Fangs and Fennel (The Venom Trilogy #2)(40)

I licked my lips and held the vodka up. “Bottoms up.”

Their eyes were dead—no pun intended—as though there was nothing going on behind them. Dahlia squeezed my arm. “Whatever you do, don’t look back.”

“What?”

“Go, up to Santos’s room.”

“What?” The second time was far more strangled. Why in the world would we go back to Santos’s room?

We stepped into the living room, and I knew why. If I’d been paying attention to all the signals my extra-special senses had been giving me, I would have smelled the vampires; I would have been aware. But my fear had gotten in the way.

“Sugar biscuits.” I breathed the words, and Dahlia grabbed my arm, all but dragging me up the stairs. The vampires didn’t move, only watched us go. We were down the hallway and back in Santos’s room in a matter of seconds, though with the weight of the eyes on us, it felt much longer.

Dahlia slammed the door. “Shit, this couldn’t get much worse.”

A groan behind us spun me around. Santos sat up, a hand to his head.

“Dahlia, we’re in trouble.”

She glanced at Santos. “Just put him under again.”

He lurched back, his eyes glancing off mine and then away. “Guards!”

I leapt for him, swinging the bottle of vodka. It crashed into his head and he went down again, blood pouring from the side of his face. “Sorry!”

“Don’t apologize to him!” Dahlia yelled as she ran past me. I didn’t think, just ran after her. She crashed through the double doors that looked down the mountain. Even when I jumped out and off the balcony I wasn’t really thinking, because if I had been, I would have remembered we were on the second story. I screeched as I fell, instincts tucking me into a ball. I hit the ground hard, but it didn’t hurt as much as I thought it should. Flat on my back, I stared up at Dahlia. She still had the flask.

“We’ve got to teach you to land on your feet.” She grabbed my hand and hauled me up. “Time to run.”

Behind us came the sound of yelling and gunfire. Not good. But at least this time they didn’t have the oil. Score one for our team. I ran for the gondola, but Dahlia grabbed me. “Are you crazy? They’ll cut the cables the instant they figure it out.”

She had a point.

So we ran down the mountain, using the path that had been cut into it for years of hiking pleasure. The switchbacks wove down in a tight zigzag, which meant we weren’t getting as far as it felt.

A vampire landed in front of us, underlining the point I’d been about to make. I shoved him hard with both hands, sending him over a side cliff.

“That won’t stop him,” Dahlia said.

I looked back the way we’d come, and it seemed that the sky above was filled with what looked like flying vampires as they leapt their way down the mountain. And here we were, staying on the designated path like a couple of nincompoops. “Jump!”

Dahlia leapt first, and I followed. The first jump took me down three levels of switchbacks, and I landed on my knees. I glanced back in time to see the vamps already back in the air with their next jump.

“Go, go!” I yelled at her. The worst thing to happen wouldn’t be dying, as far as I was concerned. It would be having that oil land back into their hands and used on me in some form of torture. I wasn’t sure I could handle knowing it was out there and ready to be used against me again.

Fear for my life and skin drove me. Fear for Dahlia slowed me. I could take the vampires. But I knew Dahlia couldn’t, not this many.

Dahlia jumped, and this time I waited for the vampires. She screeched at me. “Alena, no!”

I didn’t look at her. “Get it home! Get it to Remo!”

I stood and squared my shoulders. Time to put on my big-girl panties if I wanted Dahlia and me to both get out of here alive, and that dang oil free of Santos.

I pulled out the two wooden spoons I’d snagged from the kitchen. The first vamp landed in front of me, shirtless, blood all over his chest, as terrifying as anything I’d seen in the Super Duper world. His buddy landed behind me with a thump. I turned so I could keep eyes on both of them. It was the twins we’d seen in the kitchen. The one to the left of me took one look at the wooden spoon and laughed, going so far as to throw his head back.

His twin on the other side of me mimicked him. I had a split second to do something before they would be on me.

I braced my legs wide, clutched the fat scooping end of my weapon, and thrust the wooden spoon forward like a spear, aiming straight for the heart of the twin on the right, between two of his ribs that flexed with his laughter. Not really expecting it to do much more than snap off in my hand, I did it anyway.

What else could I do? The weapon at hand was simple; I had no other choice.

The wooden spoon slid between his ribs, and his whole body jerked. The laughter stilled and he stared at me. “Killed with a wooden spoon?” Like he couldn’t believe it, even though it had happened. Blood bubbled out over his lips as he slumped, his fingers brushing along the edge of the spoon.

“I’m sorry,” I said and pulled the spoon out with a slurping plop, like a too-thick batter that wouldn’t let go. I spun and, with a backhand, drove the second spoon handle through his brother’s chest as he stood there staring, shock keeping him in place. “Not possible,” the big vampire spluttered.