Out for Blood
Page 40

 Alyxandra Harvey

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I kneed the Hel-Blar in the groin and then used my free arm to drive my elbow into the back of his neck. Already doubled over, he staggered and folded further.
Right into my upraised stake.
The force of his flailing body drove me to my knees, and then I was alone with the ashes drifting into the grass and the bloodstained stake. I dropped it, scrubbing my palms clean in a pile of fallen leaves.
“Three down.” I pushed to my feet. “Not bad.” I dusted my shirt off, grimacing. “But I’m going to smell like soggy mushrooms for the rest of the night.”
“Did that seem kind of easy to you?” Nicholas wondered out loud.
“Easy? Are you smelling the smell?”
“Seriously. Didn’t they seem tired to you?”
I frowned. “I guess they could have fought harder. It’s not like they laid down and died for us like that chick at the school though.”
A flock of birds winged into the sky in the near distance, interrupting us with their excited squawking. We exchanged a knowing glance, breaking into a run. Nothing tired out the Hel-Blar like fighting or feasting. And both would disturb a flock of sleeping birds.
We ran harder. The wind pushed at my face with cool fingers. Our feet barely touched the ground, broke no twigs, made no sound to betray our presence.
What gave us away was the shocked sound both Nicholas and I made, abandoning all of our training in two choked curses.
It was hard to stay stealthy when you stumbled across your baby sister, ankle-deep in a mountain stream, red-pupiled, fangs flashing, and stakes flying from her fingertips.
Hel-Blar clicked their jaws at her from both banks, blue-tinged as poison beetles. She looked our way. Either she didn’t have the time to recognize us or we’d really pissed her off.
One stake whistled toward us, then another.
“Solange, no!” I yelled.
Nicholas was too busy running forward, heedless of the stake aimed at his heart.
Because Lucy lay at Solange’s feet, sprawled over the black river pebbles, her blood leaking like red ribbons into the water.
Chapter 16
Hunter
Later Saturday night
I texted Quinn on my way to the infirmary to let him know I was safely on campus. Chloe was standing right inside the door, a bandage under her T-shirt and another one on her forearm. She was pale and her pupils were dilated but otherwise she seemed all right.
“I feel good,” she said, weaving on her feet. Her smile went decidedly goofy. “Theo’s nice.”
“Theo gave you painkillers.” I was relieved to see she was fine.
“Yup. Better than vitamins. Better than candy.” She sounded shocked. And she was slurring her speech.
“Sit down before you fall on your face.” I nudged her gently into a chair.
She poked her bandage. “Do I have a ghost arm now? Can’t feel it.”
“Stop that,” I told her. “Or it’ll hurt like hell tomorrow.”
“ ’Kay.”
“If you start drooling I’m taking pictures.”
“ ’Kay.”
I was grinning at her when the shouting started. I leaped forward just as the curtain to the back examination rooms swung open. Will thundered toward me. I was surprised enough just to stand there and stare at him. He was faintly blue, his eyes bloodshot. It didn’t really register at first. Theo and Jenna were behind him and so was Spencer, holding a cloth to his neck. The cloth was rapidly turning red, almost as rapidly as he was turning white.
“Stake him!” Theo shouted at me. There was a long hypodermic needle in his hand. “Stake him now, Hunter!”
“What?” I had the stake in my hand. I was close enough to reach him. I was also frozen. “Are you kidding?”
“Now!” All three of them yelled in unison. It was enough to get me moving. So was Will, lunging at me, saliva dripping off his fangs. When did he grow fangs? There was mottled bruising on his neck and two festering puncture wounds. Jenna threw a tube of antibiotic ointment, hitting the alarm button on the wall. Help was coming.
But not fast enough.
“Shit!” I yelled, because I had to yell something. Will was wearing one of those hospital paper gowns, with the same tousled hair as always, the same earnest face. He was the class sweetheart for every class, even if they weren’t in his year. He was nice to everyone. He wouldn’t hurt a fly, which made vampire hunting problematic. But his parents wouldn’t hear of him dropping out. So he did the best he could and immersed himself in the Science Department, where there was less actual fighting.
He was the one who asked the shy girls hiding in the corner to dance at school functions.
And now he was the one hissing at me.
Definitely not Will anymore.
“Shit!” I hollered again as his fist cracked against my shoulder. It didn’t reach my face because I’d leaped sideways, but not quite fast enough. There was blood on his mouth. And blood on Spencer’s throat and hemp T-shirt.
Every ounce of training snapped to attention inside me.
I went with my sideways lunge and then spun around so I came up behind Will. He was in the classic newborn Hel-Blar frenzy, which I’d read about but never actually seen in person. Their thirst for blood was primal and vicious and unstoppable. The moment I’d left his line of vision, he’d focused on Chloe, who was weaker. She was slouched in the hard plastic chair, giggling.
“You smell like old socks,” she told him pleasantly, before shaking her head. “No, like mushrooms.” She looked concerned. “That’s bad, right? I can’t remember why that’s bad.”