Yvette's Haven
Page 66
“How did you do that?”
“I talked to it.”
“You didn’t say a word.”
“It heard me anyway.”
She watched as the dog paused at the door and peered outside into the chaos. The witch fended off her attackers with bolt after lightning bolt, but Yvette noticed how the bolts seemed to become shorter and less luminous, as if they carried less energy. Was she already weakening? Gabriel and two other vampires were fighting against her with throwing stars, sticks, and knives. Their handguns were nowhere to be seen.
Zane twisted in agony on the floor, yet even injured and barely able to sit up, he seemed to participate in the fight, launching throwing star after star toward the witch.
Go!
The dog followed her silent command.
Twenty-Three Zane pushed back the pain in his leg. One of the witch’s lightning bolts had shredded his thigh. It would heal eventually, but since he had no human blood to help along the process and certainly no time to fall into a restorative sleep, he might as well continue fighting.
His colleagues were doing a formidable job, pushing her back despite the loss of their handguns—their opponent had melted them right out of their hands. From what Zane could see, the witch was weakening, but not sufficient to deliver the coup de grâce. Only three vampires had made it into the room with him, one of them being Gabriel, but then the witch had erected another ward, making it impossible for more of his brethren to join the fight.
When he noticed a movement, his head snapped toward the open doorway where he’d seen Yvette. Automatically, his hand went to his last throwing star. He’d make this one count. His action arrested in his shoulder as he noticed the dog gingerly walk toward him.
Shit! He’d almost killed the poor animal.
Zane’s night vision zoomed in on the dog’s collar. The vial still hung on it untouched. Yvette had clearly understood that it was no use unleashing the potion behind the wards. How she’d made sure the dog had come back out into the chaos, he didn’t care.
The animal put paw in front of paw to approach him. Too slow for Zane’s liking, but not wanting to scare the dog away, he kept as still as he could, at the same time keeping an eye on the fighting to prevent any stray lightning bolts from hitting him.
“Come here, doggie,” he cooed and hoped nobody could hear him over the grunts and shouts that filled the room. He’d never survive the embarrassment.
For whatever reason, the dog closed in on him, its eyes locked with Zane’s as if it was trying to communicate. When the beast was close enough to touch, Zane reached out his hand, slowly, without haste as not to make it change its mind. When his hands connected with the dog’s fur, he stroked over it, and the dog closed the distance between them.
Zane felt for the collar and pried the vial off it.
A lightning bolt charged toward the dog’s head and without thinking, Zane threw himself over the animal, flatting it against the floor. The heat of the bolt passed over his head, close enough to singe his hair had he had any left.
The animal beneath him whimpered. “Shh, boy, it’s good.”
Zane’s fingers tightened around the vial as he lifted himself off the dog and twisted his upper body toward the witch. For an instant, he saw her eyes connect with the object in his hand. A flash of fear crossed her features as she seemed to recognize its significance.
Zane’s arm pulled back, ready to toss the vial at her feet so the potion in it would be released, when a lightning bolt blinded him briefly. When he blinked, the witch was gone.
Not a second later, more vampires stormed into the room, the ward that had held them outside suddenly gone. They crowded into the room, armed to the teeth, yelling their battle cries, yet there was nobody left to fight.
“Yvette!” Zane shouted toward the open door. He could scent her now with the ward being gone too. But there was still a lingering scent of witch in the air, and he didn’t like it. Had Francine come in with the other vamps?
He scanned the group, but Francine wasn’t among them. Yet, the residual scent of witch was stronger now. Were his senses tricking him because adrenaline wasn’t flowing as freely in his veins as during the fight? He grimaced in agony as the pain in his leg intensified.
“Thank God!” Yvette’s relieved voice made him snap his head back to the room where she’d been kept. She rushed out, her eyes instantly taking in the situation. Relief spread in her face until she noticed Zane lying on the floor.
“Ah, shit, Zane!” She ran toward him and crouched down.
“You okay?” he pressed out through clenched teeth, trying not to cry out when she put her hand on his injured thigh, trying to assess the severity of the wound.
