Standing up, feeling a bit pleased with himself, Seamus suddenly realized there was a second guy. And he was holding Kelsey in his meaty, tattooed arms. Shit. This night was officially a complete and total frickin' disaster.
"Let her go," he said with a sigh, wondering why he was wasting his breath.
"No. She's coming with me." And to prove his point, the guy dragged Kelsey backward with him, her legs dangling off the ground, her dress rolling up her thighs and giving Seamus a flash of her red panties.
It was that indignity, that callous treatment of a woman, that made Seamus very angry. Kelsey may be annoying, and she might giggle too much, but she was a human being—okay, an immortal vampire—and she deserved respect. Seamus rushed the guy, and at the last second flew up over his head, and slammed him from behind at the base of the skull with his fist.
The guy stumbled forward, groaning, losing his grip on Kelsey, who hit the dirt.
It was then that Seamus realized Ugly was back on his feet.
And there was a third one. One who was thin and moved with stealth, peeling himself out of the shadows of the building and stepping forward. When he locked eyes with him, Seamus also saw an intelligence in his face that was lacking in the other two.
Well, this was fun.
He couldn't call for assistance because Ethan would hear him. There was no way Seamus would risk the vampire president getting involved in a back-alley fight with rogue vampires. It would be bad press. Seriously bad press.
"Cut his head off," the thin one said, handing a really big nine-inch knife to Ugly.
Let's not and say we did
. Seamus gauged how much room he had to maneuver. He was going to guess his flying skills were superior to these two. And despite his leadership role, Seamus sensed the thin one was a young vamp.
Which didn't explain why the guy was able to say, "Come here, Kelsey," walk down the alley toward the street, and actually have Kelsey follow him.
She just stumbled to her feet, fixed her dress, and trotted off after him without one glance in Seamus's direction. So much for loyalty.
This is what he got for his chivalry. His head cut off. That was ironic. It was the guillotine that had almost killed him the first time and changed the course of his vampire life. Now he was about to die the same way.
And he realized that probably no one would mourn him except Ethan.
If these guys didn't kill him, he might just kill
himself
the thought was so damn depressing.
Ringo knew Kelsey was following him, so he walked quickly until he got to the doorway of a closed souvenir shop. Then he turned, took her hand, and pulled her into the darkness with him.
"You're alive." It was a statement, not a question, and he took in her dark eyes, thick black hair, and vibrant red lips, the only splash of color against her alabaster skin. The cleavage-popping dress didn't surprise him. The expression on her face did. Gone was the flirtatious smile, the ditzy wide eyes.
She looked afraid. "Who are you?" she whispered. "Why won't you just leave me alone?"
Letting go of her hand, he rubbed his chin. This was a twist. She didn't remember him. Just as well. He hadn't realized his target was Kelsey.
Get Fox and his girlfriend
, he'd been told. And he always obeyed orders. If he didn't, his blood supply would be cut off.
It was a job Ringo had understood as a mortal human, and one he did well as a vampire. Hired killer.
But the last time he had seen Kelsey, he had tried to protect her, had watched her get mowed down by a spray of bullets, had seen her die. But that was before he'd been turned to vampire, before he had understood who he was dealing with. Kelsey was clearly a vampire now, too. Maybe she always had been one, though it was a surprise she didn't recognize him.
"You know who I am, Kelsey." He opened his mind to her. She'd been able to read him before, with a clarity that had bugged the hell out of him when he was mortal. He wasn't sure why he let her in now. Why he wanted her to acknowledge that she remembered him.
Maybe because Kelsey was the last shaky link to his mortality. The only person who had known him when he was a man, before the blood lust, and before he'd become Donatelli's fucking minion.
"You're here to kill me," she said, stepping back onto the sidewalk, the streetlight casting a bright glow over her bare shoulders.
"No." He had been. But he couldn't kill Kelsey now that he knew it was her. He'd kill Seamus Fox without a second thought, but he wouldn't kill Kelsey. She represented the last time he'd done something compassionate. He may have been a human until the month before, but he'd lost his humanity years before that. Except for one brief moment when he had actually risked himself to save Kelsey.
