Real Vampires: Glory Does Vegas by Bartlett Gerry

Author:Bartlett, Gerry [Bartlett, Gerry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dragon Lady Publishing
Published: 2021-04-09T00:00:00+00:00

17

“ W ho? What?” I wrapped the towel around me.

“Wolves!” He leaped out of the bathroom, his eyes wild. “They’re attacking the house. Lock yourself in here. Or in the closet. I’ll take care of this.”

“Like hell.” I was right behind Dom as he pulled on his pants then raced out of the bathroom. I stopped when I saw him suddenly turn into a bat and fly out of the open bedroom door and down the stairs. Of course, he’d changed. That was something I just could not do.

I found his shirt and jerked on my shorts and tennis shoes. In that odd costume I ran down the stairs. I looked out the window and braced myself to join the fight. There were at least six werewolves snapping and attacking Valdez and Caro. Caro had turned into a beautiful Bengal tiger and she was huge, deadly. She raked a big gray wolf with her claws, drawing blood. He howled, snarled and snapped at her but was no match for jaws that gleamed with lethal fangs that made me shudder. She leaped, grabbed him by the shoulder and shaking him like a stuffed toy before she tossed him across the clearing. He landed unconscious against a rock garden.

Dom? He’d changed into yet another creature. This one was a mountain lion, roaring a challenge as he faced off with a wolf whose fur matched Bob’s hair. This must be the leader of this pack, coming to prove he couldn’t be denied entrance to a topless club without payback. The two threw themselves at each other with screams of rage, fur and blood flying.

I had to do something, but what?

Then I remembered the crossed swords I’d seen above the fireplace mantle. I climbed up and grabbed both of them. A quick swish in the air and I knew they were good Toledo steel. It had been a long time since I’d had to use a sword. But back when it had been the defensive weapon of choice, my pal Florence da Vinci had given me lesson after lesson in swordcraft. She’d finally pronounced me polished enough to survive a fight, even if I’d never be a master swordsman. In her opinion I wasn’t bloodthirsty enough. She was bold and brave enough for both of us.

She didn’t hesitate to shift and fly out of a dangerous situation if she didn’t see a way to win. There was a deep fear inside me that held me frozen when I’d tried to shape-shift. That meant I had to fight like a mortal unless I could use mind control or my fangs. In the frenzy of an assault, neither of those options had ever worked well for me and wouldn’t work now. I didn’t see any of these wolves standing still for a little eye contact.

I dropped one sword by the door before flinging myself outside and into the fray. I could smell the wolves now. I would remember this animal scent and be wary of them forevermore.

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