Dark, putrid blood sprang from the wound like a geyser and Ana jumped back, pulling the dagger from the hellhound’s chest as she did so. She’d hit pay dirt.
It scrambled, trying to get to its feet, and she sliced into its side, grunting savagely as the dagger scraped along each and every rib. The hellhound cried out and with a final heave managed to find its footing.
“Tenacious bitch, aren’t you,” she muttered under her breath as the animal glared at her. Its eyes still glowed fiery red, but the rasping that fell from its lips signaled she’d injured the beast and had done a good job of it.
It stumbled forward a few feet and then collapsed inches from her, raspy moans and growls falling from its trembling mouth. Ana gave it the boots, her heel connecting once more as she silenced it.
Her chest was heaving but there was no time to rest. She ducked as the third hellhound flew at her. It had waited patiently, watching from the shadows. Ana cursed, dropped, and rolled. The pain in her side was becoming sharper and she knew she was losing blood.
She needed to get to the kids and get the hell out.
An eerie sound drifted through the thick air and startled her. Declan? She hesitated, and it cost her.
The hellhound was on her in an instant and though she twisted her body she couldn’t avoid the hit. Her right arm was caught between herself and the beast, the dagger was pinned tight. Useless.
The animal stared down at her and a cry of frustration erupted from her throat. The hellhound blew hot air against her cheek and she thrashed violently, trying to unseat the bastard and avoid the deadly canines that dripped poison.
A hot sting inched across her face as drops fell from its mouth to land on her cheek. She managed to wriggle her arm up an inch but as she twisted her neck back, Ana knew the chances of avoiding the dangerous teeth were slim. Her side ached and she was losing a lot of blood.
She lunged forward, one last desperate attempt at attack, and fell back as the hellhound was flung from her body like a rag doll. Ana rolled over and staggered to her feet, her gaze wild as she circled the room.
What the hell?
A vortex of wind filled with hail the size of footballs spun like a tornado, surrounding the hellhound and holding it prisoner. She watched in awe as the fury of the wind lifted the large animal and slammed it against the wall. The hellhound was stunned, a ball of fur and mangy growls against the wall, and then it went still.
She clutched her side, took a step, and stopped as a voice cut through the mist.
“We’re over here.” It was young, on the cusp of change. Definitely a teenaged male with the high-pitched cracks to prove it.
Ana ran toward the voice and as the cool mist evaporated she came to a halt.
They were safe, bound to the wall with iron chains, but safe. The young girl, Francesca’s sister, stared at her in fear, and beside her was the boy. He looked to be no older than thirteen or fourteen at the most, yet his eyes were hard, his hands trembled at his side. He was on the small side, with a thick crop of inky black hair and skin as pale as hers.
“Is it down?” he asked, his voice rough. “Hurt bad?”
Ana rushed to their side and assessed the situation. She looked down at the boy. “The hellhound?”
He nodded as quick, hard breaths escaped from between his lips.
“You did that?”
Again, a nod.
“Impressive,” she answered with a quick smile.
“It won’t stay down for long,” he answered quickly. “Nothing does down here.”
Ana looked at the bloody dagger in her hands and eyed the two teenagers. “I’m getting you out, so listen closely. You do as I say, no questions asked, all right?”
“How do we know we can trust you?” The boy’s eyes narrowed.
Ana paused, her gaze settling on the girl. Her large eyes were full of pain, confusion. “Francesca sent me and I promised her I’d bring you home.”
A single tear wove its way down the teenager’s face and she began to tremble.
“You’re a vampire,” the boy said.
Ana retracted her fangs. “We don’t have time for chitchat.” Ana glanced at the heavy iron chains that bound them. “Don’t move.”