The Vampire Voss (Regency Draculia #1)(40)
Author: Colleen Gleason

“Can we get out here?” she asked as she reached the window.

Ella had frozen in place. “It’s them,” she whispered, her eyes so wide Angelica was certain they’d pop from her skull. “They’re here! In the day!” Then she gasped and pointed down. “You’re bleeding!”

Angelica’s bloodied foot slipped on the stretch of wooden floor as she worked to unhinge the shutter. “That’s the least of our worries,” she snapped. “Can you help me?”

Where was Voss? Was he in the midst of the fight? Or was he not even here?

“Oh, lordy, lordy,” Ella said, grabbing the towel and thrusting it at Angelica. “Wipe it up! Quick, before they—”

She stopped with a little scream as something slammed into the door. The wooden slats bowed and creaked threateningly.

“Who is it?” Angelica shouted to Ella, who was doing nothing but gaping. The shutter released, opening so hard it rebounded against the wall and then back against her temple. Ignoring the unexpected pain, she yanked on the heavy window frame as she stood in tepid sunshine.

The door protested again under another, more ferocious onslaught, and Angelica gave a brief thought to the possibility that Voss might be the one attempting to gain entrance…but, no—surely if it were him, he’d be shouting at her to let him in.

At last, the window opened, and Angelica stuck her head out into the warm sunshine to look down…and down.

Blast! The street was two levels below, and she couldn’t see any way to—

There was a loud splintering sound behind her and Ella screamed again. Angelica turned, her heart in her throat, and reached for the poker. The door sagged and she could see two powerful arms reaching through a ragged hole, and just then, a booted foot smashed through near the bottom.

With no other choice, she rushed toward them, swinging the poker, slamming it at the fingers as they tore, bare-handed, at the iron-bound wood. She smashed the poker against one arm and then used its pointed end to stab at the other, then down at the foot kicking at the large hole.

Nothing seemed to stop the intruders; they kept ramming against the weakening door and Angelica tried to fight them back…but only moments later the pieces of wood fell away and two men burst into the room.

Angelica had the impression of hulking figures, burning eyes and the gleam of feral smiles. For a moment, she lost her breath, freezing in fear. But when one of them grabbed Ella and the other lunged for Angelica, she came back to life and swung her poker.

Her cut foot slipped again and she nearly lost her balance, but the poker met its mark, slamming into the side of the fiery-eyed man who reached for her. The blow didn’t seem to affect him, and he shoved the metal rod away as if it were a twig, sending Angelica skidding aside as Ella’s screams filled the room.

Somehow, Angelica managed to evade the grasping hands and dive under the bed. She lost the poker in the process, and huddled in the corner, frantically trying to think of an escape. If she could get past him and dash toward the doorway….

Suddenly, the bed rose, lifted straight above her, and then flew against the wall. Wooden pieces and bedding crashed in all directions, raining on her and giving her a moment in the flurry to dash to her feet.

She stepped on glass and tripped over a sheet, staggering against a piece of splintered bed frame. Terror gripped her as she fell and one of her attackers moved, trapping her where she crouched in the corner.

He paused, looking down at her as if to give her fear a chance to build. A tall man with broad shoulders and a long face, he had the glowing eyes she’d come to recognize as belonging to the vampirs. His hair was short and thick and curling, and he might have been considered attractive if it weren’t for the wildness of his smile, the pointed length of two of his teeth, and the murderousness in his eyes. And what looked like a streak of blood on his jaw.

Oh, God, help me.

Those eyes bored into her as a half smile twitched his lips, and he waited as if trying to lull her. Meanwhile, his chest rose and fell as if his own anticipation was heightened.

Angelica realized at that moment that silence had fallen. Even Ella was quiet. The only noise was her own gasping breaths and a soft, eerie gurgling sound that made the hair on her arms rise.

Something heavy and metallic-scented filled the air, and in that frozen moment, she realized it was blood. Lots of blood.

A horrified gasp escaped her and her fingers groped for something on the floor—a broken bottle, a piece of the bed, a pillow—anything. Her hand slipped through the puddle of blood gathering beneath her foot, roaming over the uneven wooden planks.

“Woodmore,” said the vampire. “Art thou Woodmore’s sister?” He stepped closer. “Speak now, or meet thy fate.”

A flicker of his attention to the opposite side of the room tricked her into looking there, where Ella lay half-sprawled across the tilted dressing table. The other intruder bent over her, his hand curled up into her hair. She’d stopped screaming and fighting, and even in her quick glance, Angelica saw the faint twitching of her feet and one hand. Blood stained the front of her gown and tinged her fingers.

“I am,” Angelica whispered, hoping that was the proper thing to say. The answer that would save her life…or gain her some time until Voss arrived.

Where was Voss?

“Chas Woodmore’s sister?” the man demanded in a voice that could only be described as disappointed. “The hunter?”

Hunter. Suddenly something snapped in Angelica’s mind—a vague memory crystallizing into a surge of hope. Stories from her childhood.

A stake. Right. A wooden one. Where? In the…in the heart.

“Yes,” she said to him as much as to herself. Yes, that was how the story went. Not the metal poker; that wouldn’t help. But wood.

A piece of the bed.

Now she felt blindly on the floor with purpose.

His eyes bored into her and she felt a surge of fear. He looked as if he wanted to tear her into pieces. His smile revealed two sharp incisors and as his grin widened, she saw that his teeth and gums were stained red.

With blood.

“Methinks you lie,” he said. A hand swung down and grabbed at her, but before he could drag her to her feet, an emphatic No! erupted from the corner. The grip released and she sagged back onto the floor.

He turned to glower at his companion, who, as Angelica watched, dumped the bloody mess that was Ella onto the ground. It landed in the faint square of sunlight. In the moment of distraction, she found what she sought and her sticky fingers closed around a splinter of wood.