Page 66 of Vampire so Virtuous (Boston Vampires #1)

Joon was teaching his usual black belt evening class when she walked in. There only five students, all rising stars on the way to their second dans—except for one familiar face, who might be aiming for his third.

She leaned against the wall, watching as Joon corrected one of the students’ technique. He exchanged a quiet word with the student before heading toward Cally, the class continuing their sparring.

“Did we have a session this evening?”

“No. Just a spur-of-the-moment visit.”

“You missed your last two sessions.”

Cally winced. “I know. I need to talk to you, okay? Are you free after this?”

“Yeah.” He paused, studying her. “You all right?”

“Something’s happened, and, well, let’s wait until the class is done.”

Joon studied her, then spun on his heel. “ Hana, dul, set—Guman!” He called. “We’re about done anyway,” he said, as the class pulled apart and lined up. “Cool-down time. Ten minutes stretching, then you can hit the showers and go home. Anyone slow to get out spars with Cally here.”

A few chuckles rippled through the group, and a couple of students threw looks her way. They all knew who she was.

“Coffee?” Joon asked.

“Yes, please.”

She followed him around the mats to the small kitchen, leaning against the counter while he filled the kettle with water.

It was tempting to touch the side of her neck, just to ensure that Antoine’s last feed didn’t still show.

But it had only been this morning—it would still be there.

She wondered if Joon had noticed, despite her hoodie.

His movements seemed stiffer than usual, and he carefully avoided meeting her eyes.

“I’m sorry I’ve missed two sessions,” she began. “I’ll pay of course, I—”

He waved her off. “I figured you had your reasons.”

Cally winced again. The laid-back response didn’t make this any easier. “I do, but… it’s complicated. Let’s wait until we’re sitting down, okay?” Un til they were alone, in other words.

“Sure.” Joon turned to inspect the class, watching in silence as they fell into their usual routines.

Then the door to the dojang opened, and two large men walked in. Seconds later, three more followed.

Oh no.

The students stopped, uncertain, looking to Joon before pulling away to the edges of the mats. Joon stepped forward, but Cally pushed past him.

“This domain is tranquil,” she called, crossing her mental fingers.

The nearest thrall sneered. “So you’re the one we want. Thanks for making it so easy.”

“These people are under my protection,” she said, ignoring Joon as he stared at her. “Hurt them, and Antoine will hunt you down. This is his territory.”

The door opened again. “Antoine has his own problems,” the newcomer drawled, voice dripping disdain.

“But if I were you, I’d be more concerned for yourself.

” He strode in like he owned the place, dressed in the same suit, his polished shoes making soft, deliberate impressions on Joon’s mats, red eyes gleaming.

Joon tensed beside her. “Who the hell are you?” He shot a glance at Cally, a question in his eyes, before narrowing his eyes at Minh, his jaw clenching. “You know what? I don’t care who you are. Get the hell out of my dojang.”

With a blur of movement, Minh was behind Joon before Cally could even track it. Joon didn’t see it at all, staring in disbelief as Minh seemed to vanish. He had no warning as Minh wrapped his arm around Joon’s neck and began to squeeze.

“No!” Her voice cracked, raw with the shock and inevitability of what would happen.

Joon reached up for Minh’s arm, bending his knees and tucking his chin—the textbook defense—but it relied on his opponent being human, and Minh was not.

The vampire didn’t even twitch, merely flexed his arm as he squeezed tighter, and Joon choked out a strangled breath.

The whole time, Minh watched Cally and smiled.

“Let him go, Minh. He’s nothing to you.”

“You’re right,” Minh said, snapping Joon’s neck with a jerk of his arm. Joon’s body slumped facedown onto his mats. “Nothing at all.”

A horrified gasp swept through the students, who immediately fell into ready stances .

One of the thralls waved his hand, and the five men fanned out aggressively. Another scream died on her lips, swallowed by the sickening realization that nothing she did could change this.

Minh’s brow furrowed in confusion, his eyes narrowing as he looked at her.

“Someone gave you resistance.” A second later, he was behind Cally.

She saw him coming, tried to spin out of the way, but Minh was too fast. His hand closed around her throat, yanking her back against him.

Behind them cries of “kihap!” were punctuated by dull thumps and muffled screams, but Cally couldn’t break Minh’s hold, let alone turn to see what was happening.

“Did the Outcast do this?” Minh said, his voice dripping with distaste. “Is it not enough that he’s marked you? Do you mean so much to him?”

The sounds of fighting quieted swiftly, a final cry cut off with the crunch of bone snapping.

“No,” Cally whimpered. Joon lay dead on the mats just feet away, a grim testament to what had happened five more times behind her.

