Don’t worry. You’re about to be fed.
“Naya, look out!”
Ronan’s voice snapped out like a whip. She turned toward the sound, ducking moments before the creature’s giant claw swiped down at her. Son of a bitch. “Ungh!” The grunt left her chest as Naya swung her arm in a wide, sweeping arch. Power rippled through her as she funneled magic through the dagger and it severed the beast’s hand from its wrist. The appendage turned to charred dust and evaporated before it hit the ground. She was answered with an enraged snarl as the beast turned on her, its giant maw of a mouth opened wide and ready to bite. Her breath sawed in and out of her chest as Naya brought her gun around, aiming with her left hand as she fired off three more successive shots that did nothing to slow the creature down.
Shit.
From out of nowhere Ronan launched himself at the mapinguari, taking its massive bulk down in a full-body tackle. Punches rained down as he wrestled with it, his fangs bared and eyes alight with deadly silver. Good gods, he was magnificent. A warrior, built to deliver death. Powerful teeth snapped at him and Ronan grabbed it by the jaw, wrenching its mouth open with a shout; His body trembled with the effort until the hinges gave way and the beast’s jaw cracked.
“Get the hell out of here, Naya!”
The creature was disabled, but what Ronan didn’t realize was that there was no way to deliver upon it a physical death. It took magic to banish magic, and the only one of them who had a chance of defeating the demon was her.
A riot of sound assaulted her ears, the notes too sharp, too flat, disjointed and chaotic. Her vision further blurred and an acidic tang burned on the back of her tongue. If she didn’t banish the magic soon, it would steal her senses completely. She’d be blind, deaf, her limbs numb and useless. And she and Ronan would both be dead.
“Hold it down!” Her strength was no match for the thing they fought, but with Ronan helping her she could get the job done. Ronan faltered and the mapinguari hurled him from its body. He flew in a graceful arc, landing on his back with a groan that sent Naya’s heart toppling over her ribs to the soles of her feet.
Gods damn it.
She emptied three more rounds into the creature’s black, leathery skin, buying Ronan the time he needed to regroup.
His speed astounded her. His strength was unlike anything she’d ever witnessed. He was formidable, intimidating, and with every passing second Naya only wanted him more.
The creature’s inky black tongue lashed out at him, lacerating his biceps. Ronan didn’t so much as twitch as he pinned it to the ground. Every muscle in his body strained, the veins standing out on his forearms in stark relief. His brows drew sharply over his silver eyes and he ground out from between his gnashed teeth, “Now what?”
So entranced by the beauty of his movement, Naya shook herself from her reverie and sprang into action. The heat of the dagger warmed her palm. She straddled the creature’s body and stabbed down, straight through the heart. She twisted the blade at the same moment she sent a burst of her own power through the blade. Fiery heat licked up her arm and Naya cried out, but she gritted her teeth against the pain and drove the dagger deeper, cutting through the thick muscle to the center of the heart. Naya drew back on her power, funneling the corrupted magic out of the creature and into the dagger.
The transference of power blew Naya away from the disintegrating body with the force of an explosion. She braced herself for the landing that was no doubt going to result in a broken bone or two. Maybe ten. Time seemed to slow as she squeezed her eyes shut. The impact never came. Instead of crashing hard to the ground, she was jostled as she landed in the cradle of Ronan’s arms. What could have been a very painful touchdown was only going to result in a few bruises. She could see an advantage or two to keeping a vampire around.
Ronan held her close and tucked her against his chest. The dagger dropped from Naya’s grasp, falling to the ground as it sizzled with residual magic on the damp sand below. “Jesus Christ, are you okay?” He buried his face in her hair as he breathed the words. A light tremor vibrated through him into her and a sense of fear washed over her. His? He pulled back to look at her, his eyes still bright silver. “You do that sort of thing on a daily basis?”
“No. Not like that.” Her tongue felt too thick in her mouth and the words slurred on her lips. She’d never fought anything so fully manifested by magic. And never anything so big and powerful. Whatever magic had corrupted it was beyond anything she’d ever encountered. The dagger had taken the brunt of most of the residual malicious magic, but not all of it. Her skin crawled as though insects burrowed just beneath the surface, and a sense of perverse darkness speared through her in icy cold shards that left her shaking. She clutched at Ronan’s shirt, desperate for the warmth of his body as her vision darkened and the world careened around her.