the shadows. He captured her delicate wrist and pulled her behind his body, shielding her.
âShe looks tasty,â someone said from the shadows.
âYouâll never know,â Soren said.
Faith leaned closer to him. She must have finally become aware of the danger.
Footsteps moved steadily toward them, and he dropped his head, studying the sounds, blindly memorizing every movement ahead of him. The demonâs steps echoed off the building. He wasnât facing it.
Heâd backed Faith up against the car, and the sound shifted, coming from behind them.
Gun already pulled free, he turned. Cupping the back of her head, he pulled her tight to his chest. But the creature was fast, and before he found it in the dark, a slicing pain tore across his wrist. The gun dropped from his hand.
âNot so easy now, is it, vampire? With no weapon, how will you defend this little morsel?â
Soren pushed Faith against the car, keeping her far from the demon. A knife glinted in the creatureâs hand. The demon twisted it, waiting for an attack. He would have one.
* * * *
Faith couldnât watch his fist connect with the manâs face. A few more punches, a muffled snap, and then silence.
She looked from the crumpled man to Soren. No one had ever pounded a man into the pavement to keep her safe before. She didnât know the rules for something like that. Did you thank the man, or scold him? Somehow she felt like she ought to do both.
The man on the ground lay motionless, the light catching something wet beneath him.
âYou really hurt him. I think heâs bleeding.â She squinted as she bent down, getting a closer look in the dim light.
âItâs not hurt, Faith, itâs dead. Get in the car,â Soren said, pushing her into the passenger seat and shutting the door.
Dead. She looked at the manâs face one last time through the film of dirt on the car window.
Red eyes stared blankly back. Red eyes.
Numbly she was aware of Soren getting in the car, putting it into motion, and taking out his phone.
âGustav, thereâs a body where you park your crappy car,â he grumbled. Muffled yelling came through on the other end of the phone. âJust take care of it.â
The more she thought about this whole situation, the more frightened she became. Here she sat in a car with a killer. Okay, so he had saved her life twice, but heâd just killed a man with his bare hands. That might be a normal, everyday thing for a vampire, but it had shaken her, badly.
And if he truly was a vampire, then what other creatures were running loose in the world? And was her attacker part of that mythical group? People didnât have red eyes, and Sorenâs eyes werenât red. What did he kill? âHis eyes were red,â she said aloud, still looking out the side window.
âI know.â
âHis eyes were red,â she said more firmly. If he was avoiding it, it meant something.
âFaithââ
She smacked the dash. âDamn it, Soren, why were his eyes red?â
âIt was a demon,â he said, not meeting her glare.
She stared at him, her jaw slightly unhinged, then nodded slowly. âOf course he was. Why didnât I think of that?â The pitch of her voice rose several notches. âGreat, there is a hell.â
âThere is, but these creatures didnât come from hell. Demons are simply another species of human, the same as vampire.â A smile turned his lips upward.
âRight, and how many species are there?â Her fingers tapped the armrest.
âFour. Human, vampire, demon, and wolf.â
âWolf? As in Werewolf? I didnât see that in the brochure.â Faith glanced out the window, and muttered, âWhile in Paris, be sure to see the damned.â
âNone of us are damned. Well, the Wolves are, but thatâs what you get for pissing off a witch. Whatâs left of them reside somewhere outside London.
Barbara Davilman, Ellis Weiner