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“She’s my friend!” She screamed the words at him, kicking and fighting for all she was worth, jerking on his hair, kicking his shins. None of her efforts seemed to bother him at all. Enraged, terrified, she fumbled for the pepper spray in her pocket, aimed it at his face. “You let me go! I can’t just stand here and watch this happen! If I die, I die, but I won’t let him kill her without even trying to stop him!”

  He made another of those movements so fast the action blurred, jerking the pepper spray from her hand. He tossed it away without even glancing at it, and gave a sigh. “Fuck,” he said, in an almost conversational tone, then tossed her aside and was through the door faster than her eyes could register the motion. A half-second later, Valerie came flying inside, landing hard on the floor and rolling a short distance before her limp body came to a stop. With a cry, Chloe flung herself beside Valerie, frantically looking around for something to stop the bleeding from the dreadful wound in her neck, which looked as if an animal had bitten her. There was nothing she could use so she jumped up and raced to the bathroom, grabbed several towels, and ran back. Through the open door she could see … blurs. There was thudding, snarls, the sound of blows, but she couldn’t focus on anything long enough to make out details. She could make out the impressions of flesh and hair, and red smears of what had to be blood, but the two men—men?—themselves were moving so fast she could barely tell they were there.

  Let them kill each other, she thought violently, pressing a towel to the puncture wounds on Valerie’s throat. God, what was going on? Nothing made any sense, unless …

  What she’d seen tonight—the fangs, the biting, the unearthly speed with which they moved. What she’d heard—humans, worse than insanity, monster. Bits and pieces that fell into place—she’d invited Luca in, but Sorin hadn’t been able to simply bring Valerie inside, he’d asked permission—and waited for her to give it. The long hair, the otherness she’d sensed—it all made sense now.

  Except it didn’t. Her senses spun as she tried to get a handle on the impossible thing she was thinking. This couldn’t be real, but Valerie was lying there on her living room floor, bleeding from a bite to the throat. That was real. The unearthly struggle going on in her front yard was real.

  Dear God. Luca was right: she would almost rather be insane, or have a brain tumor. Vampires were fucking real, and for some reason they wanted her dead.

  CHAPTER

  ELEVEN

  In battle, Sorin was almost his equal. He was strong, a man born to battle as a human and one who had continued to hone his skills after being turned. There was also a part of Luca that made him reluctant to kill a man he’d fought beside in the past, one he actually admired.

  He was hampered by his need to take Sorin alive, for questioning. Sorin had no such limitation; he fought hard and fast, his intent plain. With Luca out of the way, Chloe would be dead the moment she set foot outside her house. Within thirty seconds, Luca knew he was in the fight of his life; taking Sorin would be difficult enough even if he wasn’t holding back a little.

  “You’ve been practicing,” he grunted as he dodged a blow that might have caved in his skull.

  Sorin grinned, his face alight with the joy of battle. “You haven’t,” he taunted.

  Their battle was fast and savage, moving from the porch to spill across Chloe’s small yard. They didn’t need weapons beyond their hands and feet and teeth, though so far they both held back from using their fangs because neither of them wanted to move in that close to the other. They moved faster than the human eye could follow, each blow unnaturally strong. Luca didn’t go for the death blows to the heart or head, but he deliberately maneuvered so they were moving farther and farther away from Chloe’s house.

  Sorin feinted with his right and Luca moved his left arm to block it, for a fraction of a second leaving his heart unguarded. Sorin’s left fist came in, faster than sight; Luca simply let his momentum keep him turning and he moved in closer, taking the blow on his right shoulder before Sorin’s punch could reach maximum force. The force of the blow rattled the teeth in his head, but he ignored the shock of impact and drove his elbow into Sorin’s solar plexus.

  Sorin wheezed and immediately retreated just out of reach. Luca leapt, taking advantage of Sorin’s momentary disadvantage, and slammed the big blond Romanian full force into a tree trunk. A lesser vampire would have been stunned into unconsciousness, but Sorin instinctively fought back, fought through his temporary daze. Seeing a brief opening, he took it, sliding away from the tree so he was no longer pinned between the trunk and Luca’s attack, gaining himself a second of relief.

  “Not bad, old man,” he said, needling Luca, trying to get under his skin. Human or vampire, battle tactics were the same.

  Luca gave a brief snort. The day “old” was an insult to a vampire was the day he’d know the world was at an end.

  Was Sorin holding back, too? His eyes were blazing with fierce pleasure, the same pleasure Luca had to admit to feeling. All too rarely did he have an opponent who could test his mettle, who gave him a real battle. In that respect, he and Sorin were much alike. They were, at heart, more at home on a battlefield, sword and ax in hand, pitting themselves against worthy opponents. Luca, at least, still had the occasional battle—such as with Enoch—but Sorin must be starved for the kind of competition that fed his soul. Was he deliberately prolonging the battle rather than trying to end it quickly?

  A kick to Luca’s side sent him reeling, but he recovered, rounded, came right back with a fist to Sorin’s face. The skin split and he felt the splash of blood on his hand. The scent of their blood filled the air, clear to Luca’s sensitive sense of smell. Sorin came in low and fast, catching Luca in the gut with his shoulder, and they fell to the ground together, rolling and punching. Sorin got his hand around Luca’s throat as they rolled across the grass, but Luca took advantage of the opening and drove his fist into Sorin’s chest, pulling the punch just enough to keep from stopping Sorin’s heart.

  Instinctively Sorin retreated from what could have been a death blow, throwing himself backward, then they were on their feet again and he was aiming for Luca’s chin with a savage uppercut. Luca did a backwards flip, the power of Sorin’s punch coming so close that he felt the wind of it on his face; the flip brought Luca around and up, coming in below Sorin’s guard and forcing him to fall back even more.

  This wasn’t accomplishing anything, he thought, his initial pleasure giving way to annoyance. He and Sorin could continue this way all night and into the morning—that is, if Sorin was able to tolerate sunlight, though at his age, with his strength, he probably was. They’d both be weaker beneath the sun, and the wounds that were inconsequential by moonlight would take on more meaning, more danger—plus a lot of humans would be out and about, and be witness to the battle of the supernaturals taking place on Chloe’s lawn. Sunrise was hours away, though, and while he’d rather question Sorin than kill him, if this continued much longer he might not have that choice.

  A wailing noise in the distance grabbed his attention, and he swore. Sirens. Dammit, Chloe had called 911.

  Sorin heard the noise, too. He backed away, breathing hard. The two of them surveyed each other. Both had been hurt to some degree, but their various wounds were already healing.

  “Why are you doing this?” Sorin asked angrily. “She’s just a human. We’re your own kind, you should be on our side.”

  “Why do you want her dead?” Luca countered, though he already knew; he simply wanted to see what Sorin would tell him.

  The sirens grew closer. Sorin backed farther away. “There’s something bigger going on than this little human. Stop wasting time with her.”

  “The uprising?” Luca made a scoffing sound in his throat.

  “Don’t laugh. We’re so much more than these miserable little humans, and you know it. We shouldn’t have to hide what we are, we shouldn’t have to sneak our food like a child sneaking cookies. Tell me one way, just one, that we’re inferior to humans. We aren