A Kiss of Blood(40)

Arturo reached back and squeezed her knee. "You need to test it, to learn what you can do. We'll work on that once you've gotten some sleep."

"She may get a chance to do that right now," Micah said quietly, his voice suddenly razor-sharp. "We've got company."

Quinn jerked upright, her gaze following Micah's. Indistinct shapes loomed on the hill ahead, in between the trees. Four of them. Men.

"Werewolves?" she asked.

"Rippers."

Adrenaline flooded her body all over again, washing away her exhaustion.

As they cleared the trees, she could see them more clearly. The four were on foot and looked like they'd just walked off the streets of D.C.-dressed in jeans, tees, and jackets.

"How do you know they're Rippers?" she asked.

"Look at their eyes," Arturo murmured.

She squinted, frowning. "They're red," she said with surprise. Red where the whites should be. "Does that mean they're hungry? Or are their eyes always like that?"

"The red presages violence. It means they intend to attack."

"Why? Can they tell I'm human?"

"No, we're too far. Their olfactory senses are sharper than an Emora's, but they are not that pronounced. No, they attack because they think they can. They outnumber us. And Rippers hate Emoras."

"We hunt them," Micah told her. "Hunting Rippers in D.C is one of my primary, and most satisfying, jobs for Gonzaga kovena. Not only are they monsters, but they're a danger to our race. They're careless with their human kills."

"Are these four trapped in Vamp City, now?"

"Probably. Any vampire-Emora or Ripper-who was here when the magic broke is trapped."

"Be prepared to grab the reins, Quinn," Arturo said quietly.

"You're leaving?"

"The moment the battle engages, take the horse and go. Call to your wolves for escort if you can."

She was glad he'd warned her because a moment later, the four Rippers disappeared in a blur. And then Arturo was gone and she was alone on the horse, sitting too far back.

The horse whinnied and sidestepped, and she grabbed the pommel. As the sound of snarls and the clank of steel erupted on either side of her, she struggled into the saddle, grabbed the reins, and inelegantly kicked the horse into gear.

But just as she thought she'd made her escape, movement ahead caught her eye. She saw the red first. And then the forms of more than half a dozen more Rippers as they stepped out from behind the trees. Holy hell. Several of them grinned, their fangs longer than Arturo's or Micah's, and sharper, their eyes as red as blood and cold with the promise of death.

The power beneath her flesh surged harder as her heart began to thud in her ears. If only she still had her stakes! Instead, she lifted her hand, attempting to channel that power. Aiming her palm at the middle Ripper, she willed him to fly backward.

To her amazed delight, he did, landing a good ten feet back with a shout of surprise.

She grinned, excitement sparking inside her. For the first time, she'd successfully called the power when she needed it. And without pain. This was going to be fun. But as she shifted her hand to aim at another, the Rippers blurred and were gone. Damn speedy vampires.

A heartbeat later, something slammed into her hard, knocking her off the horse and the knife out of her hand. She hit the ground back first in a blast of fiery pain. The breath left her body. Something landed on top of her.

Fangs sunk into her throat.

Shit, shit, shit.

Her mind went blank as instinct kicked in and she grabbed hold of the head latched onto her and . . . to her utter amazement . . . jerked it away. As if the vampire who'd attacked her was a seventy-pound weakling.

He stared at her, stunned. She slammed her palms against his shoulders and pushed him, hard, then stared wide-eyed when he flew back, landing on his butt by her feet.

Holy shit.

In a blur, he was standing over her, half-grinning, half-snarling. But not, she noticed, attacking. Not yet. Had she really just pushed him off her?

Quinn stared at him in shock, lifting one hand to the sticky wetness on her neck, aiming the other at him. He blurred to her right a good six feet. Quinn jumped to her own feet, rising far more easily than she'd expected to, and faced him.

He blurred, gripping her around the waist from behind, his fangs once more sinking into her shoulder. Lifting her knee, Quinn slammed her heel back into her opponent's and heard the incredibly satisfying sound of cracking bone.

The vampire released her with a roar. She spun, leading with her elbow, and knocked him flat. This was like some kind of dream.

She was freaking Buffy!

