Page 62 of Dhampira

As Vander reached them, claws shot down his knuckles. He hovered behind the brawling trio, his knees bent and his body bouncing like he marked the rhythm of a dance. In a burst of movement, he threw himself into the melee. His claws flashed, and blood spurted from one of the wolves in a perfect arc. Red splattered the leaves, the sound like raindrops on a window, and a wolf’s paw thumped to the ground. With a high-pitched squeal, one of the wolves deserted the battle and fled. As it wove through the tree trunks, its fur swirled swiftly into flesh. In a blink, the werewolf sprinted on two legs, his pale buttocks flashing among the trees. He held his bleeding stump against his waist.

Vander shot to his feet and charged after him.

A man’s shout drew my attention back to Lorcan, who grappled with the first wolf on the ground. The wolf pinned Lorcan on his back, its paws on his shoulders as it snapped its jaws in the prince’s face. Lorcan turned his head at the last second, avoiding getting his nose ripped off.

I rose from my crouch, my fangs aching. If I struck the werewolf in the back, I could distract it long enough for Lorcan to recover. I needed a weapon—

Lorcan landed a vicious blow on the wolf’s snout. As the beast reeled, Lorcan roared.

Shockwaves distorted the air before slamming into me. The force knocked me backward, and I landed on my ass with a grunt. The werewolf twitched and jerked on the forest floor, its ears pinned back and its jaws open on a series of shrill yelps.

Lorcan jumped to his feet, grabbed the beast, and slammed it against a tree. Fangs bared, he seized the wolf by the throat. “Escorpu.”

The wolf shuddered. Then its body spun into bare skin and a wild halo of dark blond hair. A man panted against the tree, contempt blazing in his yellow eyes.

“Fuck off,” he rasped. “Fucking traitor, turning on your own people. You’re nothing but Rasimir’s lapdog.”

Lorcan buried his fist in the man’s gut. As the man wheezed, Lorcan leaned in and hissed in his face. “And you’re a dead dog.” He yanked the man’s head to the side and plunged his fangs deep.

The werewolf jerked, his lips stretched in a grimace. He clawed at Lorcan’s arms, but his blunt human nails were useless against the thick leather. Lorcan held him effortlessly, his dark head buried in the wolf’s neck as he feasted. In under a minute, the man’s features went slack and his eyes rolled back in his head.

Lorcan flung the werewolf’s body aside. He stood over it, his chest heaving as he appeared to catch his breath. Without warning, he swung around, his gaze locking onto me, seated at the base of the tree.

His eyes were solid black.

I shot to my feet. For one shivering second, we stared at each other. Then Lorcan stormed toward me.

“No!” Vander streaked across the clearing. Lorcan spun with bared fangs. The men clashed, fists flying. Lorcan was fast, but Vander was bigger and stronger. He backhanded Lorcan, sending him spinning around. Before Lorcan hit the ground, Vander caught his shoulder and yanked him close. Locking a thick arm around Lorcan’s chest, Vander pinned him from behind, both men now facing me. Lorcan snarled and snapped his fangs, straining to break free.

Straining to get to me.

Behind him, Vander caught my eye. “Come on!”

Shock rooted me in place. Vander wanted me to get closer?

“Hurry!” he bellowed.

The command in his voice jerked me forward. Grabbing at my skirts, I rushed over the leaves. Vander hauled Lorcan around and forced him through the trees. Lorcan’s hisses and growls drifted back as I followed the men. Vander had sheathed his claws, and I realized he didn’t truly want to hurt Lorcan. A dozen steps later, Vander stopped in another small clearing. As Lorcan continued lunging for me, Vander swept a quick look over the trees.

“Zid.”

Blue light zipped from one tree to the next, forming a glowing perimeter about three feet off the ground.

Lorcan’s onyx eyes bored into me as he fought Vander’s grip.

“Mesu,” Vander said.

And the forest vanished.

13

My jaw dropped as my gaze was drawn upward. Rows of arches surrounded us, a marble statue in each alcove. The rows spiraled several stories high, forming a curved wall that surrounded a vast garden. An enormous statue of a woman rose in the center. Breathtakingly lovely, she held a bowl large enough to fit all the residents of Derryton inside. Water spilled over the edges and filled a pool at her feet. Flowers and greenery floated in the water, which lapped against steps that appeared to lead into small temples at the base of the wall.

But for all the garden’s beauty, it was obviously a ruin. The stairs were cracked, the marble chipped and stained. In places, the greenery had run wild. Thick tangles dripped from the alcoves and climbed up the woman’s robes. Long tendrils spilled over the edges of her bowl. Crumbling stone benches ringed the grassy area where I stood. Shafts of sunlight sliced across the marble like arrows, bathing the towering wall of arches in gold. If the place had ever possessed a ceiling, it was lost to time.

“Stop fighting!” Vander growled.

His command jerked my attention back down. A short distance away, he wrestled with Lorcan on a marble walkway. Hissing, Lorcan swung at him. Vander dodged the blow, bent, and slung Lorcan over his shoulder with a meaty arm clamped around Lorcan’s thighs.