Page 13 of The Shadows of the Dawn

Nikola and Asher quirked around to peer out the back windshield. Sure enough, there was an unmarked black SUV hanging back, lights off. Nikola gave credit to Moss for having spotted the stealthy vehicle with their human vision, unless such a thing was better than Nikola could remember.

“Tch. Maybe they just headed in the same direction,” Asher mumbled despite the fact they were off the main roads, surrounded for miles by barren corn and green bean fields. Nikola’s jaw clenched against the uptick of anxiety.

“We are a gaggle of vampires which have been exposed to media in a stolen van—not sure if we should be so relaxed right now,” Moss deadpanned.

“Alright, good point,” Asher begrudgingly conceded. “So, what do we do? Pull off somewhere early and see if they stop?”

“That’s just asking for a fight,” Moss argued. Asher probably wanted exactly that, but they had a vulnerable mortal amongst them.

“We should lose them,” Kat advised.

There was a pause. Then Liam went, “Gun it?” Trish made a sound of protest.

“Gun it,” Nikola said over her.

Asher glanced over at him. Nikola was surprised at himself, too, but he was all too eager to get away from the possible threat. The minivan’s engine growled as viciously as it could as Liam floored the gas. Trish groaned, covering her face, and sinking into her seat.

The patterned flash of red and blue accompanied the onset of police sirens. “If we keep this shit up, they’ll call for back up, if they haven’t already,” Asher said.

“I am not pulling over,” Liam said, clutching the wheel so tightly it was on the verge of snapping. “They could have just tagged us as a stolen vehicle, not that we’re vampires.”

“They’ve been tailing us since your pissing contest,” Moss cut in. “Was I the only one who noticed that farmer’s residence within earshot? Shit, or it might’ve been when we stopped for gas.”

A bullet shattered through the back windshield, spiderwebbing the glass of the front. Asher ducked, grabbing Nikola down with him by the nape of his neck. “I don’t think this is about the fucking van!” Trish screamed. Nikola was inclined to believe her.

He went to peek over the seat to assess just how close the assaulting SUV was, ignoring Asher’s hiss of warning. He felt a second bullet whizzing past his ear, flicking strands of hair, before it landed home in the radio. The music was replaced by the chorus of vampires screaming.

“Ohio has a kill-on-sight ordinance, by the way!” Moss screeched.

“Couldn’t you have mentioned that earlier?” Asher boomed. Before the back-and-forth could ensue, another shot rang out.

“Fuck!” screamed the driver, letting go of the steering wheel to clutch his bleeding shoulder. The van swerved into the other lane. Trish lunged over the center console in an attempt to straighten their course but yanked too hard, overcorrecting in the opposite direction.

Every organ in Nikola’s body leaped into his chest as the world cartwheeled toward oblivion. Warping metal and shattering glass echoed between the cries. The sensation of freefalling ended abruptly as Nikola’s head slammed against the window. The fissures of his skull cracked, his ears roaring—though perhaps that was his own howls.

If he were human, Nikola Kingston would be dead.

But human he was not.

The carnage of the rolling car came to a halt. The dust settled. Nikola inhaled, if only to test the extent of the damage. No, not dead, but most certainly broken. His lungs filled, pressing against cracked ribs. His right arm crackled angrily, utterly immobile. His elbow, too, was shattered, then. And the gash in his skull nearly made him forget his own name and age, the universe a spinning, indistinguishable vortex of sound and color.

Around him, someone was crying—Trish?—and someone else was repeating a single syllable, as if chanting... chanting a name. Liam, crying out for Moss. Where is Asher?

As if answering his panic, Nikola registered hands on him, unclipping his buckle. “Conked your head hard, huh? Here.” Nikola felt the press of skin against his lips, a slit weeping blood. He wanted to grasp through the tunnel of confusion and find Asher but couldn’t pinpoint his own limbs. He did the only thing he could do and drank the elixir of life, having enough of his wits to know it’d speed up his supernatural healing.

Pain lacerated his body as it rapidly forced tissue to regrow, calcium to solidify. A white flare and a high-pitched ringing noise became his reality.

As bones mended, his senses came back to him, and he found himself unbuckled and—oh, the car had landed upside down. Asher had already crawled out, having caught Nikola before he could crumple, and dragged him through broken glass and rubble.

“Stay down,” Asher growled.

Gunfire. A Blood’s feral scream. The stench of blood, too much blood, mostly that of humans. Trish was cry-sobbing, “I can’t hold him, I can’t—Kat, help!”

Nikola blinked against the spinning world until it finally began to settle. Asher had him propped against the mangled car, kneeling in front of him protectively as he peeked over at the war zone Nikola couldn’t see. There was a gash across Asher’s brow, dribbling blood. Nikola went to reach to wipe the silver eye clean.

Asher caught his fingers and squeezed without averting his attention. The burning in Nikola’s ribs subsided enough to allow him to croak out, “What’s happening?”

Instead of answering, Asher’s eyes widened. Trish’s scream rang out, “Stop! That’s enough! He’s out, Lee!” A seismic wave of psychic energy rolled out in all directions. It slammed into Nikola hard, knocking the air from his battered lungs, despite the wall of the car.

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