Author: Kalayna Price

“Babe, ghosts don’t bleed.” He reached out, and I cringed as first, the chill of his magic, and then, his finger, landed on my skin.

He scraped his nail down the dried blood, leaving a slimy trail of magic on my wrist. Then he stepped back, staring at the flake of blood he’d freed.

“Oh, now this is interesting,” he whispered, the tingle of magic around him rising. “Come on. You’re going with me.”

“What? Where?”

“We’re going to find me a body,” he said as a small globe of magic materialized around the flake of blood. “And on the way, we’re going to track down your ghost snake.”

* * * *

Avin led me on a winding route through the streets of Demur, stopping occasionally to stare at the floating fleck of snake blood. I tried to slip away. Once. And only once. When I regained consciousness, blood dripped down my neck from my ear. After that, I trudged behind him silently. Avin might not intend to kill me—at least not until I acquired him a body—but if I pushed him, he might rip me to pieces from the inside out. I couldn’t help Nathanial if Avin incapacitated me and left me to disintegrate in the morning sun.

Not that I know what I can do to help Nathanial.

I couldn’t exactly attack the mansion. Any one of the master vamps inside could stop me without lifting a finger. If we find the snake… maybe the Collector would listen to me if I brought her proof. Of course, the stars only knew Avin’s interest in the snake, and if there’d be anything left for me to take to the Collector.

We turned a corner, and the scent of wolf washed over me. Not a Firth wolf. The city-shifter, Steven. On my next breath, the wind carried the scent of bobcat to me. And Bobby.

I stopped, looking around. They were close. Very close.

“Babe, what’s the hold-up? Keep moving,” Avin said, letting the globe of my blood flash in his hand.

I winced, falling in step behind him again. But my eyes scanned the street, my nose sifting through the scents. The only living soul we’d run into was a hobo with a bloated nose who was, in Avin’s words, “Too unappealing.” I did not want to know what he’d think of Bobby, with his broad shoulders and predator attitude.

But I was out of time to divert Avin.

Bobby and Steven turned the corner at a dead run. I’d last left them tracking the snake from Justin’s murder scene—apparently both our trails led here. Bobby’s eyes landed on me—how could he miss me in my ridiculously poofy ball gown—and his path veered straight toward me.

“Now, this is more like it,” Avin said, drawing up short.

“Either of these bodies will suit me fine.”

“No.”

Avin cocked his misshapen head. “Babe, we’ve been through this.”

I winced as he lifted his hand, but I whispered through gritted teeth, “They’re shapeshifters.”

“Really?” He turned back to where Bobby and Steven were running toward us. “Well, I’m not prejudiced.”

Damn. I’d really hoped the whole not-human thing would discourage him.

As Bobby ran to me his gaze skidded over my posture, the dried blood covering my arms, and the fresh blood dripping from my ear. Then he did what any shifter would do for his Dyre or Torin. He planted himself between me and Avin. He didn’t ask if I needed help. He didn’t even take a second look at me. He just moved to my defense. Steven followed, looking bewildered.

Bobby’s weight shifted to his back leg as he crouched, preparing to attack. He’d correctly identified the enemy—if only that would help.

Avin’s hood slid back as he examined Bobby. Both Bobby and Steven sucked in their breaths at the sight of Avin’s mangled face. Not that the living-dead mage appeared to notice. “Oh, this one is perfect.” Avin’s eyes flickered from Bobby to me. “I’ll take him. Now.”

Crap.

“Bobby, grab the globe—!”

Pain slammed into me, tore me to pieces. Through the red haze, I saw Bobby turn, but I couldn’t hear anything but my own scream ringing in my ears.

Blackness filled my vision as the fire burrowed deeper, filled my lungs. The very air felt like it had combusted, igniting my body, boiling my blood. I couldn’t move, couldn’t think.

Then it was over.

Calloused hands lifted my shoulders and the world lurched.

The hands shook me, the fingers biting into bare skin still remarkably unburned, still attached. My eyes flew open.

Steven’s face snapped into focus, and Bobby’s coat flashed in my peripheral. I turned in time to see his arm jerk back.

His fist landed in Avin’s face with a crunch.

The mage hobbled back, and the slimy tingle of his magic filled the air. Bobby had smashed Avin’s right eye-socket, so only one, blood-clouded eye swiveled to glare at me. He held up his hand, and something appeared in his fingers. The globe. My stomach tightened as I braced for pain, but a crooked smile lifted the corner of Avin’s torn lip. Then he vanished.

I squeezed my eyes shut. He still had my blood. He wouldn’t be gone long.

