Page 67 of Stalk the Dark
Rage burned through me, aimed entirely at Ezekiel. I dropped into a crouch and drew the second dagger from my pocket.
“I just fought a hoard of sewer rats on an abandoned industrial estate. I think I can take five trussed-up vamps in a parlor. Bring it.”
A loud crack split the air, and the door flew off its hinges. The sandy-haired vamp ducked in time to avoid decapitation, much to my dismay, and the door slammed into the wall by the hearth, knocking china figurines and a landscape painting to the floor.
Ezekiel stood in the doorway, eyes burning like the fires of hell, nostrils flared as he took in the scene and every person in it. His chest heaved, once, twice, andthen he exhaled, eyes dimming to their regular golden hue.
He adjusted the cuffs of his midnight-blue jacket, his posture relaxed and unaffected. “There you are, Miss Lighthart. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” He held out his hand. “Shall we?”
The male vampires reared away from him, leaving a clear path between us, but the woman stubbornly stood her ground.
“Youhaveto share,” she said. “It’s etiquette.”
She sounded petulant and childish. Didn’t she see the feathering of his jaw or the way his mouth tightened? Didn’t she realize what she was dealing with?
“Eloise…don’t,” Dominic said. He must see it. Feel it. The danger simmering beneath Ezekiel’s cool façade. But Eloise, the fool, was none the wiser.
“She’s his companion,” Eloise continued, looking to the others for support, “and we get to taste. No matter who she is. It’s how it’s always been.”
Ezekiel tipped his head to the side as if considering her words. “Hmmm…and is itetiquetteto lure someone else’s companion into a room and attack them?”
“We were curious,” the sandy-haired guy said. “We wanted to see what a watcher looks like.”
“And now you’ve seen.” Ezekiel fixed his gaze on the woman. “Move.”
She had to be stupid because no one could be brave in the presence of the menace beating off him,but instead of moving aside, she blurred toward me. Before I could react, her hand was at my throat, her hot breath on my jugular.
The air moved, and a burn sliced across my skin. Something cracked, and I was scooped off the floor and enveloped in a cedarwood scent.
Ezekiel had me.
He had me in his arms, his golden gaze, now flecked with crimson, darting over my face. His dark hair was tucked behind his ears, accentuating the cruel beauty of his chiseled features.
Captivating.
One of the male vamps let out a howl of pain.
“You killed her!” another cried. “She’s a fledging. She won’t heal. You killed her.”
“Impeccable observational skills,” Ezekiel said, striding toward the door with me cradled in his arms.
I glanced back to see Eloise on the ground, her head at an impossible angle, but a moment later, my view was blocked by the male vamps, and in another beat, we were out in the corridor.
He took me in the opposite direction from where I’d come, deeper into the mansion.
“You, Miss Lighthart, are a troublemaker,” Ezekiel said, finally setting me down, only to push me up against the wall. “That’s two lives you’ve taken now.” He nudged my head to one side.
“What are you?—”
He slowly ran the flat of his tongue upthe column of my neck. My gasp left me breathless, breasts pressing against the cage of my corset, nipples hardening to peaks as heat pooled between my thighs.
It lasted barely five seconds but left me limp as a noodle and clinging to his shoulders.
He raised his head, the crimson rim around his irises glowing softly in the gloom. “You were bleeding where her fangs nicked you.” He licked his lips, his gaze dropping to mine. “You have no business smelling and tasting this good.”
I wanted to speak, but all that came out was a whimper.
He pressed himself against me, and shadows gathered around us, hiding us from the world. I could feel him, thick and hard against my abdomen, and when he gently gripped my throat and squeezed, my eyes fluttered closed.
