Page 45 of Nightmares and Numerology

I could only watch, wide-eyed, as Andrea’s mouth unhinged like a snake’s and a gray, jelly-like tongue plunged down, thrusting deep into my chest.

Chapter Twenty

Angelo

The oil led us straight to a barely maintained building I recognized by reputation, not sight.

I avoided the feeling-laden parties common here like the plague. It made sense for the enemy we faced, though. It was dimly lit, remote, and unlikely to be well-traveled. Andrea could squat here for days at a time, eating her meal in peace, with no one the wiser.

Which was exactly what she was doing when I burst through the door, the rest of Lydia’s would-be rescuers fanning out in a line behind me.

We all stopped. We all stared.

For a second that seemed to last an eternity, I could only gawk at the tableau before me. It looked like something out of a horror movie. No, scratch that. Most of the people I hung out with belonged in horror flicks. This was the prelude to a supernatural snuff film, complete with a blood-bursting, soul-sucking fiend looming over the woman I...

Loved.

Hell below, it sounded completely absurd, but it was the truth. I did love her. Maybe it was the mating bond. Maybe it was something about the other creatures attached to her soul. I didn’t care. I wanted Lydia in my life, and there was no way I was going to let an overgrown bat with slippery entrails eat my mate.

Before I could lunge forward and rip the ugly, crouched figure off Lydia’s chest, I was knocked to the side by a large, well-muscled shape. The blow sent me spinning in the opposite direction, an alarming ringing sound coming from that side. I caught myself on the support beam before the hit could knock me entirely on my ass, but the force of the blow left me gasping. Blood ran in a thin stream down one side of my face, soaking myshirt. It didn’t take long to figure out why.

Vin stood only a few paces away, a metal chair held aloft. It was no nut shot, but I could tell he’d enjoyed taking back a little of his own on me. But there was something he seemed to have forgotten about this whole thing.

I was stronger than he was. I always had been.

Superior build and superior pheromones. He’d always lived in my shadow. He was attractive and successful enough that he intimidated mundanes and lesser monsters. But I wasn’t a lesser demon. I wasn’t a woman alone, comparatively helpless in the face of a predator. I was a motherfucking demon, just as he was, and he’d pissed me the fuck off.

I kicked him. Hard. In the face.

It sent him staggering back the way he’d come, spitting blood and a rain of teeth. It bubbled over his lips and splattered down his thousand-dollar suit, adding insult to injury. I used the distraction to advance on him, plucking the chair from his flailing fingers. I broke one, just because it felt good to hear his bones snap and his throat close around a scream.

Lydia’s scream drew my eyes back to the fight. Andrea had plastered her body to Lydia’s front, squishing the bunched entrails and her long, slick tongue between them. It made a stomach-turning squelch, and I was helpless to do much while Andrea’s teeth rested so close to Lydia’s throat. Sure, she didn’t need the vestigial fangs to feed, but they worked as well as a knife. She didn’t have to blow Lydia sky high to kill her. A severed artery worked just as well.

It was disturbing to look at Andrea. There was enough smooth, unblemished flesh on display to make any mundane man stop and stare. She hadn’t bothered to cover her top half after separating from the bottom, leaving her breasts bare. It might have been interesting to see Lydia pressed so tightly to another woman if that other woman’s tongue hadn’t snaked itsway where it shouldn’t be. I could smell the rich tang of iron from her direction. Lydia was bleeding, and the stuff bubbling out had begun to stain the manananggal’s front, fusing to her ashy gray skin, all life automatically sapped on contact.

Vin tried to crawl toward her, crying out when a boot came down on his wrist and the blade he’d produced from somewhere on his person. I followed the shoe up to its owner and found a sour-faced Anthony pinning my downed cousin, a crossbow aimed firmly at his temple. The tip of the bolt was stained with something dark and viscous—probably poison from our home dimension. Even if Vin didn’t expire from a headshot, he’d die slowly later. No matter what he took from human women, it wouldn’t be enough to sustain him forever. He’d starve to death. In my opinion, taking the bolt and praying for death was faster and less painful.

“Don’t move,” Anthony said, his free hand curling into a fist.

There wasn’t enough aura of power to be visible, but I sensed the magic in Anthony all the same. He didn’t have to be a warlock throwing blood bolts. At this distance, magic was like a gun. It didn’t have to be large-caliber to ruin someone’s day. I could finally see the realization of that play across Vin’s face as he stared up at Anthony. For once in his spoiled life, he realized he wasn’t above consequences. It would have been a satisfying moment to witness if Lydia hadn’t bucked, nearly unseating Andrea.

Andrea slid a little and dug her nails into Lydia’s arms to anchor herself in place. Blood welled in the deep crescents, and an answering snarl built in my throat. I wanted to tear her head off. But Taliyah had it covered. The manananggal stilled immediately when the barrel of Taliyah’s service pistol pressed to the side of her head.

“Stop whatever you’re doing, right now,” Taliyah said, her voice admirably level, but I saw the flinching around her eyes.The screams would haunt her too. “Withdraw your…” Taliyah paused, seeming a little flustered before finishing with, “tongue and step away from Ms. Morton.”

The throaty chuckle that escaped Andrea was the sort of sound you heard in the bedroom, not a pitched battle. The bat wings, tattered ears, and ichor-stained bare skin clashed so violently with Andrea’s lazy, sensual laugh that it made me feel ill.

“Your bullets can’t kill me, your highness.”

Andrea added that last bit with a mad cackle. Her eyes gleamed with a similarly manic energy as she twisted toward the gun. She didn’t reach for it, as I expected. Even if she couldn’t be killed by a jacketed round, getting shot would still hurt. I’d been shot before. It ranked up there as one of the most painful experiences I’d endured.

Andrea’s gaze swept the room, taking in the gaggle of witches, a stern-faced faerie police officer, a monster hunter, and a pissed-off demon that had formed a loose circle around her. It wasn’t a favorable position for any monster, but even less so for this murderous bitch. It almost made one grateful for Hollows in general. They weren’t always successful, but their premise was sound. We were stronger and better off when we banded together against threats, instead of waiting for them to pick us off one by one.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Taliyah said flatly. “But I don’t have to shoot you to kill you, Andrea. I just have to wait. You still have a vampire’s weakness. If you remain separated from your legs, you’ll burn up when the sun rises, isn’t that right?”

Andrea didn’t respond, but the rapid, nervous flick of her batlike ears was answer enough. When she licked her lips, it was with a portion of that rubbery appendage that moved. I didn’t remember having it stuck in me, but I couldn’t imagine it felt pleasant. From the soft whimpers coming from Lydia’s throat, ithurt when the deed was done to a conscious person.

“What guarantee do I have that you won’t kill me the second I step away from your friend?”

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