Page 66 of The Incubus and the Bodyguard

Santana’s face appeared above him, the crime lord’s expression distorted in a savage grin.

“I hear Hell is nice this time of year,” he said gleefully.

The saber rose, moonlight dancing along its deadly edge as it descended toward Vlad’s neck.

A knife flashed through the air and impaled Santana’s hand.

Santana cursed and jerked away, blood spraying from the wound. His weapon clattered to the floor. The dolls fell from his grip as he clutched his bleeding limb and whirled around.

“How about you get away from him?” Delphine’s voice was pure steel as she stepped into a patch of moonlight.

* * *

Delphine slippeda second blade from the sheath on her thigh while Santana hastily retrieved his saber. Her gaze darted to Vlad where he’d rolled onto his front and was hugging the ground. The incubus raised his head, his face ashen.

“Glad to see you’re okay,” he mumbled with a weak smile.

“You look terrible.”

Vlad laughed. “I’ve been better.” A violent coughing fit racked his body and made him groan.

Delphine clocked the bloodied, miniature voodoo dolls next to the incubus and glanced at Tarang’s shuddering form. An emotion she rarely felt and always managed to control swept through her like a storm then, breaking the dam of her iron self-control.

For once, she did not fight it.

Heat flushed through her, her fury focusing her every sense.

Santana’s face contorted with rage at the sight of his injured uncle lying on the ground behind Delphine.

“You’ll pay for that!” the crime lord snarled.

His blade flashed as he charged her, his speed and agility boosted by whatever magic his sorcerer uncle had weaved.

Delphine tracked the trajectory of his strike before he’d completed the motion. She twisted smoothly out of the way and danced lightly past his guard. The heel of her palm found his solar plexus at the same time she slashed a cut across his left temple.

Santana grunted and stumbled, blood streaming freely down the side of his face.

Delphine swooped in to attack. The saber sang past her skull.

She leaned back sharply, the edge missing her head by millimeters.

Delphine narrowed her eyes. “So, your uncle’s magic doesn’t just improve your fighting skills. It increases your pain threshold.”

Santana bared his teeth and came at her with a furious sound. His next attack took the form of a flurry of strikes that would have overwhelmed a normal opponent.

It was no match for the Immortal DNA and nanorobots flowing through her veins.

Delphine blocked and parried with her knife, her movements fluid and precise as she matched him blow for blow.

Fury and confusion warred in Santana’s eyes as he failed to land a single blow. He retreated a couple of steps and licked his lips.

“Who the hell are you?!”

A savage half-smile curved Delphine’s mouth. “Me?” She jerked her head toward Vlad. “I’m just his bodyguard.”

She feinted left, ducked under Santana’s guard, and rammed her knee into his gut. The crime lord doubled over with a wheeze. Her uppercut caught him in the jaw and sent him staggering back.

Delphine’s hand found her utility belt. She grabbed the dolls she’d taken from Manuel and the lighter she always carried.

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