Chapter 22
Anthony
Gabriela and Garrett clawed ferociously at each other. Garrett was a beast, a creature of naked fury, but Gabriela was giving as good as she got, a look of prime disinterest on her face. Her blasé ferocity made Anthony squirm. Was she bored by all this?
“She’s very old, and very, very strong.” Freddie had sensed his confusion. “Not much can touch her. Stay out of her line of sight.”
In the far corner of the room, Lillian and Rose had flanked Charles, who stood flat against the wall like a cornered cobra, reared and waiting to strike.
Freddie lifted Anthony’s chair by the leg and smashed it. Left with a jagged piece of wood in his hand, he picked away at the end with inhuman speed, extending his claws and sharpening it to a point. He handed the newly made stake to Anthony.
“If worst comes to worst, use this. Aim for the heart.”
“Freddie…”
A sharp cry came from Rose. Three claw marks ran across her face. They were weeping blood. She had gotten too close to Charles. Although she was in pain, she quickly recovered, growling at her attacker and shifting to keep him in his place.
“They need my help,” Freddie whispered into Anthony’s ear. “Don’t underestimate Charles and Gabriela. Don’t draw attention to yourself. Stay back, and only use the stake in self-defense.”
Anthony nodded, not trusting himself to say anything. Freddie hugged Anthony hard, then turned to enter the fray.
Garrett was terrifying, a whirlwind of fangs and claws, but Gabriela was flowing around him, wielding a long, thin steel stiletto. She gave as good as she got, the wounds she inflicted biting deep into Garrett’s flesh. Anthony wondered that she didn’t use her own claws in fighting, but she was an expert in her weapon. Evenly matched, they were a blur of motion to Anthony’s human sight.
Charles was still, his eyes glaring out in petty defiance from atop his cravat. The defensive position suited him. He lashed out when either Rose or Lillian got close, but otherwise stood like a statue, peering out at his enemies.
As Freddie reached them, Rose and Lillian made eye contact and attacked together. In one quick movement, faster than would seem possible, Charles grabbed each by the throat and hurled them against the opposite walls. Anthony heard the crunching of bones as the twin vampires hit, sliding to the floor. Both were still moving, but they were hurting.
Anthony backed away from the action, staying equidistant from the two fights. He grasped the sharpened chair leg tight in his hands. His instincts screamed he would never survive a fight with any of them, but his heart raced. He wished desperately to help Freddie. His eyes darted back and forth, keeping track of all the fighting.
He would never forgive himself if Freddie died rescuing him.
Freddie did not allow Charles to keep him at a distance, barreling in and grappling him, but the Azarian coven master was deceptively strong for someone with his slender frame. They locked together, straining with effort. Freddie growled like a jungle cat. Charles’ eyes betrayed a flash of fear, but in a second it was gone, hidden behind his arrogant mask.
Gabriela and Garrett continued to give one for one. Both of them were tiring, their movements growing slower. As she whirled around, evading one of Garrett’s claw strikes, she caught Anthony’s gaze and raised her eyebrow.
“It didn’t have to be like this, querida. Now all of you have to die.”
The statement cost her, as her split concentration allowed Garrett to slash deep into her side. She flinched. It was the first time she’d shown any emotion during the fight.
Anthony berated himself. Freddie had told Anthony to avoid being noticed by her. His back to the wall, he inched away from her and Garrett, but could only go so far without getting pulled into the other brawl.
Freddie forced Charles out a few feet, and they strained against each other, their arms locked together. They both bled where their fingertips touched skin. Their claws had dug into the other’s flesh.
Anthony flinched at the brutality of the fight. Freddie had dragged Charles from his defensive position, but he wasn’t doing well. Charles hissed and lunged, trying to tear out Freddie’s throat with his fangs. Freddie kept him at bay, but barely. Given time, Charles would overcome him. Azarian was fueled by some kind of perverted need for blood that Freddie couldn’t match.
Then the moment came. The two vampires rotated as they struggled with each other. Charles’ back was bare to Anthony. He lunged once again for Freddie, grazing his throat. Anthony saw a trickle of blood run down Freddie’s long neck.
A red mist appeared in front of his eyes, and suddenly it was as if the spirit of some ancient beast had inhabited Anthony. He was in motion before he could stop himself. With a strength he’d never known, he plunged the wooden stake into Charles Azarian’s back.
The squeal was painful, so loud that Anthony collapsed down to his knees, clutching his ears. The scream cowed whatever power had taken Anthony over. As it died down, he looked up to see Charles seizing on the ground, blood flowing from his wound.
Anthony locked eyes with Freddie, smiling. Although he was bent over, and bleeding from dozens of lacerations, Freddie smiled back.
The smile turned into a scream of fear, as something pierced Anthony’s torso. There was a horrible burning in his gut, like someone had impaled him on a hot poker. He looked down to see Gabriela’s stiletto knife buried in his stomach.
The last thing he saw as everything faded was Freddie flying across the room, claws outstretched, desperate to end Gabriela’s life.
The last thing he heard was Freddie’s anguished scream.