“Oh really?” Minh said, misunderstanding her involuntary exclamation. “Someone else then?” He sniffed. “Ah. You smell of Gabriel.” He gave another disgusted noise. “No matter, he will be dead soon too.”

“My lord,” one of the thralls said from behind her. “Matteo’s thralls have become… unthralled.”

“What?” Minh spun to face the one who had spoken, turning Cally with him. Joon’s students lay scattered across the dojang like so many broken dolls, and she clenched her jaw, her horror giving way to anger.

“He has fallen, my lord.” The thrall who was speaking had his phone low in his hand and kept his eyes on the screen, as if in fear for the messages he was relaying.

“Did Matteo kill the Outcast?” Minh’s voice dropped dangerously low.

“No word, my lord.”

“Find. Out.” Minh bit off each word. “Bring me news, and kill his thralls.” His fingers closed on Cally’s neck, unhurriedly squeezing her throat, blocking her airway.

“Yes, my lord.”

Cally gasped silently, trying to draw a breath that wouldn’t come.

“You see what I have to deal with here?” Minh said in her ear, his tone conversational once more, like he was sharing a complaint by an office coffee machine.

Cally flapped one hand in the air, indicating she wanted to speak, and he eased his grip .

“It’s your thralls,” she said around a shuddering breath.

She was dead anyway, so what did it matter?

“They’re amateurs. Couldn’t even shoot straight on the interstate.

Antoine’s thralls were laughing at them.

I don’t know if it’s because you pick any imbecile you run across, or because Antoine and Gabe are so much more powerful, but—”

His fingers clenched around her throat again, cutting off her words with a gasp.

She wondered if she could heal a ripped-out windpipe, and how much it would hurt.

Then her thoughts filled with Antoine, and how he would die without her—if what Belle had said were true.

I’m sorry , she sent to him, wondering if he would ever know that had been her last thought.

She reached out for him through the mark, and it didn’t tug her toward Fisher Hill, but southeast. Was he heading toward Gabe’s place?

Maybe even expecting to meet her there? I’m sorry for not staying put. I had to warn Joon.

For what little good it had done.

“I see why Antoine treasures you,” Minh said, his fingers digging deeper. “Shame I won’t see his face when he learns I killed you.”

Cally tried to speak, to give him another reason to kill her quickly, but all that came out was a choked gasp.

“No, my lord,” said the thrall with the phone. “Matteo is dead. Apparently, the Outcast still lives.”

I could’ve told him that.

“ Fuck!” Minh yelled, throwing Cally away from him to sprawl across the mats, rolling onto one of Joon’s dead students. She scrambled back, clutching at her bruised throat. “How the hell did he kill Matteo and all his thralls?”

“I don’t know, my lord,” the hapless thrall stammered.

Without warning, Minh closed the gap to him, tearing his throat out with a savagery that made her wonder why her own was still intact.

“That was rhetorical,” Minh said, as the thrall collapsed at his feet, gasping for a breath that would never come.

Minh pulled a handkerchief from his breast pocket, wiping the thrall’s blood off his fingers.

He sniffed and waved at Cally. “Bring her. The Outcast will track her. He will come straight to the club.”

Two of the thralls bent to pull her to her feet, a hand gripping each of her arms.

Minh smiled, snakelike and creepy. “It seems I’ll still get to see your lover’s face while I kill you.”

Why does everyone always assume we’re sleeping together ?

“Then I’ll die knowing you’ll be on your way to hell the second I’m gone.”

Minh glared. “Bring her,” he said again, “and if she makes any more witty comments, rip her tongue out.”

“Yes, my lord.”

That’s fine. I can make them in my head. They were for my own amusement anyway.

Anger surged through Cally, dulling the fear as they dragged her toward the door of Joon’s dojang.

There she waited, held by two of the thralls, while others doused the mats and walls with gasoline.

She stared at Joon’s body, right up until they lit a rag and threw it into the room, then pulled her away.

Behind her, the flames caught swiftly, feeding on the dojang and feeding her anger. She might be powerless in this game, but if her blood made Antoine more powerful, then he could have as much of it as he wanted until all her enemies lay dead. Minh. The vampire who had killed her mother.

Hell, even their spawns and sires.

And, if she ever got the chance, she promised herself she’d work with Eve to rediscover the magic of witches. Belle had said witches hunted vampires in times past, and damn, but she could get behind that.

Flames licked at the windows of the dojang before they’d even reached Minh’s car. She stared at his back as she was dragged along behind him, and made herself another promise.

I won’t rest until you’re a greasy smear on the ground.