The murderous vampire can stay close by.

The circle becomes lined with dead wolves that don’t even have time to make a sound before they drop, and the rest whimper, whine, and start to retreat.

It’s now that I realize Arion is having to chase wolves that are running in fear from him—omegas feeling the alpha vampire threat in full.

He grabs me again, keeping me with him, and I hold onto his neck this time, looking back to see Damien holding his own now that he isn’t worrying about me. That means I’m safe with Arion, right?

Everything is so confusing. Emit said Arion would stab my back, and Damien is happy he’s here, content to leave me with him.

I’m dropped back to my feet as the vampire continues his joyful killing spree, laughing here and there like this is the best night of his life.

Wolves are coming from all sides of us, even now. Arion is mostly intercepting the ones going after Damien.

A naked man runs through the wolves, shouting as he fires a gun over and over and over at Arion.

Arion smirks, dodging each bullet effortlessly, but the man reloads as Arion toys with him, killing wolves here and there right in front of him. The man’s hands shake to get the new clip pushed in, eyes fearfully trained to the really enthused vampire.

That’s when his eyes turn to me and narrow, and he points the gun right at me. My breath hitches when I hear the bullets fire, but Arion appears in front of me before anything hits.

I hear him make a slightly pained sound as he tenses, and the bullets continue to fire and fire. The second the sound stops, Arion is gone, and I watch as the man falls in a headless heap to the ground.

Arion’s claws are extended as his eyes burn red and his chest bleeds from the multiple bullet wounds surrounding his heart. Seriously, I’m not sure how they die, but clearly they’re hard as hell to kill.

“Pity the fool who thought he could kill the vampire with a gun,” he chirps before he spits on the body.

He turns back into his killing-machine self, laughing once again, enjoying the bloodshed, as he works the circle around me.

Damien backs his way toward me, and I resist the urge to go to him.

Another chill creeps up my spine when I hear the howl in the far distance. This howl is different from all the others. It’s dark, hauntingly familiar, furious, and oh so close.

All the wolves tremble, scattering out from us, and turn to dart in that direction like they’re determined to keep fighting.

Just as a wolf launches itself at me from the back of the circle, a silver glint catches my eye, and a sword lands in the wolf’s chest, pinning it to the ground.

Vance Van Helsing lands in front of me in the next instant, yanking the sword out of the wolf, as he breathes heavily, eyes bright and pupils small like he’s someone else entirely.

Wolves scramble back from him just like they did Arion.

“Well, this brings back memories,” Arion chimes, as he carelessly and effortlessly rips out a couple of hearts like it’s his night job.

I can’t watch Arion fight. It’s too bloody, and his sounds of enjoyment are slightly terrifying.

Vance doesn’t acknowledge Arion. The Van Helsing starts slicing through the wolves that keep charging us.

“They want her,” Arion says close to my ear, breathing me in as his arm goes around my waist. “It’s like her blood drives them insane, and they want a taste. They think her to be our weakness they can exploit. Perfect lure,” he murmurs, dragging his lips up my throat and to my ear. “I’ll kill them all for making you bleed,” he adds in a quiet whisper just for me.

I’m not sure what anyone is supposed to say to that.

His idea of romantic gestures is really, really disturbing, and I never find the appropriate fear I should have in his presence.

I hold my silence, as he resumes enjoying the violence, while he pretends it’s some sort of vengeance for me. Whirling around, I spot Emit’s dark wolf as he boulders through a thick line of the wolves.

He backs his way to us, completing the circle around me. His tail is swishing in obvious agitation, and another vicious growl rumbles from his chest.

“San Rio Passage?” Damien asks, twirling his bloody sword as he glances over at Arion.

Arion smirks.

“This is a little bigger than San Rio passage,” Vance calls out absently. “And these are fucking pureblood omegas instead of human soldiers.”

“Should be easier,” Arion states as he picks up a discarded axe and twirls it. “We were just men then, and I had a bible instead of an appetite.”

As if they set up a cue I missed, all four of them lunge forward and go on the attack, widening the circle. Arion becomes a beast with an axe, his eyes fully pulsing red as his pupils try to disappear.

Me? I’m still working on remaining calm and not panicking, because I don’t want to accidentally kill one of them. At this point, I’m not really sure how to kill them, because they’ve been stabbed, shot, bitten, and a number of other things. However, I don’t trust my monster. I think it’d certainly try to find a way.

I stay in the middle of their circle, letting them work together like they’ve done this a thousand times, even though it sounds like they referenced a very ancient piece of their past.

Emit shreds through the wolves he can grab, but I notice a lot more are retreating.

