The Last Vampire: Book Six by R. A. Steffan & Jaelynn Woolf

Author:R. A. Steffan & Jaelynn Woolf [Steffan, R. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Vampire, fae, romantic fantasy, demon, Urban Fantasy Romance
Publisher: OtherLove Publishing, LLC
Published: 2019-12-09T18:30:00+00:00

THIRTEEN

A SHOTGUN BLAST rang out in the night, followed closely by a second. Guthrie strode toward Myrial, his expression twisted into hard lines as he dropped a pair of fresh shells into the gun and snapped the barrel closed. Myrial hissed in anger like a cat as two more blasts of rock salt exploded scattershot against her torso. Thin wisps of smoke rose from the tiny wounds.

She disappeared, only to reappear instantaneously right in Guthrie’s face, tearing the shotgun from his hands and shoving him backward thirty feet through the air. His spine impacted with a tree trunk, and the sound of wood cracking echoed through the clearing.

Vampire, I reminded myself a bit frantically. As long as his head’s still attached and there’s no silver sticking out of his chest, he’s fine.

Edward murmured something low in an unfamiliar sounding language. A shimmer of light like an aurora burst up from the perimeter he’d defined with his own blood. Myrial’s gaze raked over him, and she sneered with disdain before returning her attention to Guthrie lying crumpled at the base of the tree.

“Word to the wise, bean-counter,” she said. “Salt makes a poor projectile. It’s far too light to penetrate more than a few millimeters into flesh...” Her eyes slid to me, darkness flooding in behind her expression. “... unless, of course, you pack it inside a hollowed-out bullet first.”

A chill like glacial ice settled in my chest at the reminder of how my mother had died. Myrial hadn’t killed her; of that, I was fairly confident. No—I had the Fae to thank for Sasha Bright’s death, and for my family’s downward spiral in the aftermath. Of course, that wasn’t going to stop Myrial from using Mom’s death as a weapon to distract me, now that the evil cow had decided I needed to die.

Her eyes glowed with hellfire as she studied me. One eyebrow arched with interest as she sensed my newly undead status.

I bared my teeth. “Oh, yeah. That’s right, bitch. Being a demon-human hybrid with added Fae magic was getting kind of boring, so I decided to add vampire into the mix. Sorry if that complicated your little plan for world domination, or whatever the fuck you’re trying to do.”

Rans and Nigellus stepped forward to stand on either side of me. Myrial’s attention slid past us, and I glanced back to find that she was taking in Albigard’s presence as he helped Guthrie back to his feet. The Fae met her eyes squarely and leaned back against the cracked tree trunk with his arms crossed—the picture of indifference. Apparently, he hadn’t been kidding when he told Nigellus that his only interest was in Caspian.

A sharp whoomph of displaced air snapped my focus back to the demon of fate standing next to me. Nigellus had shed his human guise, and now I was flanked by a creature from human nightmare. Where Myrial’s androgynous natural form exuded grace, from her shapely legs to her spiral antelope horns, Nigellus’ demon guise screamed power.

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