Page 79 of The Vampire Kingpin
“Don’t let him take that off,” the guy to my left barked.
They grabbed my arms, pulling my hands away from my face.
That’s when it hit me—the silver was in the mask. The one DeeDee had made to match Lark’s, although Lark hadn’t liked hers, and had changed to another in the limo.
Lark.
Terror iced my gut. What if Lark had been right and DeeDee was the snitch, the person leaking intel to Darkman? And DeeDee knew what Lark was wearing. No wonder the snake had made Lark in the ballroom so quickly.
A surge of fear allowed me to throw the men off me. I tore the silver-laced mesh from my face and flung it away.
“Forget the mask,” the dude on my right snapped. “You take him down. I’ll drag him into the shadows.”
I broke into a run—or tried to. It felt like my feet belonged to someone else.
The other guy tackled me, slamming me to the marble floor. Pain radiated through me as I struggled to push him off. He pinned me down, his weight pressing me into the cold marble, the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth. My vision blurred again, but I grimly forced myself to focus.
I had to fight for Lark’s sake.
And where was Zaq? He’d sworn he’d have my back, and if I trusted any syndicate man, it was him.
Both vampires were on me now. I bucked against their holds.
I couldn’t lose Lark. Amina’s loss had been bad, but losing Lark would break me.
I had thirty seconds, tops, to break free before they pulled me into the shadows. I fought like a beast.
Without the silver sucking at my strength, I was stronger. I jerked free of first one, then the other, and went for my lucky dagger. But the poison slowed me enough that one of them grabbed me and got me in a chokehold before I could pull it from my vest.
He squeezed my windpipe like a boa constrictor, using his free hand against the forearm around my neck to apply a pressure that would’ve killed a human. Me, he couldn’t kill—not like this—but he could make me lose consciousness and then pull me into the shadows.
And he was winning…
A wave of dread swamped me. All I could think of was Lark and what that fucking princeling would do to her if I didn’t escape.
I slammed my elbow into his groin. He let out a vicious curse, but momentarily loosened his grip on me. Breaking out of the chokehold, I threw him off me and pushed myself up on my hands and knees, sucking oxygen.
I caught a flash of silver and threw myself to the side, scrabbling for my own weapon. An inhuman hiss, and then one of the vampires landed near my head, eyes glassy, a blade sticking out of his chest. From the corner of my eye, I saw the other fall to the floor. He’d been staked as well.
What the?—?
A hand landed on my back, and I snarled and swung around into a crouch, my dagger in my hand.
Zaq Kral stood over me. He lifted both hands in surrender. “Chill, man. It’s only me and Renata.”
He nodded at his mate, who’d pulled the blade from one of the men and was calmly wiping it off with a handful of cocktail napkins. I’d heard a rumor that Renata used to be a slayer but hadn’t believed it. Now, I believed.
“Lark,” I croaked, and dragged out my phone. It was dead, cracked almost in two from when I must’ve landed top of it. “No!”
I cursed, more afraid than I could ever remember being.
“You can’t track her?” Zaq said as Renata cleaned the second blade as well and handed it to Zaq.
I shook my head and surged to my feet. “No. But Velma can. Where’s Darkman?”
Renata’s lip curled. She tossed the bloody napkins on the smoking remains of my attackers and answered, “Dancing.”
“That was five or ten minutes ago,” said Zaq. “We followed you per the plan. But Velma and Monster have eyes on Lark, right?”