Steven shook me again, forcing my attention back to him.

“We’ve got company.” He nodded over my shoulder.

I twisted, straining muscles still tight with the memory of pain.

The door to an old warehouse hung open, and a man wearing only dark pants clung to the door frame, his hand extended like he was reaching for something. His dark eyes locked on mine, and a tingle ran down my spine. Magic tinged the air. Another mage?

“That’s him,” Steven whispered. “The musk scent. It’s coming from him.”

No way. I pushed to my feet. “He’s a mage.”

Bobby was breathing hard after his fight with Avin, but he appeared unharmed. He tilted his head back, his nostrils flaring, and he nodded. “Steven is right. The smell is coming from that man. He’s the skinwalker.”

The mage grimaced, his fist closing like he was snatching at smoke. His magic rushed around me, and I tensed, but nothing happened. He jerked as if stung, and his hand dropped. He strolled onto the sidewalk. He never looked away. I rubbed my arms, the sting of both Avin and the mage’s magic tainting the air. The stink of snake musk was definitely wafting from the newcomer’s direction but…?

“You feel it, right?” I whispered. “Him using magic?”

Bobby frowned at me, which was answer enough. Only I felt it. Okay. I rolled my shoulders. There were three of us and only one of him. And if he really was the skinwalker I’d fought in the mansion, he had to be hurt. My claws had done damage.

“Ready?” I whispered, splaying my claws. I centered my weight and waited. I could cross the street in two heartbeats.

How fast was the mage?

“What are we doing?” Steven stepped closer to me, right into my personal space.

I bristled. I didn’t know Steven well, had never fought beside him, and he was too close. I could smell the stink of sweat under his layers of clothing. Sour sweat that smelled of fear, not exertion. He was scared, and his beast had latched on to me as the resident alpha. Great, I can’t make a dog sit, but I’ve managed to adopt a city-shifter. Which meant I was responsible for keeping him out of danger.

“Just stay back,” I said, without tearing my eyes away from the mage.

Steven didn’t move, but Bobby joined me. “Do we have a plan?”

“Yeah.” I said. “Nobody die.”

Chapter Thirty

I made it halfway across the street before the mage moved from the doorway. I was fast. He was faster.

Within two of my running strides, he crossed the distance between us. I barely registered the movement. Then he was in front of me, his fist angling toward my face.

I dropped, diving out of the way. In mid-movement, I twisted, swiping with my claws. I grazed his forearm, but he was there one moment and yards away the next. I blinked.

Bobby hadn’t even reached us yet. A heartbeat, maybe two, had passed.

How can he be that damn fast?

He charged again, and I lashed out. Missed. A blow I didn’t see slammed into my chest, knocked me back. I crouched, ignoring the sting spreading across my torso. Bobby reached my side, Steven on his heels.

The mage’s movements blurred, and Steven yelped as the mage flung him backward. I didn’t have time to turn, to see where Steven landed. I was too busy diving out of the way as the mage focused on me, again.

I ducked under the next blow, lunging forward at the mage’s unguarded chest. He darted behind me before my claws reached his skin. Behind me, the crack of a bone snapping sounded, and Bobby grunted in pain.

Dammit. There were three of us fighting him. How can we be losing?

I whirled around and aimed my strike too far to the right, while feinting left. The mage plowed into my claws. Finally.

He jumped back, hissing. Fangs flashed.

Vampire?

I backpedaled. “What the hell are you?” For once it was me asking, not being asked. But really? Magic, snake musk, and vamp fangs? A mage turned vamp and possessing the magic to use a skinwalker’s stolen skin?

“I’m the rightful Master of New Brennan. The Collector and her pathetic freaks stole my city,” he said, his voice hissing between his fangs. “and you, freak, are fucking up my revenge.” He lunged.

I twisted away, but not fast enough. His fangs tore into my shoulder with a flash of white pain. No pleasure overshadowed the pain. Not a single pulse of anything beyond the average horrific animal bite.

He’s a soldier vamp—no mental powers.

“Get off!” I struggled in his grasp, but he was stronger.

His grip tightened, locking my arms to my sides, pinning my claws. I flailed, kicking my feet. My efforts did no good.

His fangs ripped deeper, nicking at my shoulder joint.

Somewhere, not far away, tires crunched over pavement.

The mage went rigid. He screamed, his head rearing back in agony. His fangs tore from my flesh, and he hurled me away from him. What? I’d lost a lot of blood and probably had never reclaimed enough from Nathanial to start with, so my landing lacked any cat-like grace. My feet slid and my arms windmilled. I hit the pavement, but I kept my legs under me.