Heir of Night (The Thorne Hill)

“I can manage half a block,” I press and pull on my jacket. The temperature has dropped in the short amount of time I’ve been in The Taproom, and a cool breeze greets us as soon as we step out. Out of habit, I look up to see the stars, forgetting they’re hardly visible in the city.

There’s a decent amount of people out, feeling spring fever as badly as I am, despite the drop in temperature. It’s about this time every year when I question why I live in the Midwest. There are hot spots along the Ley line in the south, after all. Though, really, I love my little town, and even though Chicago left a sour taste in my mouth for many years, I like being this close and having the ability to come and go from small town to city living with ease.

We turn a corner, and I notice a guy pacing along the sidewalk a few yards from us. He has his hood up, hands in his pockets, and gives off a bad vibe. Melinda notices too and puts her hand out, stopping Abby from walking forward.

“Hey,” the guy says gruffly and comes over. “I don’t wanna do this.” His eyes twitch. “He’s going to kill me if I don’t give him the money,” he mutters to himself. “I won’t hurt you. Just give me what you got.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” I let out a sigh. “Look, asshole, you picked the wrong group of seemingly innocent women to prey upon, and I’ve already had a long, fucking night, and I don’t care who you owe your drug money to.”

The guy attempting to mug us thrusts his hand in his pocket forward, trying to make it look like he has a gun. “He’s gonna kill me,” he mutters again. “I need your money.”

“And if you leave it up to me, I’ll snap my fingers and turn you inside out.” I hold up my hand, rubbing my thumb over my fingers, summoning hellfire instead of my usual string of blue magic, which was what I was going for. “Or I could let my friends take their turns with you. See that pretty blonde over there? She could rip your still-beating heart right out of your chest before you can blink your eyes. And her?” I turn my head slightly toward Melinda. “She could beat your ass so badly you’ll be crying for your mama. And my sister? She’s a doctor and can kill you and make it look like natural causes. No one will ever suspect anything.”

Melinda already has a large dagger out—different from the knife she had before—brandishing it under the light of the streetlamp. Where she pulled that thing from, I have no fucking clue. The mugger can’t take his eyes off the fire I’m holding in my hand and starts slowly shaking his head back and forth. He backs away and makes a move to run.

“Not so fast.” Eliza speeds froward and grabs him by the throat, shoving him against the wall of a building. “I’ve had just about enough from men like you.” He thrashes against her, but she easily holds him in place. “Go on home, girls. I’m hungry.” With no hesitation, Eliza bites the guy’s neck and sucks a mouthful of blood.

The guy screams, and in a move I’m sure she’s done hundreds of times before, Eliza forces his chin up, closing his mouth, and turns his head away. Abby’s eyes bulge, and she stands there transfixed. She’s not squeamish in the least since she’s an ER doctor, yet seeing a vampire feed can be startling.

“Is it always that violent?” she asks quietly as Eliza shoves the guy against the wall again. Blood drips down his side.

“Not for me,” I tell her and take her hand. Eliza is clearly fine on her own, and I want to get home so I can figure out what the fuck happened with Elena, and then I need to scream for Julian to get his feathery butt down here and help me deal with War.

Fucking War.

“Let’s go.”

“And just leave her?” Abby stammers.

“She’s got it from here,” Melinda quips. “Unless she gets caught.”

Eliza pulls her mouth back and wipes a drop of blood that’s rolling down her bottom lip. “I never get caught. I was taught by the best.”

“Can’t she do that memory thing?” Abby whispers.

“Not yet,” I tell her. “But I can.”

Eliza sucks a final mouthful of blood and steps aside, holding the guy against the wall with one hand. She doesn’t put pressure on the wounds like Lucas does, and blood continues to run down the guy’s neck.

“Crazy bitches,” he stammers, reaching up to clamp his hand over the bite.

“Do your thing,” Eliza tells me. Looking around to make sure no one is watching, I step forward and grab the guy’s wrist. I find his pulse point, close my eyes, and focus. Once I’m in his mind, I open my eyes and stare right at him.