War of Hearts(30)

She heard something crack, she couldn’t breathe, and it wasn’t because she was soaring through the air like a fucking bird. Pain cracked up her spine and her neck rolled before she was grounded again.

As quickly as she hadn’t been able to breathe, air flooded her lungs, and the pain dissipated. She got to her feet on shaky legs, realizing the vampire she’d danced with had kicked her as if she were merely a football, and she’d hurtled through the air and slammed into the edge of the stage.

Outraged by his show of strength, unnerved even, Thea fell into a defensive stance, glaring at him as he moved through his vampire friends. She’d picked up most of what she knew about other supernaturals during her time with Ashforth, since the man was obsessed with the paranormal. She’d met her first vampire at Ashforth’s and from him, she’d learned that the older a vampire was, the stronger they were.

This guy had momentarily collapsed Thea’s lung. With a mere kick to the chest.

So, he was old.

He cocked his head, eyes narrowed on her chest. “I heard the damage … now I hear nothing. You healed instantly. What are you?”

“I’m out of here.” She saw an exit door off the right side of the old stage and made a feint toward it. They chased and Thea leapt with the grace of a cat; she pushed her feet off one of the galleria pillars, using the height to jump over their heads in the opposite direction. Her landing was just as graceful, but two of the vampires ruined the suaveness of the entire maneuver by catching her. They pulled her into a brutal fight, growing more and more frustrated that she was landing hits while they failed to.

Becoming impatient, Thea sought to end it, to incapacitate, and so she snapped the neck of one of the vampires, knocking him out cold.

“Oh, you’re dead now, little girl,” the other vampire threatened. “We will fuck you up and have a lot of fun doing it. Ever been tortured? You will not like it, I assure you.”

Memories flooded Thea at the threat.

Nightmares that unfortunately were real.

And just like that, the savagery of survival instinct took over. First, she disoriented him, moving this way and that until his back was to her. Then she leapt with a light grace onto the top of a theater chair and used it to propel her onto the vampire’s back. Before he could even react, she punched her fist through his back with every ounce of supernatural strength within her, gripped tight to his heart, and ripped.

The hot muscle in her hand crumbled to ashes seconds before his entire body obliterated into dust. Thea dropped to her feet as the three remaining vampires stared at her in mounting rage.

Three blurry streaks sped toward her, surrounding her so she couldn’t find a way out. Outrage and fear flooded her as she found herself captured by two of the vampires. They held fast to her wrists, holding her outstretched. As much as she strained, she couldn’t detach them. Her original hunter stepped toward her, his eyes pure silver.

“It was never stipulated whether I was to keep you alive,” he snarled. “So, you’re dead now, bitch.”

It was difficult for Thea to feel anything approaching the word agony. Pain, yes. Agony, not so much. Ashforth was the only one who seemed to know how to inflict it.

But until that point, no one had come close to hurting her like he had.

Until this vampire pulled back his arm and thrust it like a sledgehammer through brick into her chest.

She gasped at the indescribable horror of feeling his hand curl around her heart.

He squeezed, and it was excruciating, but she still enjoyed the way his eyes rounded in horror when he realized her heart was uncrushable.

Her heart was uncrushable.

Jesus fuck.

Fury and disbelief tightened his features, and he gave her heart a yank. She muffled a gasp at the sickening sensation as her heart tugged but could not be removed.

“What the hell are you?” he breathed. “Are you—”

Flecks of coppery-tasting fluid splattered Thea’s face as the vise on her heart released.

She sagged in relief and confusion until she looked through a cloud of dust into Conall’s fierce face. His canines were out as he towered over the gathering, his arms spread wide, his claws protracted and wet with blood.

He’d just decapitated the vamp with his bare hands.

Holy shit.

A sickening ache filled Thea’s chest as it began to heal and she found herself on her knees, unable to move as she knitted herself back together.

Not that her help was required.

A mix of fear and admiration filled her as she watched the alpha fight the remaining vampires. Their deaths were appallingly quick as they came at Conall. He seemed to brace for them as they rushed him on either side, a blur of movement, hard to track.

But track them he did.

Conall punched out, claws sharp, and the vamps speed, meeting his, inadvertently caused their deaths with the force of impact. His fists slammed through their chests and he ripped out their hearts.

The next moment they were dust.

Thea tried to reassure herself that if she’d just given into killing the vampires in the first place, she could have killed them faster than even Conall had.

Still, this wolf was worryingly strong.

And he’d found her.

Which could only mean one thing.

He really did have a tracking ability.

She watched as he approached the vampire passed out cold and punched a hole through his chest, removing his heart, until he too was nothing but dust. Conall stood and glared at her. “No witnesses,” he explained.