice tight as he grappled with the vampire to hold it in place. I tried to get a good shot, but there was no way in hell I’d be able to do so and guarantee the bullet didn’t go through it and kill him.

“I’m not shooting you,” I told him, keeping the target in sight.

“Follow the fucking vampire, Ryder!” he ordered. “Three… two… one !”

He shoved the struggling vampire to the side. The second he was out of range, I emptied my gun into the vampire’s face. Was it overkill? Absolutely. But I didn’t care. Better safe than sorry.

The vampire seized, fracturing and turning to dust.

“Son of a bitch!” Sam panicked, the feeling sucker-punching me in the gut. He fumbled and yanked on his belt to get it off. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“How bad is—”

“It fucking bit me!” he exclaimed. Vampires—among everything else horrible about them—were venomous to hunters. Not that any ever survived being bitten. Slipping the gun in my waistband, I hurried forward to help. I grabbed the belt from him and tightened it around his bicep.

“Do not let that bite go above your heart,” I ordered. The words were barely out of my mouth before he stumbled. I tried to help him, but he pushed me away.

He waved toward the car door as he grabbed the hood for support.

“Inside…” Sam whispered around ragged breaths. How quickly did vampire venom work? “Inside…”

“Inside, where?”

“Middle console… fuck .” He sank to the ground.

I didn’t wait for anything more, unsure if he’d be able to say whatever the hell he was trying to tell me.

I rifled through the middle console—papers, snacks, gum, and a pouch.

The pouch was the only thing that made any sense.

Inside, there were two vials of a clear liquid and two packaged syringes.

“Is this anti-venom?” I demanded loudly. I slid out of the car quickly enough to catch his faint nod.

Well, fuck. They made vampire anti-venom.

I didn’t question. This was the same group of people with vampire-killing bullets. I just rolled with it because at this point, what the hell did I know?

I knelt next to him and tore open the syringe. I made quick work of filling it. How much did he need? A little? A lot? Fuck it. I filled it until the barrel was full. Better safe than sorry.

“You need to breathe, Sam,” I said while pushing up his sleeve. I didn’t like the guy, but that didn’t mean I wanted him to die either, and panicking wouldn’t help the situation. If anything, the adrenaline would force it to his heart faster.

“Can’t… fuck . Phone…” His body jerked as he shifted his weight in an attempt to get his phone out of his pocket. I helped despite how awkward it was. His hand shook so violently as he unlocked the phone that he almost dropped it twice. Talking to the phone, he said, “Call Jade.”

Thank God for smartphones because it worked without me having to do anything. It rang twice, and I found myself hoping someone answered—someone who could calm him down.

“ Daddy! ” the loudest, shrillest little voice greeted happily. I wasn’t expecting a kid. “ You called! ”

The mixture of relief and comfort that swirled through him was overwhelming.

“Hey, pretty girl…” Sam said. His eyes shut, and his head tipped back against the car.

“ Are you okay? You sound weird. ”

“Uh…” He inhaled sharply as I took the opportunity to inject him with the antivenom. He swallowed hard, and his body tensed painfully. Still, he managed to say, “Yeah, yeah, I’m good. I… I was working out… worked out a little too hard.”

“ You’re old, ” the little girl giggled. I held my tongue, biting back a laugh. Only kids.

“You know what would help me feel better?” Sam whispered. “Sing for me?”

There was no hesitation as she broke out into a messy rendition of a country song, jumbling words and making stuff up as she sang. Whatever it was, it brought him comfort, which was needed as his pain raked over my nerves. I did my best to block it out, but I was too worn down.

My jaw clenched as I focused on watching the deep puncture marks in his arm. Something black and oily bubbled out of them. Disgusting. Demons were fucking weird.

We sat there in the dark for what felt like an eternity while Sam’s daughter sang louder with each verse and black liquid oozing out of his arm.

Smoke twirled in the air as it dissolved into nothing.

I touched my fingers to the inside of his wrist, feeling for his pulse and waiting as his heart rate steadied.

I studied him, paying close attention to his mannerisms. I looked for signs of things going south, but he seemed good—a little worn around the edges but otherwise fine.

When I was sure he was fine, I pulled away and stood, moving quickly to put some distance between the two of us.

I needed to breathe. I was full of conflicted feelings about a guy I wanted to hate.

“She’s five,” Sam explained after hanging up. He rolled down his sleeve, hiding the wound. “Her mother was killed by a demon. I haven’t hunted… I’m all she has.”

The sudden panic made sense.

“Then why are you here?”

“Like I said, I owe him.”

Ah, yes. A guilty conscience could make anyone do something stupid.