Page 32 of Blood Illusions

“You’re not going anywhere, beautiful.” His voice was low and menacing as he exposed rows of sharp teeth, his breath hot and sour on my face. Fear coursed through my veins as I realized what he was about to do. He was going to bite me, like all those poor victims up at the mine whose bodies had been drained of life, whose faces were frozen in terror.

I kicked wildly in the hopes of escaping, but he was too strong and kept me pinned against the doorframe.

“Looks like it’s your unlucky day, Dracula,” an angry voice rang out behind Justice.

Justice sneered and released me. A fatal mistake. Ignoring the pain radiating from my neck, I grabbed his shoulders and drove my knee into his abdomen.

He released a pained hiss.

In an instant, Damon came up behind him, pulling the vampire’s head back forcefully by his long hair. His eyes widened in terror at the glint of Damon’s machete as it sliced his throat, blood spraying across the walls and my beautiful white robe like droplets from a bursting dam.

Damon gritted his teeth. “I told you not to trust Dracula.”

Tears glistened in my eyes. Pain throbbed in my neck, and I couldn’t breathe.

“That’s not me,” a soft voice called from the doorway.

Justice had blood running down the side of his face and a bloody nose. His T-shirt was ripped.

I looked at the headless corpse, then back at Justice. They could have been twins. Same eye color, same long, dark hair, same beard. The only difference was the clothing. Justice wore a plain black T-shirt and jeans, while my attacker had an expensive three-piece suit.

The head rolled toward the body like a slow-motion bowling ball.

“Damon,” I croaked, my voice barely more than a whisper.

Without hesitation, Damon plunged the machete deep into its skull, killing it instantly.

At least, I hoped it was dead.

Damon marched toward Justice with long, purposeful strides. “You’re next, bloodsucker.”

Justice glared at him defiantly and didn’t move. He was either incredibly stupid or incredibly brave. He turned his gaze to the corpse. “That creature attacked me.”

“I don’t care,” Damon growled as he raised the machete above his head.

Justice reacted fast, his vampire speed propelling him across the room in an instant. He halted next to me, and I jumped.

Damon whirled, hatred burning in his eyes. “Get away from my sister.”

“I’m not the enemy.” Justice insisted, leaning against the wall as if his legs were about to give out.

My eyes widened with shock and confusion as I surveyed him. “What’s wrong with you?”

Justice gestured feebly with his hand. “He…he fed on me. That’s how he shifted into me.”

“I don’t fucking believe you,” Damon snarled as he prepared to bring the machete down again.

My head was spinning as I stared between the headless vampire and Justice. Vampires didn’t shift into other people. They could change into a bat or even a wolf but not take the form of another person. “Wait.” I held up a shaking hand. “Damon, stop. We need to figure this out.”

Damon was a steam roller, refusing to listen to reason.

I stepped in front of Justice, protecting him from Damon’s wrath, while I raised my chin in defiance. “I said stop.”

“You believe this asshole?” Damon spat. His machete glinted under the bedroom light.

I put my hand on his chest, feeling his racing heart against my palm. “I don’t know. But have you ever seen a vampire be able to shift into another person? Not even shifters can do that.”

Damon looked over my head at Justice, then lowered the machete. “What do you want to do?”

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