Chicks Kick Butt by Nancy Holder, Karen Chance, P. N. Elrod, Rachel Vincent, Rachel Caine, Jeanne C. Stein, Susan Krinard, Lilith Saintcrow, Cheyenne McCray, Carole Nelson Douglas, Jenna Black, L. A. Banks, Elizabeth A. Vaughan Page A

Ray said, his face looming large in front of mine. It appeared agitated.
    “Big, bad dhampir wan’ go sleep.”
    “They’re laughing at you,” he said, grabbing my chin and turning my head toward Cheung’s men. “Look at them. They’re laughing!”
    It took me a moment to focus, but when I did, they didn’t look like they were laughing. Mostly, they looked bored and a little nervous. Apparently, the novelty of seeing the boss shit-faced had worn off, and a few of the smarter ones had started to wonder just how much they were going to pay for having witnessed this.
    One look at Cheung, and I didn’t think they needed to worry.
    His tie was gone, his shirt was open halfway down his chest, his bangs had all flopped into his eyes, and while he might not have been sweating, he was looking pretty damn green. I wasn’t sure how much he’d remember tomorrow, which was just as well, since he also appeared to have developed a fascination with Scarface’s hair. He kept reaching up to poke at the spikes, and appeared amazed when they weren’t sharp.
    “You can take him!” Ray whispered in my ear.
    “Damn straight.”
    The next thing I remember, Ray was fishing me out from under the table. Or at least he was trying to, but Scarface’s foot was in the way. “On. Her. Ass,” Scarface said proudly.
    “She just slipped,” Ray said, sounding frantic. “Anybody could slip. She’s fine!”
    “Like hell she’s fine. Look at her!”
    “I am,” someone said, from somewhere behind us. “Would you care to explain to me what is wrong with her?”
    Scarface slowly straightened, his foot sliding off Ray’s wrist. Ray seized the opportunity to drag me upright. “I love you, man,” I told him blearily, catching one of his hands.
    “God. Just. Shut. Up,” he muttered.
    The room appeared to be spinning anyway, so I followed it around to where a handsome auburn-haired vamp was standing by the main entrance. He had a sword in either hand and appeared miffed. Louis-Cesare, my brain supplied helpfully, after a minute. I was pleased to see him, although I couldn’t exactly recall why. But I sent him a sloppy smile anyway.
    “She has not been injured,” Scarface said, stepping away from the table to give himself room to maneuver. And as soon as he did, his boss slowly slipped off his seat and into a well-dressed lump on the floor.
    “On his ass! On his ass!” Ray said, letting go of me to point.
    “So is she,” Scarface hissed, as I flopped facefirst onto concrete. “And she was first.”
    “Only because you were holding him up! You were cheating!”
    “No, this would be cheating,” Scarface said, and smashed a bottle upside Ray’s head.
    And then things got a little confusing.
    Scarface lunged at Ray, who stumbled back, squeaking. But he tripped over me and slammed into the case of fey wine, crushing it beneath him. Thanks God for large favors, I thought fervently.
    And then I remembered why I was happy to see Louis-Cesare.
    “Love you!” I yelled encouragingly, which caused him to start suddenly. Then, for some reason, he scowled. And then the sprinkler system got turned on, although that might have been later, because when I looked around, I was by the bar.
    Someone was trying to pound the butt of a shotgun through my skull. So I yanked it out of his grasp and brought it down on his kneecaps. He screamed in pain and grabbed for the weapon, we struggled, and it went off, blowing a hole the size of a basketball through the fake wood paneling separating the club from the bar.
    We both stared at it for a second before he grabbed for me—at the same time that another vamp brought a club down, trying to crush my hand. I rolled out of the way and he hit his buddy’s instead, with a crunching sound that indicated a broken bone or three. The first vamp screamed again and reflexively kicked out, knocking his buddy back into a nest of bar stools. The stools scattered, the vamp fell backward, and my hand closed on one of my