A couple strolled past her, hand in hand. Lavinia kept her head down and sighed. Her stomach clenched from the odd combination of hunger and apprehension. Damn her short legs.
It was a mistake to make a right turn into the small dark space between two buildings. She knew it the second her booted foot stepped in a slick puddle of grime and glittering red eyes from the shadows snapped their full attention to her. A cold wind whipped her hair as she swiveled to the side to press back against the brick wall. Leaves and debris tumbled over the pavement, blown helter-skelter and swirling against her legs. She ignored the sensation. Now was not the time to lose focus.
This wasn’t how she wanted her night to end. Yet it wasn’t a complete surprise, either, since paranormal creatures had been flocking to her since her spell book accident.
And now there were three such creatures separating from the blackness, solidifying into shapes before her eyes. Once upon a time, she would have screamed and panicked. Both were natural reactions.
That night, she merely groaned and stifled a sliver of anxiety. Tried to remember what Pike had told her about balancing her stance. She was going to have to kick a little ass to save her own. Didn’t it figure? They never listened when she said she was a simple clerk.
“What do you punks want?” She asked the question with all the bravado of a bullfighter.
It was another piece of advice from the man of her visions: If you couldn’t feel tough, then act it. Fake it. It was better to sound intimidating than crawl into a little ball and hide, which was her preferred method of dealing with less-than-welcome supernatural stalkers.
The closest ghoul opened his mouth to answer, but Lavinia beat him to it. “Let me guess. You want my blood, my soul, or my liver. Judging from the graveyard dirt on your pants, I’m going to say liver.”
Her nerve endings bristled a warning before the three of them moved into attack mode. Another danger. Another mess-up on her long list of mess-ups. She couldn’t claim to be new at this gig. The accident happened eight years ago and she’d had plenty of time and opportunity to get it right and get her priorities in line. Mainly, her safety.
The three ghouls smelled…off. It wasn’t necessarily a bad smell, just off. These were freshly risen, just out of the ground. She’d guess there was a necromancer on the loose but that wasn’t her problem. His pets, however, were.
This wasn’t her first encounter with ghouls and it probably wouldn’t be her last. The way her life had been going lately, every step she took turned out to be wrong. Not just wrong but hazardous. These ghouls were another hurdle she’d have to jump over, before one of those fools bit off a leg.
Though she was now technically immortal—a side effect of the spell book mishap—Lavinia’s body and constitution were weak. She was hopeless at fighting and tried to stay out of the worst scuffles. Most of the time that meant staying at home to avoid a fracas.
“I have a great idea.” Her voice shook even as she tried to maintain an intimidating tone. There was no time to run. Any sudden move and those ghouls would be on her. They may not look like much, but when they had a mark they moved like a pack of lions circling for the kill.
“How about we all just go our separate ways? It’s obvious the person I’m looking for isn’t here. Pike? Pike?” She craned her head then clapped her hands together and took a step back. “Nope, he’s definitely not here. I’ll bid you all a good night—”
The first one charged at her without warning. Lavinia reacted on instinct and kicked him hard enough to send him spinning off into the other two. Her victory was short-lived. Hackles rising and an uneasy feeling flipping in her gut, she watched the ghouls recover with a snap of all three heads in her direction.
“Come on.” Her taunt was half-hearted. “I can…take you.”
Ghoul Number 3 slunk to the right while his two comrades roared and charged. Lavinia sidestepped the first, only to be caught by the second one. He threw her against the side of a garbage bin, leaning over her with frenzied eyes. There was no more humanity there. Ghouls, the risen dead, were nothing more than vessels raised by a warlock or necromancer for one purpose. Mayhem. Bedlam. A thorn in her side when all she wanted was to act normal.
The force of a knee to her abdomen sent her against the wall of the closest building. Her face shoved against the brick before she dropped to the ground.
What was it Pike had said about widening her stance? She needed to keep her legs hip-width apart, her arms out in front of her, and pretend she had eyes on the back and sides of her head.
Lavinia couldn’t even stand. She choked in a breath. “You guys are good,” she managed.
Ghoul 2 grabbed her by the scruff of her neck, her hair tangling between his knuckles. Lavinia screeched when he hauled her into the air. She reached above her head to pry herself loose, fighting against the wave of searing pain radiating down her spine. The ghoul leaned close and let out of a gust of fetid air from its rotting mouth. Then threw her down.
Instead of bouncing and rolling into a crouch the way Pike had instructed her to do at least a dozen times, Lavinia just…dropped. Splatted would be a better term. She landed on her side and the air left her lungs.
Her lips opened for another comeback, only to find she couldn’t get her mouth to work. She tried to scream for help. She’d bitten her lip on the fall.
“Dammit,” she choked out.
Ghoul 1 took her by the ankle, swinging her around toward the garbage bin again. Lavinia scrunched her eyes shut and prepared for immediate contact. But instead of slamming into metal, she collided with leather. Warm, living leather. Or at least the man who was wearing the leather was alive.
She assumed he was alive. Part of her wasn’t quite convinced.
“Love, you need to stop going out alone. What have I told you?” Pike asked in a gruff tone. His arms came around her shoulders and drew her close. “This is the third time this year. Which only just began, may I add. I’m not always going to be around to save you.”
Thank. God. Those were the two words circling in her head on a loop.
“Now, you sit here while I kick some ass. Can you do that for me? Lavinia?”
The man was well over six feet tall, wearing a jacket that had seen better days. She drank him in as he helped her into the small space between the bin and the wall. An Adonis.