Page 34 of Vampire Runner

I curl my lips, thinking. I’ve avoided using magic directly with those who’ve come to me for aid, but no spelled tincture or medicine will help at this point. When Charity’s belly contracts again, the scent of fresh blood filling my nostrils, I make my decision.

Unlike my family’s magic, which requires strict structures and specific language to cast the spells, my magic is fluid. It comes from within me, keeping a balance between the natural world and the spiritual world. My magic guides me, and once more I cup Charity’s swollen belly in my hands. I fall into myself, seeking the center of my core where I’m most connected to my magic.

Ancient words in a dead language spill from my lips. I cannot say what was spoken, not understanding the language of earth and magic. My heart guides my intention, the intention creating the words. Magic thrums to life in my veins, a buzzing static building underneath my palms. The world around me disappears until all that remains is myself, Charity’s dimming soul, and the new soul of her babe.

The smell of blood intensifies, and I chant harder, more desperate. Someone cries out, and the magic pulsates between us in a spiritual trinity. Pressure builds and builds and builds, my head threatening to explode but still, I push on. I refuse to let this new family be torn apart by death.

My head snaps back, my eyes unseeing as I stare up heavenward. My throat is raw as the words are drawn from me in a shout.

Then, the building lightning storm between my palms is sucked away. The magic is gone, leaving a staggering vacuum in its place. I look down, in time to see the babe’s head. My hands are there, then, catching the babe as it slides without friction from Charity. The babe breaks the strained silence with a loud scream and there are no words for the joy and relief I feel. I bring the babe to Charity’s chest, the young woman watching in wonder. She’s crying now, cradling the little boy to her breast. Josephine, ever stalwart, is there, helping the new baby latch.

I step away, overcome with exhaustion. I lean against the bedroom wall, sliding down to the floor when my legs refuse to hold me.

The door bursts in. Johnathan is even more frantic than earlier, but when his eyes land on his wife and new baby, he’s transformed.

I blink, and when I open my eyes, I’m in Ashe’s arms as he carries me from the room.

Another blink and he’s setting me on the seat of the carriage, brushing the damp hair from my forehead.

Another blink and a snarl. It’s startling enough that I cling to consciousness. Ashe is staring down four men. They’re making holy symbols and shouting. My blood turns cold as I meet one of their gazes. There is death promised in those eyes.

“Witch,” he says and spits at the wagon.

Ashe says something, the coach launching into motion. Those damning gazes follow me into the dark of unconsciousness.

Chapter Eleven

CASSANDRA

My scream is captured in my throat as a massive hand curls around it and lifts me off the floor. My instincts were right. Something had been lying in wait for any would-be thieves. The creature turns me to face it, a beast’s snarl sending goosebumps rippling across my skin. The most primal part of me quakes in terror, knowing I’m in the claws of a dangerous predator.

I grasp its wrist, thoughts blanking out as I meet familiar red-tinted golden eyes. I’m becoming lightheaded, his grip too tight to allow even the smallest of breaths. A part of me rebels at who has me in his grip, while the logical part of me knows I’m not so lightheaded to be imagining things.

Aeternaphiel’s rumored guardian is a male I’ve considered one of my best friends, a chosen brother.

Ashe’s snarl tears through my confused, blank thoughts a moment before he slams into the half-demon, half-vampire.

Ezra releases me and I collapse on the floor, my hand going to my bruised throat. I blink back the tears burning my eyes, coughing as I try to gulp in desperate lungfuls of air. I’m still struck dumb, unable to do anything but watch Ashe fight a male who should be a brother. Ezra had been a Nightshade, and even though I wasn’t there when it happened, I know the demon vampire had been banished after taking the soul of a mortal.

Eris had tried to find him in the months following Ambrose’s declaration but could never find a trace of him.

This Ezra is nothing like the male I knew.

In place of Ezra’s easy smile is a savage baring of fangs; his once short black hair now reaches his shoulders in an unkempt mess of tangles. His striking face is gaunt and hollow, his cheekbones too prominent, his jaw too sharp. His skin is pale, pale enough to see the blue veins spiderwebbing underneath. He wears nothing except pants that are ragged and faded with age, the waistband hanging precariously from bony hips.

The ferocity that Ezra battles with against Ashe belies his emaciated appearance. His red-gold eyes have nearly no pupil, the black so small to almost be unseen. Even a human could tell Ezra isn’t right.

“Ezra!” I try to shout, wincing as my bruised throat protests. It comes out more as a croak, but neither vampire seems to notice. I push up off my knees and get to my feet, my dress tangling between my knees. “Ashe, something’s wrong with him!”

“No shit,” my mate snarls in response, grappling with Ezra. I don’t take offense to the sharp tone and take a step forward, as if to try to do something—anything to get them to separate. Ashe whips his head towards me, his golden eyes ringed thick with the red of rage. “Stay back!”

The warning cost my mate his advantage, and Ezra takes him to the floor with a resounding crash. There’s no way the guards didn’t hear that.

Goddess, I wish I’d insisted on getting one of those earpieces Ashe had. We need backup, but I’ve got no way to contact Malachi or Rhys.

I leap out of the way as Ashe rolls with Ezra, and I realize Ashe isn’t trying to kill the former Nightshade vampire. Ezra, though, isn’t holding back. He fights Ashe with a viciousness that terrifies me, a part of me afraid Ezra will kill my mate.

“Ezra, it’s me. Cassandra,” I call, forcing my voice louder. Pain laces my vocal cords, but I shove it aside. I have to get through to him. I have to. “You’re my brother. Please, snap out of it! Remember, Ez?”

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