Storm's Heart (Elder Races #2)(38)

Niniane whispered, “Call off your people if you want them to live.”

“My people will do their job,” Carling said.

The Vampyre sorceress had lost her habitual amused detachment. Instead she stared at Tiago with a combination of anger and fascination. She also shimmered with vitality, her skin, eyes and hair more lustrous than ever.

After one quick, incredulous glance, Niniane dismissed the enigma that was Carling. She turned back to the tableau. Tension trembled in the air like the shiver of an avalanche before it crashed down a mountain range. She held a hand out and tried to smile at the monster down the hall as she walked toward him.

“It’s okay now, Tiago,” she said. She tried for gentle and soothing. Instead she got scared and shaky. Crap. She forced a false sense of conviction into her voice. “Listen to me. Everything’s okay.”

The monster’s blazing gaze fixed on her. Tiago started toward her, and the avalanche came down.

The dark-haired Vampyre nearest Tiago moved to attack so fast he was a blur. If Niniane had been human, she might have missed it.

Tiago’s enormous fist pistoned. He punched the Vampyre, whose body shot through the air and slammed through a wall. Tiago kept moving forward.

The other two Vampyres attacked. Tiago grabbed one. He spun on his heel and threw the Vampyre into the stairwell. With a wicked slash of fangs and talons, the third Vampyre leaped on him. Crimson blood spurted from wounds that appeared on Tiago’s face and neck.

A blinding white-hot sear of flame flashed out of Tiago’s eyes. Every light in the hall exploded as the lightning bolt struck the third Vampyre in the chest. The Vampyre flew back fifteen feet and slid along the ground to lie motionless. Thunder exploded in a rolling boom. It sounded like a rocket launcher had been fired in the hall. All the while, Tiago continued to plow toward her, an unstoppable juggernaut.

The humans armed with guns chambered rounds. They were far too slow for this kind of fight. Niniane would have called them cannon fodder except they were in addition to the Vampyres who were already occuping Tiago’s attention. So many stood against Tiago, including Rhoswen, who hung back and stood in readiness to protect her mistress. Then there was the immovable object, Carling, the king cobra of the nest, who watched the conflict and waited in the background with all of her considerable venom at full strength.

Tiago against Carling. If those two came head-to-head, if they actually fought each other, neither would stop until one was dead. Between the two of them they could raze Chicago to the ground.

No.

For the second time in one day, terror mowed down her reasoning skills.

She didn’t think. She didn’t calculate risk or odds. She acted.

She flung herself forward and shrieked, “STOP!”

Niniane may not have much in the way of size or strength, but as a Dark Fae, she was slippery-fast. She was much faster than any of the humans. She was certainly faster than Rhoswen, who flung out a hand to stop her but acted far too late.

At her scream, Tiago spun from the fallen Vampyre. She leaped for him with her arms outstretched, blindly trusting him to catch her. She caught a blurred glimpse of that monstrous savage face and the white blaze in eyes, which were overcome with astonishment. He snatched her out of the air and whirled to place his body between hers and the others. One tremendous hand covered the back of her head as he jammed her face into his chest.

She grabbed fistfuls of his shirt, still wet from her earlier outburst of temper. The ferocious engine in his chest hammered against her cheek. His heavily muscled arms wrapped tight around her. He shoved her against the wall and covered the top of her head with his.

He sacrificed his ability to fight in order to protect her.

She had time to think, no, this wasn’t what I meant. This is a unilateral disarmament.

They’ll kill him.

She opened her mouth to scream.

Then in one of the most beautiful voices in the world, and one of the deadliest, the king cobra spoke a quiet foreign word filled with Power.

Everything stopped.

EIGHT

A nearby broken light fixture emitted a fitful buzzing. Other than that, the hall was filled with total silence.

For a moment it seemed the whole world had gone still. Niniane pressed her face against the warmth of Tiago’s broad chest. She concentrated on the powerful rhythm of his heartbeat. She felt his ribs expand as he drew in a breath.

Then he released her. He pulled his sword and one of his guns. She pulled his second gun from its holster as he turned away. He let her take it. He ordered her telepathically, Stay behind me.

And let him get shot to pieces right in front of her?

Oh phooey! she snapped. She hopped out from behind to stand at his side. It earned her an infuriated growl.

Carling stood not five feet in front of them.

Drywall dust floated in the air. It lent a hazy dreamlike quality to the strange scene. Rhoswen stood unmoving in the center of the hall. The Vampyre who had first attacked Tiago was frozen in the process of crawling back through the hole where he had slammed through the wall. Another Vampyre lay sprawled on the floor, his chest singed black. The third male Vampyre had not reappeared from the stairwell. Eight humans dotted the hallway, each one held stationary by Carling’s Power.

Five guns were still trained where Tiago had stood just moments before. He nudged her gently with the back of one hand and moved sideways with her until they stood several paces to the left.