banked dangerously to the side. “Evasive maneuvers, attack from water,” he growled into his earpiece.
Janie smashed her palm against the side of the craft, her heart racing, her breath rushing out. Cold metal scraped her skin. She reached out and clutched her father’s thigh for support.
He turned toward the window on his side and drew a gun from his waistband. Fury vibrated along his back. “Missile from the ocean?” Leaning against the opening, he scanned the ocean below. “Three rafts—very small.”
Another missile winged by, barely missing the craft. The helicopter banked sharply, and Janie cried out. Only Dage’s incredible reflexes kept them from being hit.
“How do they know this is us?” Max growled, yanking open the passenger-side door for a better shooting angle. He fired rapidly down, half-leaning outside, one large hand keeping him from falling.
Dage banked hard left. “They’re attacking every helicopter.”
Janie swallowed and tugged a gun from her back pocket. Her terror panted out. She wouldn’t have much range, but if they went down, she wanted to be prepared. Although the missiles were kill shots and not an effort to merely take them out of the air, they might get a chance to fight.
“How the hell did they get near enough to bring in rafts?” Talen yelled.
Janie peered closer, her nose pressed to the bulletproof glass. “We’re far enough away from headquarters that we wouldn’t have seen them.” Plus, the rafts were incredibly small—it was possible the vampire’s security measures wouldn’t have tracked them.
The gun lay heavy in her hand, and she fought the urge to fire. Her gun was too small to reach a target this far up, and she might need the weapon upon landing.
Dage punched a yellow button in the ceiling. “Load up.”
Parachutes dropped from the roof. Janie reached for one, buttoning up with trembling fingers and getting ready to fly. The blood echoed as it roared between her ears. The vampires suited up.
An explosion rocked the sky.
Panic swept Janie’s mind clean. Who had been hit?
Dage jerked his head around. “Shit. Jase? Come in.”
God. It had been Uncle Jase. Emotion clogged Janie’s throat, and she pivoted to look out the window. Blazes of fire and smoke spiraled through the gathering rain. Jase’s craft spun, descending in slow motion toward the churning ocean.
She squinted as hard as possible but failed to see through the debris and smoke. Were there bodies? Her breath held while she tried to make out yellow parachutes. Nothing but black smoke and billowing fire filled the sky.
Her gaze took in the gray day and the other helicopters, and her throat closed.
Talen ripped open his door and leaned out. A burst of cold air swirled inside. “Does anybody see Jase?” he yelled.
“No.” Max kept firing down and nailed a raft. The rubber exploded, spraying salt water up. Several men fell over the side into the dangerous water, and the other two rafts maneuvered to fetch them.
Max bellowed a warrior’s cry and aimed at the rescuers. Talen leaned out and added his firepower to Max’s.
“Get us down to the water,” Talen ordered. “We need to find Jase and his squad.”
Dage nodded. “Give me a minute. We’re still taking fire.” He glanced over his shoulder at Janie. “Get ready to shoot.”
“Not a problem.” Janie took several calming breaths, but her heart still beat erratically against her breastbone.
An intense wave of shrieking pain lanced into her brain. Images of death and disease flared alive, dancing with the physical agony. She cried out and clapped a hand over her forehead. The pain intensified, and her ears grew numb.
Talen groaned. “Fucking demon mind attack.”
A missile hit their chopper, sending it spinning through the smoky air. A burn lanced along her arm. They spun around and around, and a high-pitched squeal erupted from the engine. Smoke billowed past the window.
“Everyone jump. Now!” Dage
Janie smashed her palm against the side of the craft, her heart racing, her breath rushing out. Cold metal scraped her skin. She reached out and clutched her father’s thigh for support.
He turned toward the window on his side and drew a gun from his waistband. Fury vibrated along his back. “Missile from the ocean?” Leaning against the opening, he scanned the ocean below. “Three rafts—very small.”
Another missile winged by, barely missing the craft. The helicopter banked sharply, and Janie cried out. Only Dage’s incredible reflexes kept them from being hit.
“How do they know this is us?” Max growled, yanking open the passenger-side door for a better shooting angle. He fired rapidly down, half-leaning outside, one large hand keeping him from falling.
Dage banked hard left. “They’re attacking every helicopter.”
Janie swallowed and tugged a gun from her back pocket. Her terror panted out. She wouldn’t have much range, but if they went down, she wanted to be prepared. Although the missiles were kill shots and not an effort to merely take them out of the air, they might get a chance to fight.
“How the hell did they get near enough to bring in rafts?” Talen yelled.
Janie peered closer, her nose pressed to the bulletproof glass. “We’re far enough away from headquarters that we wouldn’t have seen them.” Plus, the rafts were incredibly small—it was possible the vampire’s security measures wouldn’t have tracked them.
The gun lay heavy in her hand, and she fought the urge to fire. Her gun was too small to reach a target this far up, and she might need the weapon upon landing.
Dage punched a yellow button in the ceiling. “Load up.”
Parachutes dropped from the roof. Janie reached for one, buttoning up with trembling fingers and getting ready to fly. The blood echoed as it roared between her ears. The vampires suited up.
An explosion rocked the sky.
Panic swept Janie’s mind clean. Who had been hit?
Dage jerked his head around. “Shit. Jase? Come in.”
God. It had been Uncle Jase. Emotion clogged Janie’s throat, and she pivoted to look out the window. Blazes of fire and smoke spiraled through the gathering rain. Jase’s craft spun, descending in slow motion toward the churning ocean.
She squinted as hard as possible but failed to see through the debris and smoke. Were there bodies? Her breath held while she tried to make out yellow parachutes. Nothing but black smoke and billowing fire filled the sky.
Her gaze took in the gray day and the other helicopters, and her throat closed.
Talen ripped open his door and leaned out. A burst of cold air swirled inside. “Does anybody see Jase?” he yelled.
“No.” Max kept firing down and nailed a raft. The rubber exploded, spraying salt water up. Several men fell over the side into the dangerous water, and the other two rafts maneuvered to fetch them.
Max bellowed a warrior’s cry and aimed at the rescuers. Talen leaned out and added his firepower to Max’s.
“Get us down to the water,” Talen ordered. “We need to find Jase and his squad.”
Dage nodded. “Give me a minute. We’re still taking fire.” He glanced over his shoulder at Janie. “Get ready to shoot.”
“Not a problem.” Janie took several calming breaths, but her heart still beat erratically against her breastbone.
An intense wave of shrieking pain lanced into her brain. Images of death and disease flared alive, dancing with the physical agony. She cried out and clapped a hand over her forehead. The pain intensified, and her ears grew numb.
Talen groaned. “Fucking demon mind attack.”
A missile hit their chopper, sending it spinning through the smoky air. A burn lanced along her arm. They spun around and around, and a high-pitched squeal erupted from the engine. Smoke billowed past the window.
“Everyone jump. Now!” Dage
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