Page 16 of The Baritone's Rival

There wasn’t time to think as the two remaining vampires attacked.

Chapter 5

Trent

Trent hadn’t intended to eavesdrop on the attack. He’d been trapped in his own head as he turned the corner, brainstorming ways to get out of singing with Oscar. He knew it was useless, but he couldn’t stop coming up with new plans. The latest involved transferring schools.

At first, Trent thought it was a mugging, but listening in, it was clearly more than that. When the fangs and claws came out, he put the pieces together.

Of course, Oscar was a vampire.Of coursehe was. The blasé attitude? The total lack of concern for others? That comes when you don’t have to worry if you’ll be able to eat. Or if you’ll grow old and die.

Vampires were inherently selfish beings, even the ones who weren’t killers. Trent should know. That’s why there was a moment, the tiniest second, where he considered walking away. But then they attacked Oscar.

When he saw the muscular vamp’s fat fingers wrapped around Oscar’s neck, something inside him snapped. It was as though a feral animal caged within him had broken through its bars, howling. This disgusting monster wasn’t allowed to touchhisOscar.

His Oscar?Where the hell did that come from?

Thankfully, Trent’s training kicked in and his mind went blank. He pulled out a wooden stake from the front pocket of his backpack—he always had one on him—and ran toward the big vampire’s exposed back. Trent drove the weapon through the skin and flesh, between two ribs, and pierced his heart.

Trent hadn’t lostallof his conditioning. The sound of wood cutting through meat was very satisfying. The musclebound vampire went down fast, his now-lifeless head smacking hard against the rough pavement.

Oscar’s eyes widened when he saw Trent, but he had no time to deal with Oscar’s surprise. The two other vamps lunged for him, their claws still dripping red with his classmate’s blood. The fear and rage on their faces telegraphed their inexperience. They had little control. The one he’d killed had been holding them together.

And god were they poorly dressed.

Trent pulled out the knife he had hidden in his waistband, spinning and slashing at the air in front of him to keep the two away. They growled at him, and when the one on the right reached out to claw at him, he sliced across the underside of their forearm.

The vamp hissed and snatched their arm back. Trent made eye contact with Oscar, who was standing stock-still. What the hell was wrong with him?

“Want to help me out?” Trent shouted. Oscar was as useless at fighting as he was at everything else.

The other vamp swiped at Trent. He jumped to the side,almostavoiding its claw, the tips of the vampire’s fingernails slicing open stripes on his torso. It hurt like a motherfucker, but thank god it hadn’t gone any deeper.

Trent couldn’t stop the grunt of pain that burst from his lips. Even as sun-weakened and blood-starved as the vampiresclearly were, Trent was human and breakable. At Trent’s outburst, Oscar was shaken from his paralysis. Faster than Trent’s eyes could track, he slid between Trent and the two vamps, both of whom recoiled at his sudden presence.

“Stay.”Oscar’s voice vibrated with the strength of his Compel, and the two attackers went as still as statues. Trent was impressed. Few vampires wielded that kind of power.

“You will answer my questions.”The two struggled to break the command, but despite their muscles straining against the hold, their bodies betrayed them. A drop of sweat trickled down the temple of the vamp on the left.

“Is Elliott really alive?” Oscar’s voice was tinged with fear as he asked the question. Trent had never heard him sound like that. He wasn’t a fan.

“Yes,” the one on the left said, the word forcing its way through their clenched teeth.

“Is he in charge of your coven? Group? Whatever it is that you are?” Oscar kept his hand raised, two fingers up, as he interrogated them.

“He is coven master…”

Oscar’s eyes narrowed. “Where is your covenhouse?”

The vampires struggled harder now, their faces twitching as they fought the compulsion. They didnotwant to reveal that. The two began to shake, falling to the concrete and flopping around like fish out of water.

“Where is your covenhouse?”

One of the vamps, finally giving in, whispered a single word.

“It’s—”

With that, the other vamp, the one who’d managed to keep quiet, broke free and extended their claws. With a swift, razor-sharp swipe, they cut clean through the other one’s neck. The head of the gaunt betrayer tumbled down, hitting the path with a dull thud.

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