Nicholas adjusted her dress, pulling it apart enough that one breast was fully exposed and her undergarments fell away completely. As her heart pounded violently, visible in the vibration of her breast, reverberating through her limbs like a stampede, he used the knife tip to draw a light circle around her areola. A tiny bead of blood dripped down one side, merging into the first slice he'd made down her torso. It burned and stung, but she hardly noticed the pain. She feared it was nothing compared to what was to come.
"There was once a very powerful woman of my kind," her tormentor said conversationally, "who was fond of the combined ecstasy and pain she would experience from touching something so powerful" -he indicated the holy strength amulet by lifting it from her skin with the tip of the knife, pulling the upper lip of her navel taut- "while taking her pleasure. Feasting and feeding and whatnot. I've always wondered what that might be like. If I would enjoy it myself. "
Then he lunged. His hand planted heavily on her belly, covering her vis bulla as he plunged his fangs roughly into the juncture of neck and shoulder. Macey jolted and screamed as he punctured her skin, felt the exploding release of blood surging from her veins.
His mouth was horrible: one lip hot and the other cold, each sensation revoltingly distinct. They fastened on her skin as he sucked deeply from her. The m-kuh, m-kuh, m-kuh sound of him drawing in and swallowing filled her ears in a horrible rhythm, like the heartbeat of death.
Macey could feel the life draining from her, her strength ebbing, the smell of her own blood, the fainter scent of burning flesh. His weight forced her into the seat, into the foulness of the other vampires who held her, his hand pressing, burning into her belly as the vis seared his palm.
The sound of shattering glass filled the air, and pieces rained down inside the auto. Everything turned to chaos, and in the midst of it Macey tumbled to the floor.
She landed on her pocketbook again, which shocked her into action, but by then a dark arm had jackknifed in and slammed into one of her captors. The vampire who'd held her feet burst into foul-smelling ash, and just as she grappled her stake out of the bag, that same strong hand grabbed her and she was plucked from the auto.
She caught a glimpse of Chas's face-dark, livid, and intense-as he yanked her past him and fairly tossed her to the ground. He dove back into the car, smooth and dark and powerful, extracting another figure. His new combatant fought with sharp punches and a head-butt. But Chas took the head-butt on his temple and flung the undead against the side of the auto. With one low, upward thrust, he held the vamp by the neck and rammed a stake up through shirt and vest, driving it into his heart. Just as the vampire poofed into nothing, the vehicle leapt forward, its door slamming closed from the sudden velocity. Chas jumped back as the tires squealed, and the auto blazed into the night.
By the time Chas turn to try and find , and 7Ved to her, Macey had pulled to her feet. Panting and trembling, she held her unused stake. Her knees wobbled and she wasn't certain she could even form the words to thank him.
"I. . . " She swallowed, realized her dress was literally hanging off her, and pulled the fragments closed.
"Good God. " He whipped off his coat and wrapped it around her shoulders far more gently than she'd anticipated.
"Chelle. Oh my God, they have Chelle," she managed to choke. She swayed and grabbed at a tree, but nevertheless managed a few desperate, staggering steps after the auto.
Chas looked at her, his mouth curving down as he caught her arm to steady her-and pull her back from the chase. "There's nothing to be done now. " He hesitated, then said, "Let's go. You need. . . hell, you need everything. "
Chas had no choice but to take Macey back to his rooms. He didn't even consider bringing her to The Silver Chalice. Vioget certainly couldn't see her like this, half naked and with blood everywhere.
Hell, Chas shouldn't even see her like this-at least the half-naked part. At least, not yet. He smiled grimly to himself.
His small flat was conveniently situated on the top floor of a carriage house right next to St. Anselm's Church. What better place for a vampire hunter to live than in the shadow of a holy place?
Chas unlocked the door and Macey stumbled in, still clutching his coat around her shoulders. He had given it to her for modesty just as much as his own self-preservation. The flash of breast and belly, even covered with blood as they were, had been burned into his mind's eye.
This is probably not your best decision ever, Woodmore.
But when he closed the door and turned on a lamp, getting his first good look at her, whatever lewd thoughts he might have harbored disintegrated.
He'd seen worse. On the dead.
"I. . . " She swayed and allowed her knees to buckle. Fortunately, the sofa was behind her and she sank into it. And, by God, she was still holding her stake. Despite everything else, he had to give her kudos for that.
First things first. "Let me see what they did to you. "
She peeled the coat away from the blood congealing on her neck and shoulders while keeping it modestly over the rest of her torso. Her glossy black hair was crusted with blood and wild with curls that made her look as if she'd just been well fucked. And the way the coat bared her slender white shoulders was more than a little tempting.
But Chas wasn't thinking about that-he was looking at the four to try and find , and 7Vugly gouges in her throat. Larger than a normal bite, they were angled and deep, already turning black and crusty around the edges. On anyone other than a Venator, those types of wounds would have been fatal-or worse. Fortunately, he'd arrived in time, or Nicholas Iscariot would have marked her for good.
But unfortunately, Nicholas had been the one vampire Chas hadn't had the chance to slay before the auto careened off down the street, narrowly missing his foot. Damn and blast.
"This is going to sting. " He felt her brace herself, and he poured a generous helping of holy water in one fast deluge. It was best to get it over with quickly.
When the water hit her wounds, Macey arched and hissed sharply, biting her lip as she turned away to hide her face. Her breathing turned into panting, but there was nothing to be done to alleviate the pain until the blessed water did its work.
So Chas stood and set some water to warming over the stove, then located a cloth and one of his few shirts without bloodstains. His fury simmered well beneath the surface, where he intended to keep it-at least for a while longer. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"
She looked up at him, those velvety brown eyes even larger than usual, and shook her head. "Not. . . like that. " At least some life had
come back into her expression.