Page 12 of Dhampira

I lurched to the side.

He anticipated the movement and jerked his hand in the other direction. The cord whistled through the air and lashed my calf below the hem of my nightgown. Fire blazed bright and hot against my bare skin, wrenching a scream from my throat.

I darted as far away as the chain allowed. My fangs punched down. Smoke rose from my leg as the skin knit sluggishly back together.

“A thousand kromni!” a nobleman in the front called out.

“Two thousand!” another man shouted.

More offers quickly peppered the air. Cyprio smiled as a bidding war ensued.

The duchess lifted her binoculars and studied the dress. “Spread it out more, fool,” she said to Fark. He scowled but did as she said, fluffing the sleek skirt so it fanned over his legs, giving the appearance that he wore the gown.

A handsome nobleman with golden-blond hair and a pearl earring shaped like a teardrop raised his voice over the bidding. “Show us the girl, Cyprio!”

Eyes bright, Cyprio started toward me, the silver whip at the ready.

“It will be the last thing you do!” I shouted, baring my fangs.

He rolled his eyes. “Never heard that one before.” He let the whip fly.

I bolted to the right, but the chain wasn’t long enough. The silver cord wrapped around my hip, and I stumbled into the post.

“Five thousand kromni!”

“Ten thousand!”

“Twenty!”

Someone laughed. “You don’t have that kind of coin!”

“Yes, I do. I got it off your mother last night.”

More laughter, but I ignored it as I faced off with Cyprio. He balanced his weight on the balls of his feet, his eyes glittering. He was enjoying himself—the spectacle and the promise of money. My humiliation.

A growl rumbled in my throat.

His arm blurred as he swung the whip. It struck my calf right over the spot he hit the first time, reopening the wound and sending a fresh lick of fire over my skin. As I cried out, strong hands gripped my shoulders from behind, and Fark’s voice rasped in my ear.

“I’ve been waiting for this.” He groped at the front of my nightgown, preparing to rip it from me.

My growl broke free as I tipped my head down, then threw it back hard, connecting. I spun with his shocked cry still ringing in my ears. The collar gagged me, but it couldn’t dim the satisfaction that burst through me as Fark cupped his hand over his bleeding chin.

A whistling sound split the air. Fire slashed across my ankles.

Fark drew back his fist, murder in his eyes.

The man in black darted from out of nowhere and caught Fark’s wrist before he could swing.

“Hey!” Cyprio shouted behind me. “No patrons on stage!”

Fark tried to twist in the stranger’s grip, but the black-clad man was even taller than Fark. Glowing eyes flashed inside the dark cowl as the stranger forced Fark’s arm to the small of his back and then wrenched it up sharply. There was a sickening crunch, then Fark released a high-pitched scream. When the man in black shoved him away, he collapsed on the stage.

Cyprio charged forward, brandishing the whip.

The stranger snatched the cord from the air in a gloved hand. In one smooth movement, he yanked the whip from Cyprio’s grasp, drew it back, and lashed the peddler. The silver cord wrapped around Cyprio’s neck. His golden eyes sprang wide with shock as he crashed to his knees and clawed at the whip.

The man in black drew a velvet bag from somewhere and tossed it down. Coins spilled across the platform’s wooden planks. Over Fark’s whimpers and Cyprio’s choking, the stranger turned to the stunned nobles.