She lifted the back of her hand and pressed it to his mouth.
His eyes locked on hers as he gave her a long, sensual lick. Then he was kissing her again, his tongue tracing the wound on her lip.
“The shedding of your blood is my fault,” he whispered. “Forgive me.”
“I’d shed more than this to keep you with me.”
William’s eyes blazed, and he kissed her again, all restraint giving way.
Raven responded, moving her tongue in concert with his.
Suddenly, she was on the ground, and he stood over her, sword in hand.
An arrow whizzed toward him, and he caught it in mid-air, flipping it around and throwing it like a javelin.
The arrow struck the archer in the abdomen. He fell down dead.
“An old one! Quick!” the leader of the hunters shouted in English.
The others closed ranks, abandoning their skirmishes to focus on the new prize. The surviving vampyres, with the exception of Borek, fled into the trees.
The commander gave the hunters a wide berth before approaching Raven from the side.
The Prince glanced at Borek and snarled. “Touch her and I shall kill you.”
The commander bowed. “I swore to the new prince to protect her and deliver her to Rome.”
The Prince’s gaze returned to the hunters. “There is only one prince. She stays with me.”
Borek stood still, sword drawn.
“Lay down your weapons, and I’ll spare you.” The Prince addressed the hunters, his voice echoing across the clearing.#p#分页标题#e#
The leader of the hunters laughed. “You may be an old one. But we are twenty. And we are all armed.”
“Are you certain of your numbers?” William remained focused on the leader. “I count less. Perhaps your mathematical abilities are as lacking as your judgment.”
“There is only way this will end—with your head on a stick and your blood in a bag.” The hunter held out a relic, smiling.
Borek flinched and began to shake. He took two steps back.
“This is your final warning.” William lifted his sword, and the blade shone in the firelight, as the building behind the hunters continued to blaze.
“Shoot him.” The hunter lifted his hand, and the archers took aim.
Before a single arrow could be released, William closed the distance between him and his attackers and beheaded the leader. His body was a black blur as he raced from hunter to hunter, plunging his sword in their abdomens, withdrawing, and moving to the next victim.
Holy water and salt fell like rain over him, but he barely reacted, too busy knocking relics and garrotes out of the hunter’s hands before ending them.
In less than five minutes, the hunters were destroyed, their bodies scattered.
It was a massacre.
Borek swore an oath. “Impossible.”
Raven looked up at the commander. For the first time, she saw fear etched on his face.
William wiped his sword on the coat of one of the fallen men and tossed the garment aside. He strode toward Borek with purpose.
The commander retreated.
The Prince stopped once Raven was behind him, but he didn’t lower his sword. “Machiavelli is dead. Florence is mine once again, as is the woman.”
The soldier dropped to one knee, placing his sword in front of him. “Commander Borek, my lord, at your service.”
“Commander Borek,” the Prince repeated. “Your soldiers have deserted you, while you risked death to stay with your charge.”
The Prince extended his hand to Raven, lifting her to her feet. “Has this one touched you?”
“No.”
“How has he treated you?”
“He forced Stefan to examine Cara when he refused. He gave me a dagger for protection and told me to conceal it from the others. I used it on the hunter. It bought me time.”
“Shall I kill him?”
Borek’s dark eyes sought Raven’s.
She shook her head. “No. The others would have thrown us to the hunters, but he protected us.” She scanned the clearing, her heart racing. “Where’s Cara?”
“She can’t have gone far. I scented her on my approach.” The Prince returned his attention to the commander. “Where is the other human?”
“With one of my detachment. He was told to flee south. We should be able to overtake them.”
William gazed at Borek appraisingly. “Your bravery and attention to my pet has earned you your life. If you serve me well, you’ll earn the right to return to Florence. If you don’t, I’ll kill you.”
Borek bowed. “Yes, my lord.”
“You may stand.”
Borek stood, still gazing uneasily at the Prince.
“Where is Stefan of Montréal?”
“I don’t know, my lord.” Borek’s sharp eyes took stock of the bodies scattered nearby. “I don’t see his corpse.”