“I talked to it.”
“You didn’t say a word.”
“It heard me anyway.”
She watched as the dog paused at the door and peered outside into the chaos. The witch fended off her attackers with bolt after lightning bolt, but Yvette noticed how the bolts seemed to become shorter and less luminous, as if they carried less energy. Was she already weakening? Gabriel and two other vampires were fighting against her with throwing stars, sticks, and knives. Their handguns were nowhere to be seen.
Zane twisted in agony on the floor, yet even injured and barely able to sit up, he seemed to participate in the fight, launching throwing star after star toward the witch.
Go!
The dog followed her silent command.
Twenty-Three Zane pushed back the pain in his leg. One of the witch’s lightning bolts had shredded his thigh. It would heal eventually, but since he had no human blood to help along the process and certainly no time to fall into a restorative sleep, he might as well continue fighting.
His colleagues were doing a formidable job, pushing her back despite the loss of their handguns—their opponent had melted them right out of their hands. From what Zane could see, the witch was weakening, but not sufficient to deliver the coup de grâce. Only three vampires had made it into the room with him, one of them being Gabriel, but then the witch had erected another ward, making it impossible for more of his brethren to join the fight.
When he noticed a movement, his head snapped toward the open doorway where he’d seen Yvette. Automatically, his hand went to his last throwing star. He’d make this one count. His action arrested in his shoulder as he noticed the dog gingerly walk toward him.
Shit! He’d almost killed the poor animal.
Zane’s night vision zoomed in on the dog’s collar. The vial still hung on it untouched. Yvette had clearly understood that it was no use unleashing the potion behind the wards. How she’d made sure the dog had come back out into the chaos, he didn’t care.
The animal put paw in front of paw to approach him. Too slow for Zane’s liking, but not wanting to scare the dog away, he kept as still as he could, at the same time keeping an eye on the fighting to prevent any stray lightning bolts from hitting him.
“Come here, doggie,” he cooed and hoped nobody could hear him over the grunts and shouts that filled the room. He’d never survive the embarrassment.
For whatever reason, the dog closed in on him, its eyes locked with Zane’s as if it was trying to communicate. When the beast was close enough to touch, Zane reached out his hand, slowly, without haste as not to make it change its mind. When his hands connected with the dog’s fur, he stroked over it, and the dog closed the distance between them.
Zane felt for the collar and pried the vial off it.
A lightning bolt charged toward the dog’s head and without thinking, Zane threw himself over the animal, flatting it against the floor. The heat of the bolt passed over his head, close enough to singe his hair had he had any left.
The animal beneath him whimpered. “Shh, boy, it’s good.”
Zane’s fingers tightened around the vial as he lifted himself off the dog and twisted his upper body toward the witch. For an instant, he saw her eyes connect with the object in his hand. A flash of fear crossed her features as she seemed to recognize its significance.
Zane’s arm pulled back, ready to toss the vial at her feet so the potion in it would be released, when a lightning bolt blinded him briefly. When he blinked, the witch was gone.
Not a second later, more vampires stormed into the room, the ward that had held them outside suddenly gone. They crowded into the room, armed to the teeth, yelling their battle cries, yet there was nobody left to fight.
“Yvette!” Zane shouted toward the open door. He could scent her now with the ward being gone too. But there was still a lingering scent of witch in the air, and he didn’t like it. Had Francine come in with the other vamps?
He scanned the group, but Francine wasn’t among them. Yet, the residual scent of witch was stronger now. Were his senses tricking him because adrenaline wasn’t flowing as freely in his veins as during the fight? He grimaced in agony as the pain in his leg intensified.
“Thank God!” Yvette’s relieved voice made him snap his head back to the room where she’d been kept. She rushed out, her eyes instantly taking in the situation. Relief spread in her face until she noticed Zane lying on the floor.
“Ah, shit, Zane!” She ran toward him and crouched down.
“You okay?” he pressed out through clenched teeth, trying not to cry out when she put her hand on his injured thigh, trying to assess the severity of the wound.
