It wasn’t going to be enough. He was simply far too strong for me.
One of the three remaining threads grew taut and then snapped. The force of it rebounded through me, making my body shake and my head pound. Instinct and desperation had me reaching for Belle, and a heartbeat later, she was with me, as one with me, her power and her knowledge mine to use. I threw everything we had at the final two spell lines, quickly bolstering their ability to resist. Then I pulled one hand away and uttered a simple spell, one designed to do nothing more than knock the vampire off his feet. Hopefully, it would be enough to shatter his concentration and stop—however briefly—his unrelenting attack.
I said the final line of the incantation and then cast it forward, physically and mentally. A heartbeat later there was a loud grunt, and the black force shredding our magic dissipated. I took a deep, shuddering breath, and felt Belle do the same. I quickly released her and instantly felt the weakness run like water through my limbs. I closed my eyes and leaned my forehead on the door. But I couldn’t stop feeding the thread lines yet—the vampire was still out there. I could feel him. Feel his evil and determination. Any minute now, he would pick himself up and resume his attack….
The sharp sound of sirens cut through the air, and relief surged. Aiden and his rangers were coming; if our vampire had any sense, he would not hang around.
“You win a second round, witch.” The voice was deep, well-modulated, and so damn close he had to be standing on the other side of the door. “But the next round will be mine.”
I didn’t reply. I couldn’t. The waves of hatred and corruption seeping through the door that separated us were all but suffocating me.
He left—something I knew only by the sudden ability to breathe clean air. A sob escaped, and tears of relief and exhaustion started coursing down my cheeks.
Outside, tires squealed as several trucks skidded to stop. Doors opened and footsteps echoed.
“Lizzie?” Aiden said. “Are you there? Are you okay?”
“Yes. Go after him. I’m fine.”
“Duke, take care of this scum. Mac, you’re with me.”
Footsteps departed. I took a deep breath and—using the door as a brace—pushed to my feet.
Belle? You okay?
Yeah. Her response was immediate, if weak. I’ve been keeping the thug immobile.
Fuck, you should have released your hold on him the minute I—
And let him run? she bit back. No fucking way. He was paid a measly grand to shoot the two of us—the bastard’s obviously too stupid to be allowed to roam the streets alone. He’s lucky I only froze his movements rather than erase what little intelligence he actually has.
It was a threat that spoke volumes about the level of her anger. Making someone little more than a vegetable theoretically could be done by strong enough telepath—and she was certainly that—but it would be a very dangerous action for her to take. While I had no idea if the witch creed of harming no others would bleed over to her psychic abilities, it was certainly a possibility. And a risk I’d rather she not take.
A sharp knock on the door made me jump. I sucked in air in an effort to calm my shattered nerves and then said, “Yes?”
“It’s Ranger Tala Sinclair. Open up.”
I tied up the ends of the strengthening spell to stop it leeching any more energy from me, and then looked through the newly created peephole in the door. Tala wasn’t alone—the shorter of the two IIT men accompanied her, as did a woman I didn’t recognize.
I wasn’t going to greet any of them wearing a T-shirt that barely covered my butt.
“Hang on while I go grab some clothes.”
I bolted upstairs, pulled on an old pair of track pants, and then returned to open the door.
“I believe you’ve already met Officer Blume.” Tala’s voice and expression were carefully neutral. “But let me introduce you to Anna Kang, a representative from the Regional Witch Association.”
Anna was a middle-aged woman possessing what could be describ
ed as the typical features of the Kang line of royal witches—an oval face, high cheekbones and a prominent nose, and mono-lidded eyes. Her hair was as vivid as mine, but cut extremely short.
Given her heritage, it was rather interesting that she was working for the RWA, as it was a position that normally wouldn’t be considered suitable for someone of the Kang line. They tended to be mystics more than spell casters, believing that everything in this world—be it flesh, earth, or plant—had a spirit associated with it, and that interaction and understanding with that spirit was necessary if witches wished something done.
But there were always outliers, witches born to royal lines who didn’t live up to family expectations. Perhaps she was another of them.
She held out her hand, and after a moment, I clasped it. Energy stirred, brief but probing—hers stronger than mine. No surprise there. Even if I had been at full strength rather than shaking with fatigue, the result probably wouldn’t have altered.
I broke contact and moved aside. “Please, come in out of the cold.”