Vengeance of the Demons (36 page)

He pushed the knife handle into Whitey’s trembling hand. “Take it. You’ll need it again.” Mason grabbed his pack. Adrenaline coursed through him still and his mind replayed the feeling of burning the Vampire. He tried not to like it.

“Come on, Whitey.” Nita said. The small group took off again, moving slower this time.

Sheila caught up to him a few minutes later. “You need help, Mason.”

He shook his head. “Keep moving.”

“Let me look at it at least. I used to be a nurse before—”

He gave her a hard stare. “Sheila, I’ll be fine.”

“Well, don’t come to me when it gets infected.”

They’d been traveling for an hour when he stopped to lean on a tree. The pain from his wound had become no more than a dull ache. The healing had begun. If he didn’t get the bullet out soon, it was going to be a trick trying to get it out at all.

He looked at their surroundings. The trees had thinned and the moon shone down brighter around them. Whitey pulled out his water, handing it to Mason. Mason waved it off, but Whitey persisted.

“You’re bleeding. You need this,” Whitey said.

“I’ll be fine.”

“How did you do that?” Nita asked.

“Do what?” Mason knew what she meant.

“Burn that Vampire.”

“You must have seen it wrong.” He let out a labored breath. He couldn’t afford to have them go around telling their people he’d burned a Vampire with his bare hands.

Mason adjusted his pack and straightened to leave when he heard it. Several beings rushed through the trees just south of where they stood. He turned to Whitey. “You have to take them.”

“No. I...I...can’t,” Whitey stammered.

“They can smell my blood. They’ll find me if I keep going with you. My blood will cover your scents. That’s why I came this far with you. Keep moving for another hour. They’ll give up because of the sunrise. Go to the top of the mountain. There should be caves in a few more miles. Build your fire in the back, but not too big. Huddle together for warmth if needed. I’ll meet up with you and Ike later.”

“We’re not leaving you,” said Nita.

“Go now,” Mason urged.

“No,” said Sheila. “You’re part of our group. We’re stronger together, besides who would we be if we left you?”

“Survivors.”

“We aren’t leaving.” Nita brandished her hunting knife. “You wouldn’t leave us.”

There wasn’t time for this conversation. “Do you have any idea what they do to human females?”

“We’re not going. Deal with it.” Sheila flashed her own knife.

Mason breathed deeply. He smelled three slavers. The lingering scent of death surrounded them, and he wondered how many they’d killed from the camp.

He pointed. “Into the trees. If it looks like I need help, help. Otherwise, stay put.” He ripped the bandage from his stomach, and stuck his fingers into the oozing wound. Staring at his hand, he located the beast within him and called it forth. His fingers lengthened and thinned as long curved nails sprouted sharp as razors. Bracing himself on the tree trunk, he dug a claw into his side, probing for the bullet. Hooking it with his nail, he ripped it from his wound. Pressing his lips shut, he stifled a cry of pain. The skin on his arms darkened in the moonlight and his facial bones shifted. He steadied his breathing and concentrated on the sounds of the Vampires moving closer. Pushing the beast back, he willed it to sleep. Not yet. It’s not your time.

His hand normalized. Rich blood flowed onto his palm from the wound. He let it pool there before wiping it on the tree behind him. He dropped the bullet to the ground. Turning, he wiped more blood on the tree Sheila had leaned on.

He ran from tree to tree, rubbing his bloodied hands on them. He hung scraps of the soaked shirt on limbs, or threw them on the ground, doing anything to cover the scent of others. He trudged higher up the hillside. His side burned with each step.

The Vampires approached from downwind. Mason stopped marking the trees and turned. Three pairs of cold, dead eyes stared at him.

“You killed my brother,” said one. “Now I’m going to kill you, human.”

Mason didn’t answer.

The Vampire took a step forward, but was caught by the arm.

“Clive only pays if they’re alive,” said a female.

“I don’t care.” The male jerked his arm away. “He killed Jaren.” The tall, thin Vampire with crooked teeth returned his attention to Mason, and stepped forward again.

“Yvette’s right, Marco. This one should fetch a good price at auction. Look at the size of him.”

“And his scent, it’s enough to send me into a frenzy.” Yvette took a step forward herself. “He smells so intoxicating. So much rich, warm blood.”

“Yvette.” The third Vampire pulled on her arm. “We tag him, and take him in. That’s the job.”

Mason backed up a step. A guttural growl escaped his lips. Drinking from him was not an option. If they drank from him, he wouldn’t be unable to stop what happened. The beast inside howled. The thought of using his powers crossed his mind. If he just used a little, maybe—No. The humans in this world were screwed enough without his inner beast having his way with them.

Pulling the gun out of his waistband he shot Marco straight through the head. Then he threw himself at the other two Vampires.

• Cover Copy
  
• Books by Rebekah R. Ganiere
  
• Vengeance of the Demons
  
• Copyright
  
• Dedication
  
• Acknowledgements
  
• Chapter 1
  
• Chapter 2
  
• Chapter 3
  
• Chapter 4
  
• Chapter 5
  
• Chapter 6
  
• Chapter 7
  
• Chapter 8
  
• Chapter 9
  
• Chapter 10
  
• Chapter 11
  
• Chapter 12
  
• Chapter 13
  
• Chapter 14
  
• Chapter 15
  
• Chapter 16
  
• Chapter 17
  
• Chapter 18
  
• Chapter 19
  
• Chapter 20
  
• Chapter 21
  
• Chapter 22
  
• Chapter 23
  
• Chapter 24
  
• Chapter 25
  
• Chapter 26
  
• Chapter 27
  
• Epilogue
  
• Meet the Author
  
• REIGN OF THE VAMPIRES
  
• Chapter 1