Page 48 of To Save a Vampire
But it never does.
The thing cries out in pain and my eyes dart around until I see Ripper sinking his canines into the thin leg of the veil. The creature shrieks loudly into Ripper's face. Its snout-like jaw opens, baring its jagged teeth just inches from Ripper’s body. Phlegm and fluid coat the dog’s short fur, but he never releases his hold.
We take slow steps back, inch by inch. Asher’s hand presses me back toward the edge of the house. Our small steps go unnoticed with the distraction Ripper provides. When the side of the house comes into view, shadowed and dark, we run. My boots slide against the dirt to keep up the pace Asher is pushing me at. His arm never leaves my waist as we run. My gun is lowered, but I clutch it tightly in my hands. My mind is a mess of fear and anger and perseverance.
The incessant growling and shrieking continue for mere moments before the sound of a gun firing echoes around us.
I gasp and stop instantly at the realization of what Shaw might have done. My heart stumbles in my chest when Ripper whines slow and quiet.
From the other side of the house, the dog scurries off into the night as quickly as he came. My eyes desperately seek him out in the darkness; my heart beats frantically in my chest when I’m not able to find him. I focus on steadying my harsh breathing.I’ll find him. I will. As soon as this is all over I’ll find him.
My adamant chant is interrupted when Asher places his hand against my lower back, ushering me forward as the noise of the gunfire still echoes around us.
The tree line is about fifteen yards ahead of us. The trees offer us obscurity, a safe haven, and a hell all at once. What if there are more of them out there?
A veil crawls unnaturally fast on all fours in front of us, blocking our escape. Dirt and dust cloud around us as it scuttles to a stop. All four claws dig into the hard earth. Its unnaturally thin chest heaves visibly. It doesn’t stand, and it doesn’t hesitate the way the first one did.
It sniffs the air loudly, walking slowly toward us on all fours like a horrific, disfigured animal. Its limbs bend abnormally with each step.
The Crimson Sword cuts through the air under Asher’s strength as the creature gains more ground. It cries out as the blade tears through the flesh of its arm. Inky blood spurts from the wound, its arm almost entirely severed.
It wastes no time retaliating and flings itself at Asher with a mess of long arms and legs clawing through the air. Asher’s sword rises effortlessly to shield himself like an extension of his arm. He brings the blade down against the chest of the creature just as it sinks its claw into his shoulder.
The veil shudders for a breath, its signature shriek nothing more than rattled air through its thin gray lips. Asher’s face is pained, but he pushes the lifeless veil off the crystal sword. Inky blood drips down his arm and the sword, staining the dirt at his feet.
His chest heaves, and the shredded shirt reveals his bloody shoulder. It doesn’t appear to be healing like I’ve seen in the past. My eyes assess the wound with worry. I swallow hard, trying to process how to stop the bleeding, but there’s no time.
Asher winces, baring his teeth. The weight of the sword pulls at the torn flesh of his shoulder with every movement.
A veil rises behind him, and my heart leaps violently in my chest at the sight of it hovering over him.
I raise the gun without thinking, settling the heaviness of it between my palms before slowly pulling the trigger. The kick back of it pulses through my arms, but my feet stay planted as I discharge again, repeatedly.
Asher’s eyes grow wide as the bullets pass him, one after another. My eyes are unblinking as I hit my target each time in the chest. The thin creature fumbles back under the impact. Tiny holes drip thick blood down its torso before healing and sealing the bullets within itself.
Asher turns, whipping the blade through the air with him as he stalks toward the veil. Just as he’s about to slice open the creature, another attacks, barreling into Asher’s side. Soldiers follow a distance behind. The second veil drives Asher to the ground, its claw slicing into his cheek. Crimson blood washes over his face. The two creatures attack him in a dark, tangled mass of limbs and claws.
Asher’s sword scatters to the dirt a few feet from him. I clench my jaw in determination, but I’m not able to get a good aim on the veil as he pushes against them, turning and punching but gaining no ground. The gun’s useless with these creatures. Panic pulses through me. My hands tremble against the heavy gun as I realize I can’t guarantee my target or its demise, but I have to deter it if at all possible.
My breathing comes in heaves as I feel more and more inept in our current situation. And then it occurs to me that I’m just as capable of ruining Asher’s life as he is mine.
Focusing on the widest span of the veil’s thin figure, I fire my weapon. Confidence builds in my chest as I pull the trigger again and again. But the mortal bullets do nothing but anger the creatures as they sink into their skeletal back. The most I can hope for is a distraction.
The two creatures slowly rise off Asher, who lies in a heap of his own blood. He crawls on the ground, fumbling. My heart crashes and falls in my chest at the sight of his shredded skin and unsteady movements. The two veil look at me. I swallow the lump in my throat as I back away from them. They both screech at me, the noise high and painful in my ears.
I lower my gun, trying to find something of use against the immortal creatures standing before me. But there’s nothing. I improvise the only way I can. I turn the gun and strike the weapon hard into the closest veil’s face. The feeling of its hard skull against the weapon painfully reverberates through my hand. The noise of bone cracking fills the air. But the action leaves little effect on the monster. If anything, the gesture just irritated the creature.
My heart sinks as I realize my mistake. I can’t fight these things with mortal weapons. I lick my dry lips, trying to think quickly before I’m brought to my own death.
In a flash of red, someone stands between myself and the monsters.
Gabriel wields an entire tree in his hands. The limbs brush against the dirt as he sweeps the tree over his head, his hands releasing the thing with enough force to make the wide branches break against the ground. The trunk hits the two veil, flinging them hundreds of feet away into the darkness of the open lot.
The bandage that’s wrapped over Gabriel’s eyes dishevels his thick red hair. It covers his sight entirely, but he moves with careful assurance.
Gabriel quickly but unsteadily kneels at Asher’s side, tearing his own palm open with his teeth. Crimson blood spills into his palm, and then he presses his hand to the jagged claw marks on Asher’s shoulder, where the deepest wound appears to be. With all the blood, I can’t tell whether it’s healing or not, but I don’t have the time to let it worry me.
Two of the guards run up to us, giving us no time to celebrate our small victories. Gabriel tilts his bandaged head toward them from his spot where he’s kneeling next to his friend. He appears aloof and even offers them a polite but uncomfortable smirk before running after the veil, probably choosing to fight out of sight rather than have his chip detonate for helping the enemy.
