Gaslight (Crossbreed #4)(82)

Fletcher kicked me unexpectedly, and I yelped from the pain. He never held back. His punches and kicks were unbridled and oftentimes unrelenting. This time the pain was gripping. He’d either broken a rib or lacerated a kidney. When I rolled over to fight back with what little energy I had left, my eyes went wide.

Christian loomed behind Fletcher like a dark shadow from the underworld, murder in his eyes. I’d never seen that look on him before, and it was as if the chill in the room were emanating solely from him. He stood so impossibly still that I wondered for a moment if I was hallucinating.

When Fletcher ran his finger over the clasped button on his pants, Christian’s fangs elongated. I swung my gaze back to Fletcher, uncertain if I’d just given Christian away.

The moment Christian’s arm hooked around to grab him, Fletcher disappeared. One minute he was standing in front of me, and the next, by the toilet.

Christian turned, arms straight and fingers splayed.

“He’s a Jumper,” I rasped, stating the obvious.

Any Mage could flash, but Jumpers could literally move from one space to the next within a short distance. It used up a lot of energy and had limitations. Fletcher couldn’t travel through walls, but it made catching him next to impossible.

“You’re mine now,” Christian growled.

The hair on my neck rose. No matter how ruthless Christian was, I couldn’t underestimate Fletcher for a minute.

Snuffing out the candles would blind Fletcher. I crawled toward the bucket of water by the wall, my legs dragging behind me.

“And who might you be?” Fletcher inquired.

“I’m Christian Poe. You should know the name of the man who’s going to make the last moments of your life the worst hell you’ve ever imagined.” He backed up toward the door to prevent Fletcher from leaving.

“I’ll pay you.”

“Aye. You’ll pay me in screams.”

When I reached the bucket, I scooped up a handful of water and threw it at the candle. It flickered but didn’t go out. There was no way I could lift the bucket, so I did it again.

Fletcher jumped behind me, and his arm locked around my neck, cutting off the circulation. “Get away from the door, or I’ll break her neck and pull her head clean off like a chicken.”

And he had the strength to do it.

“You mean that incredible woman you’ve created and worked so hard to ruin?” Christian took a step forward. “After your bones are in the ground, I’ll come back once a year to piss on them.”

I gripped one of Fletcher’s hands and locked my fingers with his. With everything I had in me, I pulled at his light. One hand wasn’t enough, but it made him gasp and jerk back.

Christian eyed one of the candles, but putting it out would mean moving away from the door.

The sharp blade of Fletcher’s dagger threatened to pierce my skin. “Is this your maker?” he snarled.

I turned my head and bit into his cheek with my fangs.

“Don’t even try it!” Fletcher roared, locking my head so I couldn’t move.

My eyes bulged, and I felt on the verge of blacking out until I glimpsed movement in the hall. Light glinted off an object that swung in the air, and Christian bent over, his blood streaming onto the floor.

Rachel stood behind him, holding a shovel over her head.

Fletcher let go and jumped to the far corner by the door. “Better get her before she bleeds out. Unless you’re thirsty.” He flashed his teeth at me. “I’ll be seeing you again, my little pet.” He laughed maniacally and disappeared from the room.

Rachel stumbled backward, eyes wide. The shovel hit the floor with a clang, and she bolted out the door.

It took me a minute to realize what was tickling my neck and chest. Fletcher had cut my neck with a pocketknife.

Christian surged toward me and dropped to his knees.

I swayed, dizzy from the blood pouring out of my jugular. He bit his wrist and forced it into my mouth, and sweet Vampire blood flowed across my tongue and down my throat. Every swallow lessened the pain and invigorated me with so much of Christian’s emotions that my head spun.

It wasn’t enough. I clawed my way up to his neck and sank my teeth into his skin, deep enough to access that river of life inside him. Wrapping my arms around his shoulders, I drank deep until my old wounds healed up. I shouldn’t have gone that far, but once I started, it was impossible to break the connection.

And he gave. Not once did he draw back or tell me it was too much, even at the risk of my weakening him.

Christian gripped my chain and yanked it clean out of the wall. When I stopped drinking, he abruptly pushed me away and held my shoulders. “Sweetheart, I’m here now.”

I recoiled and slapped him. Sweetheart? If he hadn’t left me alone at the bar, I wouldn’t have gotten into this mess. It infuriated me so much that I slapped him again.

Christian pulled me into his arms. “Jaysus, I’m sorry. I never meant for this to happen.”

I tried to push away, but he wouldn’t let me.

“You can slap me all you like once we’re home.”

“I’m dirty.” My voice was a hoarse whisper. “You need to go after him.”

“Worry not. They’re on their way.”

“Who?”

“Keystone. Who else?”