Night's Touch (Children of The Night 2)

With a wild cry, Vince launched himself at the husk that had been Anthony Loken and the two of them crashed to the floor.

Brenna hurried to Cara’s side. “Are you all right?”

Cara nodded, thinking she had never been so glad to see anyone in her whole life. Her mother untied her wrists and she groaned softly as blood rushed into her hands. Brenna made short work of the rope that bound Cara’s ankles, then effortlessly lifted Cara to her feet.

“Vince,” Cara murmured, horrified to see him locked in a deadly embrace with the creature. “We’ve got to do something!” She took a step forward, her own safety forgotten in fear for Vince’s life. No mortal man could overpower that thing!

Brenna grabbed her daughter’s arm. “No.”

“Let me go!” Cara struggled to free herself. She couldn’t stand by and watch him die. She just couldn’t!

“You will not interfere,” Brenna said, exerting her preternatural powers on her daughter for the first time. “You will do exactly as I tell you. Do you understand?”

Cara nodded, confused by her sudden lack of willpower. She wanted to go to Vince, to help him fight the creature, but she couldn’t move; she could only stand there, watching helplessly as he drove his fist into the creature’s face and body, seemingly with no effect at all.

She screamed when the creature picked up a crowbar and brought it crashing down on Vince’s back. She sobbed when Vince fell to the floor, certain that his back had been broken, only to watch in disbelief as he rolled nimbly to his feet and launched himself at the creature again.

Deciding that the battle had gone on long enough, Brenna pulled her lipstick from her skirt pocket and quickly drew a summoning circle on the floor. She didn’t know what kind of spell Anton had cast on the creature; all she could do was hope that her magic was stronger than his. Using an incantation she had learned as a child, she summoned the creature to the circle.

As she spoke the words, “So say I, so mote it be,” the creature slowly turned away from Vince. Moving woodenly, it stepped into the circle, then stood motionless, its empty eyes focused on Brenna.

“What the hell,” Vince murmured.

“I haven’t practiced my witchcraft in years,” Brenna said, smiling. “I’m glad it still works.”

“Yeah, me, too.” Vince looked at Cara, who stood there as motionless as the zombie. “What did you do to her?”

Brenna shrugged. “It was the only way to keep her from joining the fight.” With a snap of her fingers, she released Cara from her spell.

“Vince!” Cara ran to him, her hands lightly exploring his back. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”

“But he hit you with a crowbar!”

Vince shrugged. “It was just a glancing blow. I’m fine.” He studied the creature through narrowed eyes. “What are we going to do about that?”

“I’m going to send it back where it came from,” Brenna said, “and then we’ll get out of here.”

“You’re not going anywhere.”

Cara shuddered as Anton stepped into view, a gun in his hand.

“Well, now,” Anton drawled. “Isn’t this cozy?”

Vince took a step forward, his anger rising as he came face to face with the man responsible for putting Cara’s life in danger.

Anton leveled the gun at Cara’s head, his finger curled around the trigger. “I wouldn’t,” he warned. “Not unless you want her dead.”

Vince froze. “So,” he asked, his voice like ice, “where do we go from here?”

“First, you back off,” Anton said, gesturing with the gun. “And you…” He glanced at Brenna. “You release my father.”

“He’s not your father,” Brenna said. “Send him back to wherever your mother summoned him from.”

“Not yet.”

“You can’t kill me,” Brenna said in a reasonable tone. “So send the creature back where it belongs and let us go.”

Anton shook his head. “What do you take me for, a fool?”

Vince took another step forward. “Dammit…”

“Back off,” Anton said, cocking the pistol. “I’ll kill her, I swear I will.”

Vince glared at Anton. He was certain he could disarm Bouchard before the bastard could fire the gun and yet, what if he was wrong? He looked at Brenna, who shook her head, silently urging him to wait.

“You can’t win, Anton” Brenna said quietly. “No matter what you do, you’ll have to face me.”

“And me.” Roshan DeLongpre materialized in a shimmer of silver motes beside Brenna, his face taut with barely suppressed rage. “Put the gun down, Bouchard.”

Anton’s face paled as he stared at DeLongpre. The vampire’s face, only half-healed from the effects of the silver, was terrible to behold, but far worse was the look of retribution in the vampire’s eyes.

Anton looked into those eyes and knew he was a dead man. He looked at the thing that had been his father and knew he would find no help there.

“Let her go,” Roshan said.

Anton took a step backward, and then, shouting, “I’ll have my revenge,” he pointed the gun at Cara’s back, his finger tightening around the trigger.

Vince threw himself between Anton and Cara a heartbeat before Anton fired the gun, once, twice, three times.

Vince felt the bullets rip through flesh, piercing his heart and lungs. The impact drove him back against the wall. Momentarily stunned, he slid to the floor.

In the sudden silence that followed, Anton turned and bolted up the stairs.

Roshan glanced at Brenna, then went up the stairs after Bouchard.

“Vince! No, no! Vince!” Running toward him, Cara dropped down on her knees at his side, tears streaming down her cheeks as she stared at the dark red blood oozing from his chest. She eased his shirt over his head, her stomach roiling as she stared at the ragged holes in his flesh. Cradling his head to her breast, she rocked back and forth. He was dying and it was all her fault! But maybe he didn’t have to die.

Cara looked up at her mother, grateful for the first time in her life that her mother wasn’t like other mothers. “Mom, please,” she begged. “Do something!”

“I am,” Brenna said, lifting her wand. “I’m sending this creature back where it belongs.”

Cara stared at her mother in disbelief. How could her mother think about that creature when Vince was dying, perhaps dead already?