She was shaking, her teeth rattling, and her arms wrapped tightly around her middle. He had no sense of recognition from her, just fear.
"Jesus, what the hell did they do to you?" Ringo wasn't any good at mind reading, didn't like picking through people's thoughts, but he tried to probe Kelsey and got nothing but waves of panic. The Kelsey he'd known hadn't ever been afraid. She had been ditzy, annoying, confident. It made his very vivid and cruel imagination wonder what Donatelli had done to her after his men had shot her.
Instead of answering, she crumpled to the sidewalk in a faint, startling the crap out of him so completely that he never even moved to catch her.
"What the fuck!" Did women still faint? The only time he'd seen someone drop like that was when his ex-girlfriend had tripled her diet pill dosage.
Ringo approached Kelsey. She hadn't passed out gracefully. A breast had popped out of her tiny dress and her face was hanging over into the gutter. Her shoe was half off and he had a clear view of some pale inner thighs and red underwear.
He couldn't leave her there like that.
Why did this shit always happen to him? Kicking a garbage can in annoyance, he sent it shooting thirty feet across the street and through a store window. The crash of the shattering glass made him feel better. Lifting her into his arms, Ringo wished he could fly as he started walking.
She stirred long enough to ask, "Where are you taking me?"
He was probably taking them both to hell. But he just said, "Home. I'm taking you home, Kelsey."
Cara couldn't even imagine why she had thought it was a good idea to go out into the alley wearing jeans, flip-flops, and a short satin robe. No bra. No cell phone. No purse.
She had lost her everlovin' mind, and if she hadn't been drinking bottled water only all night, she would swear she'd been drugged. It was the only explanation for why she was crouched in a corner watching Seamus Fox—if that was really his name— brawling with two fat guys in bad outfits.
And they weren't just fighting. They were doing some freaky shit. At first it had looked like normal punches but then Seamus had gone all
Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon
, doing moves that looked humanly impossible. He was like a blur in a black T-shirt, and at one point, she could absolutely swear he had actually risen vertically in the air.
She was too scared to move, afraid they might see her if she tried to sneak back in the door. Clearly even though Seamus was outnumbered, she wasn't going to be of any assistance to him. Her major talents in life were dancing naked and animal care. Somehow she didn't think doing a hip rock or clipping his nails would help Seamus at the moment. It would be best to leave them to their beating the crap out of each other thing, but Cara had retreated too far from the door to go back in without being seen.
Cara
? Seamus called to her, shattering her illusion that she hadn't been spotted.
Not to mention she was almost certain he hadn't spoken out loud, just in her head. She licked her lips nervously.
What
? she whispered tentatively, her lips moving automatically even if no sound came out.
Go back in the club, beautiful.
She fell back on her butt, startled that she could hear him so clearly in her head. Yet he wasn't even looking at her. He was slamming one of the big guys into the brick wall.
I'm serious. They want to kill me. Get back inside.
It seemed like a good plan. Get back inside away from big, hairy men throwing punches. But for some reason her legs weren't moving. Leaving Seamus all alone just didn't seem right. She bit her fingernail nervously. If she ran toward the door, she could call 911 and get Seamus help. That would be the smartest thing to do.
She stood up, hugging the wall, staying in the shadows as she inched toward the door.
Right then Seamus leaped six feet in the air in the most unbelievable move Cara had ever seen and kicked one of the guys in the back of the head. It should have dropped the big dude to the ground, but instead, he just growled and bared his teeth. The streetlight was right on his face and Cara had a perfect view of his face and mouth. Of his fangs.
"Arrghh," she said involuntarily, covering her mouth with her hand. Those were not just exceptionally large canines. Those were fangs. And Seamus was leaping through the air like he had superpowers.
Something was very, very wrong here. Now the big guy had seen her.
"Who are you?" he asked, getting back to his feet after kissing concrete. He took a step toward her, a leer on his face. He wasn't as ugly as the other guy, who was currently in a headlock under Seamus's armpit, but he looked stupid.
