He left the corpse in the middle of the road and took off on foot to find Dylan.
Dylan stumbled alongside her captor, the hard cold press of a gun’s muzzle jammed under her chin. She could hardly see where he was taking her, but somewhere, not very distant, rushing water roared like thunder.
And then gunfire.
“No!” she screamed, hearing the sharp blasts behind her in the dark. She felt a jab of pain and knew that Rio had been hit. But he was still breathing. Thank God, he was still alive. Still reaching out to her through the heat that coursed through her blood.
A cruel yank of her head brought Dylan back around. The vampire who held her forced her to run with him, up the narrow pavement and closer to the source of the falling water.
Before she knew it, they were heading onto a tall bridge. On one side, a reservoir spread out for what looked like miles, the dark water sparkling in the moonlight. And on the other side, a sheer drop from what looked like about two hundred feet.
The spillway below was white with the rush of water cascading over the graduated incline and the huge rocks that spread down into the churning river at its base. Dylan stared over the tall metal rail of the bridge, seeing a certain death in all that furious water.
“Dragos.”
Rio’s voice cut through the darkness on the entrance of the bridge.
“Let her go.”
Dylan’s captor jerked her to a halt on the bridge. He swung her around, the gun still biting into her jaw. His chuckle vibrated against her, low and malicious.
“Let her go? I don’t think so. Come and get her.” Rio took a step toward them and that cold nose of the gun at Dylan’s throat stuck even deeper. “Put down your weapon, warrior. She will die right here.”
Rio glared, amber flashing in his eyes. “I said let her go, damn it.”
“Put the gun down,” her assailant said. “Do it now. Or would you prefer to see me tear out her throat?”
Rio’s gaze went to Dylan’s. His jaw was tight, his tension visible even in the darkness. With a hissed oath, he slowly put his weapon on the ground and stood back up. “Okay,” he said carefully. “Now let’s finish this, you and I. Leave her out of it, Dragos. Or should I call you Gerard Starkn? Gordon Fasso, maybe?”
The vampire chuckled, clearly amused. “My little ruse has come to an end, has it? No matter. You’re about fifty years too late. I’ve been busy. What my father started by hiding the Ancient, I am finishing. While the Order has been chasing its ass, taking out Rogues like they were actually making a difference in the world, I’ve been sowing the seeds of the future. A great many seeds. Today you call me Dragos; soon the world will call me Master.”
Rio inched forward and Dylan’s captor turned the gun from its aim on her to Rio instead. Dylan felt the flex of the vampire’s muscles as he prepared to squeeze the trigger and she took the only chance she had. With a sharp jut of her hand, she knocked his arm and the bullet shot off into the trees.
She didn’t see the blow coming.
Her captor drew his other arm back and let his fist fly, connecting with the side of her head. She went careening, crashing hard onto the pavement.
“No!” Rio shouted.
With a speed and agility that still shocked her, he leapt into the air. Dragos returned the challenge, and with an otherworldly roar, the two powerful Breed males smashed into each other and locked into a fierce hand-to-hand combat.
Rio latched on to Dragos’s maniacal spawn in pure rage, the two of them thrashing in midair, each fighting for the chance to kill the other. With a bellow, the vampire spun Rio around and drove him into the metal rail of the bridge. Rio roared, flipping Dragos off him and sending the bastard into the opposite side of the narrow road atop the bridge.
He didn’t know how long the battle raged. Neither was willing to stop until the other was dead. Both vampires were fully transformed now, their fangs huge, the night lit up by the blare of two sets of amber eyes.
Somehow Dragos got loose and jumped up onto the railing. Rio followed him, finally driving the bastard down on one knee. Dragos wobbled, nearly losing his balance over the roar of the spillway below. Then he lunged, barreling headfirst into Rio’s midsection.
Rio felt his feet slip on the rail. He pitched sharply, then fell.
“Rio!” Dylan screamed from above on the bridge. “Oh, my God! No!”
Not even a half-second later, Dragos made the same error. But like Rio, he also managed to grab hold of the metal superstructure before the plunge took him down onto the rocks and rushing water.