Page 43 of Vanish Into Light

His nostrils flared as he sighed, and faced Lance again. “Don’t drink anymore, anddon’tgo making out with hellspawn.”

“I made out with you, didn’t I?” Lance bit back, before he could think better of it.

Rose breathed a quiet laugh at his side.

Beck frowned. “That’s entirely different.” He reached and placed two fingertips to Lance’s forehead, and energy moved through him like a whipcrack – a sizzling, nearly-painful burst that died as soon as it had begun. Afterward, he felt much less foggy.

And very, very ashamed of himself.

Oh, shit, what had he done?

His gaze skittered toward Damien – hauling himself upright, a hand at his throat – and he wanted to vomit. He’d let that thing lead him off by himself; let it ply him with drink and then kiss him.

When he was revolted by him.

When he was nothing like Beck.

“Pull it together, Lieutenant,” Beck said, crisply, and then released him.

The feeling of clarity stayed – along with this awful, unwanted knowledge that with Beck before him, and Rose beside him, was exactly where he was supposed to be.

Beck lifted his head, and scanned the bar. “Where are the others?”

~*~

Rose heard the screaming the moment they passed through the double doors, and she pulled her knife. Beside her, Lance seemed mostly himself again, and murmured, “Shit, that’s Gavin.”

The people spread out on the couches, divans, and beds either didn’t hear the screams, or didn’t care; they kept kissing, touching, fucking, moaning and heedless of the pained, terrified screams that echoed from the back left corner of the vast space.

She took off at a run, Lance right beside her. Beck launched himself into the air with a kick and a few hard thrusts of his wings. They dodged around a bed loaded with five people, vaulted an empty bench. Went around three mock walls.

Rose heard Tris mutter “fucking shit” as they rounded the last corner, and she allowed herself only the barest pause to get her bearings before she dove into the tableau.

Gavin lay on his back on a round bed with red silk sheets. One woman sat astride him, and another knelt by his head; both had their mouths fastened to his throat, one on either side, and the little trickles of crimson leaking down the side of his neck proved exactly what they were doing. Both had tails, and the tips of both had been driven into Gavin’s torso, where blood was rapidly darkening the front of his jacket. He’d stopped screaming – was instead waxen, and panting, and whimpering like a wounded animal.

“You dumbass,” Tris barked, and grabbed at the woman seated on his hips.

She lifted her head, lightning-fast, lips wet with blood, red-stained fangs bared in a hiss. She swiped at him, and though they were painted red, Rose knew that she bore claws, and not regular fingernails; knew that they were sharp and could cut.

Tris caught her wrist, and tried to pull her off of Gavin – but was instead thrown clear by one powerful flex of the woman’s arm. He landed on his shoulder and skidded over the polished concrete floor.

Cursing, Gallo closed in on her, clearly having learned nothing from his lover’s mistake.

Rose switched her knife to the other hand, and sprang up onto the bed behind the other woman. Caught a fistful of her hair – felt the stubby horn hidden beneath its teased and sprayed volume – and yanked her head back; pressed the edge of the knife to her throat.

“Let go of him,” she said, to both of them.

The first glanced up at her, ignoring Gallo’s approach, and laughed, blood pearling at the corners of her mouth. “Aw, that’s cute.” She made to lunge for Rose–

And got smacked in the face by the edge of Beck’s wing as he landed between them, straddling Gavin’s twitching body.

She shouted with outrage – and then fear, when she glanced up at Beck, holding her reddening cheek.

“I wouldn’t try it again,honey,” Beck purred, making a mockery of the pet name he had used with nothing but sincerity around Rose. “Get your tail out of my soldier and get lost.”

She hesitated.

The woman Rose held reached up and grabbed at her wrist – only to shriek when she impaled her palm on Rose’s silver-spiked cuff.

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