Page 7 of The Incubus and the Bodyguard

Thank God I asked Yuliy to bulletproof that thing!

Kevlar gleamed inside the holes cratering the table’s surface.

Tarang’s snarl filled the air as he launched himself at the nearest attacker.

Marco gurgled. James cursed. The way the Italian and Chinese bodyguards recoiled told Vlad they could see the tiger too.

Giovanni and Wei Chen stared unblinkingly, unable to drag their gazes from the familiar who’d made himself visible so as to engage the enemy.

They’d heard rumors about the tiger too.

Tarang brought down one of the masked figures with devastating force, his fangs tearing the man’s jugular open like it was paper, the spray of hot blood painting his muzzle crimson. He batted another man with a powerful strike from his paw that sent him flying into a wall with the sound of breaking bones.

Some dozen more assailants came through the windows, their dark tactical gear absorbing what little light poured in from outside as they fired at theBlack Devilsmen trying to get the restaurant staff to safety.

Vlad clenched his jaw.Someone planned this!

“Boss!” Milo’s shout carried over the chaos.

Vlad’s head snapped around. His youngest bodyguard was trading shots with three masked attackers who had burst through the door, his face tight with concentration where he crouched behind a column.

Ilya grabbed two men running toward Vlad by the back of their heads and smashed their skulls together. He turned and shot another one point-blank in the eye.

The strange magic Vlad had sensed earlier grew stronger, making his stomach roil. Cortes joined him, the Colombian cursing viciously in Spanish as he brought an assailant down with his sword.

“There’s something seriously wrong with this magic, whatever the hell it is!” he barked.

The sorcerer’s whip cracked through the air and wrapped around another attacker’s throat. He yanked viciously. The man’s neck snapped with a wet crunch.

“Ilya! Get them out of here!” Vlad jerked his head at Giovanni and Wei Chen where they crouched behind the overturned table, their bodyguards forming a protective circle around them and their sons.

Ilya hesitated before nodding. He herded the crime bosses and their retinues toward the kitchen where theBlack Devilshad evacuated the staff.

A grunt had Vlad’s head swinging around.

Milo clutched his bleeding shoulder where he’d been shot, his gun hanging loosely in his limp grip. He clenched his jaw as two men aimed their weapons at him.

Vlad brought the bodyguard’s assailants down with the demonic spell he’d learned to cast from his father in Hell, the scarlet energy sphere evaporating flesh and bone as it tore through them and blasted a five-foot-wide hole in the wall.

The remaining men converged on him.

Vlad stood his ground and effortlessly blocked the shots whizzing toward him with his swords, the bullets pinging off the blades and clattering to the floor.

A roar left his throat as he lifted the lid on his powers.

Demonic magic detonated from him on a violent crimson wave that made the chandeliers tremble and his attackers falter. They flinched at the ferocious sound that issued from Tarang, the noise rattling the glass behind the bar.

Vlad and Tarang moved, his swords and his familiar’s fangs and claws finding easy targets as they flitted amidst their targets in a macabre dance of death. Cortes’s blade gleamed across the way as he opened an attacker from navel to sternum. Popo dive-bombed another man, his wings trailing golden light as he struck the guy in the eyes with his claws.

The hairs lifted on the back of Vlad’s neck. He ducked, narrowly missing the saber that would have decapitated him. He dropped and twisted as he kicked out. The masked figure who’d attacked him jumped, avoiding his attempt to swipe his legs out from under him.

Metal whistled close to Vlad’s face.

He leaned back sharply and raised his swords in a cross guard. Steel rang against diamond in a shower of sparks.

Vlad clenched his jaw.

This guy is good.

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