“Kisten, stop!” I shouted, then leapt to the side when the fourth vampire smashed into the pool table beside me. He hit it hard, his eyes going blank and his limbs spread-eagle for a breathless moment until he slid to hit the pavement.
I turned to Kisten, my heart pounding. I wanted it to stop, but he was out of control and I was afraid to interfere. His face was twisted and ugly. His motions were sharp and aggressive. And when Sam came at him with the same look, I could do nothing.
Grunting, Sam spun, his hair flaring as he smashed a roundhouse into Kisten’s head.
Kisten stumbled back, a hand coming up to touch the blood leaking from a cut under his eye. As if not feeling it, he took a back kick, then another, each one moving him closer to me.
The third one, Kisten caught. Sam’s face went still, and with a savage smile, Kisten wrenched his ankle. Sam cried out in anger to drop back in a controlled fall and keep Kisten from snapping it. Kisten moved to follow up with a deathblow, and Sam spun on his back for momentum, flinging his unhurt foot at Kisten’s knee in a sweep.
Kisten went down, his foot knocked out from under him. I reached out, then gasped when two of the other vampires he had previously downed fell on him. Grunts of pain and silent thuds of fists into flesh turned my stomach as they attacked Kisten. One vampire, Kisten could hold his own against, but two? It had turned into a mauling.
Sam staggered to his feet, wiping a ribbon of blood from his chin. “Get him up,” he breathed heavily, and Jenks got in my way, stopping me from interfering. Frustrated, I jerked back. This was enough. He’d had enough!
But when Sam looked at me and pointed for me to stay, I did, frightened by the dark depth of hatred in him. “Don’t worry, chicky witch,” he said, breathing heavy. “We’re almost done. Piscary gave him to someone else to kill, or he’d be dead already.”
He laughed then, chilling me to my soul. He knew who it was. He knew who Piscary had given Kisten to. I wondered if it was whoever had summoned Al to arrange the entire con to get Piscary out of jail. “Who is it!” I shouted, but he only laughed harder.
Using the support of my car, the vampire with the broken arm and the one stunned by hitting the pool table struggled to drag Kisten upright. Blood leaked from Kisten’s mouth, and there was a cut under his eye, which was swollen almost closed. His blond hair glinted in the sunlight as his head hung. Sam limped closer, grabbing his hair and jerking his head up.
Kisten squinted to see him. Anger simmered in him still, and Sam smiled tauntingly. “Thought you were such a bad-ass,” he said, then punched him in the gut.
I lurched forward as Kisten sagged, almost pulling down the vampires who held him. “You’re nothing!” Sam shouted, furious. “You never were! Everything was Piscary!”
Balance bobbling, Sam punched him again, and Kisten groaned.
“That’s enough!” I shouted, ignored, and Jenks’s wings hummed.
The angry vampire wiped the blood from his nose, marking Kisten’s hair when he yanked his head up again. Kisten’s eyes were shut, and I could see the breath passing his bloodied lip and his chest moving as he breathed. “You were never anything, Felps. Remember that when you die. You were nothing alive, and you’ll be less when you’re dead.”
“I said that’s enough!” I shouted, hearing the wail of distant sirens.
Sam glanced at me and smiled to show his teeth. “Come see me when you need a little something, chicky witch. I’d love to give it to you.”
I took a breath to tell him to shove it, but the two vampires let Kisten go, and he slid down the side of my car. Balancing to keep the weight off his broken ankle, Sam leaned toward Kisten. Kisten jerked, and horror hit me when Sam straightened with the diamond stud earring from Kisten’s ear.
“Piscary says you’re going to be dead twice by sunup,” Sam said, head tilted as he put the earring in his own lobe. “He doesn’t think you’ve got the guts to see it through and redeem yourself. Says you’ve gone soft. Me? I think you never had it in you to be undead.”
The other two vampires started to hobble away, and after giving Kisten a last look, Sam headed after them, leaving the last of them to stare at the sun.
Kisten barely moved, curling in on himself. Pulse fast, I went to him. This had been stupid. God! How stupid could men be? Beating each other up had done a helluva lot of good. “Kisten,” I said, kneeling beside him. I glanced behind me at the road, wondering why no one had stopped. Kisten was a mess, his head hanging, bleeding all over from scrapes and contusions. His expensive slacks were scuffed, and his silk shirt was torn. Fingers fumbling, I got my pain amulet off my neck and around his, hearing him take a clean breath when I tucked it behind his shirt and it connected with his skin.