Vance is smooth, lethal, and so eerily efficient, as he cuts through as many—or more—as Arion, putting them down without turning around to ensure they’re really dead. He’s confident they aren’t getting back up when he’s finished with them.

Damien’s energy seems to be waning, since he’s not been feeding all these years. Still, even as a starved alpha, he’s a force the wolves just can’t contend with.

It makes me wonder what he’s like at full charge.

I’m drenched in wet snow, and my teeth are chattering, as the slushy sleet picks up momentum. I feel the lacing in my bra tugging repeatedly, wanting to go to my injury.

Discreetly, I pull off my charms, tucking them in the pocket of Arion’s jacket, so the ribbons will hopefully give up their quest.

The winds whir and groan through the trees as the storm picks up momentum, and the wolves who remain are forced to watch their numbers too quickly dwindling.

Aside from a few stupidly determined stragglers, the rest take off.

Vance leaps over a pile of dead wolves and chases after some of them. My heart kicks my chest when he disappears from sight, and I worry that much more.

Fortunately, he walks back toward us as Arion beheads the last living wolf around us.

The vampire looks agitated about there not being more things to kill when he drops the axe to the ground.

“Find them?” Arion asks Vance.

“This fresh storm is stirring all their scents, and I’m not getting attached to a new hunt right now. Clearly it gives me tunnel vision,” Vance grinds out, eyes intent, as he quickly makes his way toward me.

I don’t have time to speak before he’s grabbing me at the waist and spinning me. I feel his gently probing touch on my one little injury.

My heart sinks a little when I see all the long scratches on Damien’s back and chest, as he drops to the ground, taking a much needed rest.

Pushing away from Vance, I go to Damien, lowering myself in front of him very slowly. My chest aches when I take in all the gaping wounds.

“Just flesh wounds,” he assures me tightly. “Let’s see them do that when I get back to my full power,” he adds a little bitterly.

“Why would you bring Violet to hunt a horde?” Arion asks everyone as I shiver again, easing closer to the battered illusionist to better assess his damage. “And why the bloody hell would you leave Damien to defend her on his own?”

“Fuck you,” Damien says to Arion.

I exhale harshly, as Emit shifts close to us. He stands on two legs once more, staring out at the woods with fury etched in every feature on his face.

“Since when do fucking purebloods form a horde?” Vance asks quietly.

“Since the alpha of this region takes a few centuries off from his duties to be the fun alpha,” Arion cuts in.

I walk inside, wondering if I have enough suture kits for all their wounds, since no one bothered to pack any healing potions.

Chapter 12

VIOLET

Damien hisses out a breath of pain but doesn’t move as I tirelessly work on closing the last big wound on his back.

Emit hasn’t said a word. He’s just been silently stewing across the room, staring out the window like the wolves may come back.

“Purebloods swarming in hordes is a new one on me,” Arion states as he gets a glass of whiskey. “Thought I’d lived too long to see new shit.”

Vance is already sipping a drink of his own, as he strips out of his shirt, flinching just barely.

I see the puncture wounds on his right arm, along with a few other ripped bite wounds.

“Technology is advancing and they’re taking advantage,” Emit says quietly.

“Can I ask what’s going on yet, or will I just be a distraction right now?” I ask quietly as I finish up with Damien’s back and move around to kneel between his legs.

The back of Damien’s hand brushes my cheek, as Emit releases a frustrated breath.

“Purebloods are born when wolves have children together,” Emit explains, even though I’ve already deduced that much.

I’m not a complete idiot.

“Most all of them are born omegas. They’re different from regular wolves in many ways,” Damien adds as I continue to work on patching up his torso.

“You have threading abilities, no?” Arion asks like he’s pointing out I’m doing this the hard way.

“I don’t think you want me sewing you up that way. I don’t sew pretty at all, but it’s really not pretty that way,” I absently explain.

Damien continues just to stare at me as I work, and Vance speaks from behind me.

“Because of their subtle scent, you don’t realize they’re purebloods until they bleed,” Vance is saying like he’s annoyed. “Kill one, and they all get riled. It’s a toxic byproduct of their blood.”

“Pardon the confusion, but until I fucking killed one and got a whiff of the blood, I had no idea what the hell I was dealing with,” Damien bites out. “You’re the ones who came here to track a small pack of unregistered wolves with no idea there was a fucking horde at all.”

“How could I have possibly anticipated the impossible?” Emit grinds out.

“Hordes turn feral and lose the ability for intelligent thinking. Usually, they’re guided by a few of the horde leaders after that point,” Vance explains to me.

“They were still a fresh horde and capable of thought,” Damien argues. “I learned at least that much, and I studied them after I saw their reactions to the first one I put down.”

“Drew,” I say, looking up.

I notice them all giving me a quizzical look.