But just as she was beginning to think she might really be Superwoman, she was knocked to the ground again, this time by three vampires. And though she managed to temporarily dislodge one or the other, they just kept returning, two biting either side of her neck, one sinking his fangs into her upper thigh right through her jeans.

With fear tearing through her, and the knowledge that she only had moments to get them off before they drained her dry, the power beneath her flesh ran faster, harder. But though she pushed and bucked and willed her power to shove them away, nothing happened.

Her heart began to thunder in her ears. She wasn't helpless, dammit. She was not helpless. She had the power to save herself; she just had to find the way to call it.

Concentrate.

She imagined gathering that energy into a single, pulsing ball, then closed her eyes and focused all of her attention, feeling the power beneath her skin rush harder and swirl more violently.

One, two, three.

She imagined her energy ball exploding outward in a powerful blast.

The three vampires went flying.

For a second, relief made her boneless. She'd done it. But as she tried to rise, her body barely responded. As she struggled to sit up, the landscape spun around her. They'd taken too much of her blood. But she had to move. They'd be on her again any second, coming back to finish her off.

Battle exploded suddenly around her. She managed to stumble to her feet, but when she tried to take a step, her legs collapsed beneath her, and she went down hard. The next thing she knew, Arturo was holding her, talking to her, and the sounds of battle were gone.

"You are hurt, cara mia. They've torn your flesh." She opened her eyes as he lifted her onto his lap. "I'll take no blood, but I must bite you to initiate the healing." As her head fell against his shoulder, he dipped his head to her ravaged neck.

She felt cool fingers around her wrist and turned to find Micah lifting her wrist to his mouth. He watched her, his white-centered eyes dark with concern. Mike. Her friend.

"Did you kill them?" she asked, but she already knew the answer.

Neither vampire replied for a moment. Then Arturo lifted his face to meet her gaze, lines of worry bracketing his eyes.

"They are no more. I tried to reach you sooner, but there were more of them than we realized. I am sorry, tesoro."

Already she was beginning to feel a little better, a little stronger. "I'm not. I needed the practice."

Arturo tipped his head against hers. "I would prefer you practice with those who are not trying to kill you."

Quinn gave a soft sound of amusement. "Me, too. Though there's no denying that the threat of death helps me focus."

Arturo swept her into his arms and stood, then handed her to Micah while he mounted. Micah handed her back and swung onto his own horse. Arturo tucked her tight against his chest, and they headed back to Neo's.

"Wake up, carissima."

The soft words, the kiss to her head, burrowed deep and sweet, far more deeply than Quinn had let herself feel in a long, long time, and for a moment the emotion stung, like warm water on hands that had grown too cold.

She straightened groggily, still on the horse, pulling away slightly from Arturo's chest. "Where are we?"

"Neo's. Micah has gone for Zack."

Blinking, trying to force her eyes to stay open, Quinn glanced at the familiar house looming close. "I really slept."

"You needed to."

A few minutes later, Neo and Micah came out through the portico, Zack following close behind.

Arturo swung down, then lifted her off the horse, setting her on her feet.

"Are you steady?" he asked, watching her carefully.

She still felt half-asleep, but no longer light-headed with blood loss. "I'm good."

He nodded and joined the vampires as Zack loped over to her.

Her heart swelled at the sight of her brother, her rock. "How are you feeling?" she asked, as he joined her. She reached for him, feeling his forehead. Hotter than before. So damned hot. A small kernel formed just beneath her breastbone, a terror that the fever would take him suddenly, stealing his life. And she wouldn't be there. She wouldn't know until too late.

"I'm beat," he admitted, but he sounded excited. "Jason's been working my ass off."

"That's good." She supposed. She stroked his hair lightly, aching from the love she'd always felt for him. Realizing what she was doing, she snatched her hand away, afraid she might accidentally hurt him with her power.

He peered at her curiously. "Did you free your magic?"

"To some extent. I could use a tutor."

Amusement crinkled his eyes. "Like Dumbledore?"

"Or Merlin."

Zack smiled, his grin swift and bright. "Too bad you can't enroll at Hogwarts. You need to practice."

"I do. Until I get it under control, I can't stay here. I'm still throwing energy, pushing people back. And there are too many who could get hurt around here. Too many humans."