was down to my speed, my strength, arid my wits.
"This oughta go well," I murmured.
My voice infuriated the Nephilim. He brayed that dreadful sound again, and the slight paralyzation that followed the near-bursting of my eardrums allowed him to step in close.
This time when he bitch-slapped me, I flew. As my back hit the rock face, I caught a flash of movement from the rear of the cave.
I slid to the ground, blinked hard to clear away the stars in time to see Jimmy shove the howler in the chest. The beast fell back several paces. Jimmy's eyes blazed—just as I'd imagined they might—red at the center. Fangs flashed. He snarled like a rabid animal, and I tensed, expecting him to spring forward and sink those sparkly whites into the Nephilim's neck.
Instead, he placed one hand on the howler's head, the other on its shoulder, and yanked the beast in two like the wishbone on a chicken.
CHAPTER 7
Blood sprayed everywhere, turning the dirt floor black, my white shoes red, speckling my shirt and my face.
Jimmy dropped the howler's head, and it landed on the ground with a sickening thud, bouncing a few feet before stopping with the human nose pointing skyward through the overgrown, bestial dark hair. The body stayed upright for several seconds, still pumping blood toward the ceiling in a bright crimson stream.
Why hadn't I thought of that? I'd been stuck on weapons—knives, swords, saws. I hadn't learned yet to think outside the box when it came to killing.
Would my superior dhampir strength have been enough to tear a Nephilim in two? I doubted it. Most likely the superhuman powers of a vampire were necessary.
Covered in blood, Jimmy stared at the howler. Fists clenching and unclenching, he licked his lips.
All that blood. How could he resist?
My chest began to burn as I held my breath, waiting for him to lean over and put his mouth beneath the slowly dying stream like a child with the garden hose on a hot summer day.
I drew in a lungful of air, wincing at the pain in my ribs. They'd heal, probably in the next few minutes, but right now—
"Ouch."
I should have kept my mouth shut. Jimmy's head jerked in my direction. The red light at the center of his eyes had faded, his fangs retracted. He would have looked exactly like the boy I'd loved, if not for the blood all over his face.
His mouth formed the word Lizzy, then he held out his red-slicked hands and cringed. Before I could say or do anything, he ran, straight past me and into the depths of the cave in a blur of speed that my eyes could barely track.
I forced myself to stand, retrieve the flashlight, and follow him. In the distance something large hit a water surface. I followed the scent of rain to another, smaller cavern, which contained a pond.
In the distance, thunder rumbled. Water trickled down the rock face, making gentle, peaceful music, in direct contrast to the sight of Jimmy bobbing in the center, scrubbing frantically at the blood on his face, his neck, and his hands.
I really wanted to jump in, too, but with Jimmy channeling Lady Macbeth, I figured I'd better wait, so I took a seat on the edge.
Jimmy went under, then he stayed there so long I nearly went in and hauled him out. At last he burst above the surface, flinging droplets every which way.
"What are you doing here?" He faced the rock wall, rubbing at his skin, even though I didn't see any more blood.
"What do you think?" I asked. "We're in a war, San-ducci, and I'm a little short on soldiers.'"
"I won't be any good to you."
"You looked pretty good a few minutes ago. I'd say you've still got it."
He shook his head, and his shoulders slumped. "I've been trying to beat the monster back. I thought I had it under control, then I saw that thing hit you and—"
"You saved me. What's so wrong about that?"
"I wanted to drink its blood, Lizzy."
"I know," I said softly.
"I can never leave here while I want that, and I'm starting to think that I'll never be able to stop wanting
"This oughta go well," I murmured.
My voice infuriated the Nephilim. He brayed that dreadful sound again, and the slight paralyzation that followed the near-bursting of my eardrums allowed him to step in close.
This time when he bitch-slapped me, I flew. As my back hit the rock face, I caught a flash of movement from the rear of the cave.
I slid to the ground, blinked hard to clear away the stars in time to see Jimmy shove the howler in the chest. The beast fell back several paces. Jimmy's eyes blazed—just as I'd imagined they might—red at the center. Fangs flashed. He snarled like a rabid animal, and I tensed, expecting him to spring forward and sink those sparkly whites into the Nephilim's neck.
Instead, he placed one hand on the howler's head, the other on its shoulder, and yanked the beast in two like the wishbone on a chicken.
CHAPTER 7
Blood sprayed everywhere, turning the dirt floor black, my white shoes red, speckling my shirt and my face.
Jimmy dropped the howler's head, and it landed on the ground with a sickening thud, bouncing a few feet before stopping with the human nose pointing skyward through the overgrown, bestial dark hair. The body stayed upright for several seconds, still pumping blood toward the ceiling in a bright crimson stream.
Why hadn't I thought of that? I'd been stuck on weapons—knives, swords, saws. I hadn't learned yet to think outside the box when it came to killing.
Would my superior dhampir strength have been enough to tear a Nephilim in two? I doubted it. Most likely the superhuman powers of a vampire were necessary.
Covered in blood, Jimmy stared at the howler. Fists clenching and unclenching, he licked his lips.
All that blood. How could he resist?
My chest began to burn as I held my breath, waiting for him to lean over and put his mouth beneath the slowly dying stream like a child with the garden hose on a hot summer day.
I drew in a lungful of air, wincing at the pain in my ribs. They'd heal, probably in the next few minutes, but right now—
"Ouch."
I should have kept my mouth shut. Jimmy's head jerked in my direction. The red light at the center of his eyes had faded, his fangs retracted. He would have looked exactly like the boy I'd loved, if not for the blood all over his face.
His mouth formed the word Lizzy, then he held out his red-slicked hands and cringed. Before I could say or do anything, he ran, straight past me and into the depths of the cave in a blur of speed that my eyes could barely track.
I forced myself to stand, retrieve the flashlight, and follow him. In the distance something large hit a water surface. I followed the scent of rain to another, smaller cavern, which contained a pond.
In the distance, thunder rumbled. Water trickled down the rock face, making gentle, peaceful music, in direct contrast to the sight of Jimmy bobbing in the center, scrubbing frantically at the blood on his face, his neck, and his hands.
I really wanted to jump in, too, but with Jimmy channeling Lady Macbeth, I figured I'd better wait, so I took a seat on the edge.
Jimmy went under, then he stayed there so long I nearly went in and hauled him out. At last he burst above the surface, flinging droplets every which way.
"What are you doing here?" He faced the rock wall, rubbing at his skin, even though I didn't see any more blood.
"What do you think?" I asked. "We're in a war, San-ducci, and I'm a little short on soldiers.'"
"I won't be any good to you."
"You looked pretty good a few minutes ago. I'd say you've still got it."
He shook his head, and his shoulders slumped. "I've been trying to beat the monster back. I thought I had it under control, then I saw that thing hit you and—"
"You saved me. What's so wrong about that?"
"I wanted to drink its blood, Lizzy."
"I know," I said softly.
"I can never leave here while I want that, and I'm starting to think that I'll never be able to stop wanting
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