"Leave her be. I'll wipe her memory," Seamus said. Excuse me? That didn't sound pleasant. Cara started fast-walking toward the door.
Stupid cut her off, stepping right in front of her escape path. His nostrils flared. "You smell good."
Cara grimaced. That just didn't sound like a compliment. But to prevent pissing him off, she murmured, "Thank you."
If she ran the other way, toward the street, she could get help. She chanced a glance at Seamus. He still had the ugly guy in his grip, but was getting his head pounded against the wall in retaliation. Cara winced. That must hurt. That was brain damage in the making.
It was up to her to make a break for it. Especially since Stupid was leaning toward her, his mouth wide open.
"I bet you taste really good, too," he said.
Eeew. Time to move it. "What's that?" Cara asked, pointing behind the guy's right shoulder.
"What?" He turned.
She ran like hell to the end of the alley and out into the street.
It was a good plan.
What she hadn't factored in was the possibility of a car driving right in that particular spot.
She popped out with too much momentum to slow down, even as she realized an SUV was only a few feet from her. She felt the impact of the huge car like a massive shove, her brain rattling, her breath sucking right out of her lungs. Then she was hurtling through the air with nothing to hold on to, a scream stuck in her throat.
This could be a problem.
Cara landed, pain ripping through her entire body, crunching and jarring and tearing.
Then with great relief, she passed out.
Seamus smelled Cara's blood flowing before he saw her. The SUV peeled back into reverse and took off, the guy behind the wheel looking panicked, his eyes glassy with shock and alcohol. With the car gone, Seamus had a clear view down the street to where Cara lay in a heap, her leg tucked under her at an awkward angle, blood seeping from her head down onto the street.
He ran, Ugly and Stupid behind him, sniping at each other.
"This is your fault," the one said.
"My fault? What did I do?"
"You had to get distracted. You had to think with your fangs. And now she's dead, Fox isn't, and the other chick is gone."
Seamus half listened, the fact that they knew who he was barely registering. Their attack wasn't random, but he couldn't deal with that at the moment. His concern was for Cara. He kneeled down, digging through her hair to find her neck and search for a pulse. If he strained, he could hear a heartbeat, but it was faint, irregular, and he wasn't sure if it was real, or wishful thinking on his part.
This woman couldn't be dead. If she was, it was his fault. He had approached her backstage, he had reached out to her mentally, connected them. She must have sensed something was happening in the alley and she had walked into the middle of that mess because of him. Guilt was a terrible thing. He had nearly smothered under it back during the Revolution. Had only crawled back out because Ethan had forced him to, and he wasn't at all sure he could do it a second time.
He wasn't finding Cara's pulse. "Damn it." He brushed her long hair out of the way, scooted in closer.
"She's dead, man."
"Fuck you."
"Can I have a little taste now?" the second guy said. "Before her blood gets cold."
Now that made Seamus angry. Very, very angry. He stood up and yanked the knife right out of Ugly's hand. "Get the hell out of here before I drive this through your black heart."
Ugly scoffed. "Try it."
Seamus did. The knife went right into the man's chest, sinking deep with a sick sucking sound.
"Shit, I can't believe you did that." The guy jerked back, swearing and grabbing at his chest. "You bastard!"
His friend laughed and made no move to help him. Seamus reached back and pulled a piece of metal off the ground, car refuse from the accident. Before Stupid even had time to react, Seamus cut off his laughter by stabbing him in the same spot as the other guy. It wouldn't kill either of them, since it wasn't wood, but it would hurt like hell and get them away from Seamus.
"Ow! What'd you do that for?" Stupid looked downright indignant as he glanced down at the injury. "I didn't
mean
for her to wind up dead. Not my fault mortals are so breakable."
"You were going to kill me, weren't you?" Seamus asked, pressing the bottom of his shirt onto Cara's head wound, knowing it was futile, feeling sick and bitter and hating himself.
"Well…" They darted glances at each other, both grimacing and grabbing their chests. "Yes."