Hexed

the attack comes, the vampire inside of me will do the fighting. She’ll have to. I don’t know what powers Samual has on Earth, but I know what powers she possesses. And she’s here. At the surface, raging to be set loose. I feel her spring forth.
    Samual shifts, draws the dagger from its sheath. He stands feet wide apart, eyes bright as he studies me.
    A glance at Stephen. “Stay behind me.”
    He opens his mouth to protest, but when he looks at me, he’s not looking at Anna.
    He’s looking at the vampire.
    My heart turns leaden in my chest as his eyes widen. Even expecting it, the reaction hurts.
    No matter. I snap my attention back to Samual. He doesn’t look startled or surprised. Why should he? He knew what I was.
    The vampire springs with a snarl. Samual leaps to meet me. We fall in a tangle of teeth and fists.
    Samual is strong. His instinct is that of most predators: Go for the throat. He clasps his hands around mine and squeezes.
    But I have instincts, too. Samual is a man, after all. And I suspect an incubus. I bring a knee up and deliver a kick to the groin that forces Samual back with a groan and a sharp intake of air. He stumbles, howling.
    Stephen rushes in before I can stop him. He pushes Samual, sending him sprawling on the ground.
    But Samual is on his feet faster than Stephen’s human reflexes can register the movement.
    I see the flash of the blade before Stephen. I fling him away just before the blade finds it mark. It slices into me instead. A white-hot eruption of blinding pain scorches flesh and scrapes bone just below my shoulder. I twist away as my arm goes numb, the blade still lodged deep.
    The numbness lasts no more than an instant.
    I shake off the pain. Flex my fingers to bring back feeling.
    Samual’s eyes narrow. Does he finally realize I may not be so easy to kill?
    “Vampire, remember?” I hear my voice rumble from a dark place, taunting him. “You can’t kill me with a knife. Shall I see if I can kill you with one?”
    I reach up and pull the blade from my shoulder. It’s warm and wet with my blood. I fight the urge to lick it clean. Instead, I steady it on my palm. The heft is just right, the blade and handle a perfect counterbalance.
    Samual steps back and away, circling. He’s moving toward Stephen. Does he think I will allow him to use the mortal as a shield?
    Before he takes another step, I am on him. Faster than a rattlesnake strike, I have him on the ground, arms pinned to his sides with my thighs. The knife is between my teeth, then in my hand. His legs flail as he tries to buck me off. My eyes are on his throat. What does his blood taste of? Is it sweet or bitter?
    I could throw away the knife. Tear out his throat.
    I see Stephen from the corner of my eye. He’s coming closer, his face reflects shock. If I feed from Samual, will that shock turn to disgust?
    Do I care?
    The vampire is hungry. Samual is gaining strength beneath me. He’s reading my hesitation as weakness. He prepares to do battle once more.
    “Burke was right,” he hisses in my ear. “Your human frailties will be your downfall. After I kill you, I kill the man, then the witches.”
    Stephen hears. “No.” He meets my eyes, reads the question, turns unflinchingly toward Samual. “We kill him together.”
    I glance at the human. His expression is no longer shocked. It’s determined. He’s at my side. Reaches to take the knife from my hand and nods.
    I let him take it.
    Samual stares in confusion. “No. You can’t.”
    Stephen strikes the first blow. He plunges the knife into Samual’s chest. No hesitation. No faltering. A mortal blow. He pulls it out and steps back.
    The blood spreads like a stain. I look up at Stephen. He dips his head. “Feed,” he says.
    Teeth tear at the throat. Find the jugular. Drink.
    And I have my answer.
    Demon or no, Samual’s blood is sweet.

SEVENTEEN
     

     
    SAMUAL’S HEARTBEAT FLUTTERS AND STILLS under my palm. I continue to drink until the taste of salt replaces the sweetness of blood.
    I don’t know what to expect. Will he shrivel like a drained vampire? Or will his body remain intact? Is he really dead?
    I sit back, the flush of feeding spreading warmth through my body, and wait.
    Stephen is standing away.
    I don’t blame him. I could tell him that it’s safe. That the vampire is satisfied and the human Anna once more in control.
    Would he believe me? It won’t be easy to forget what he’s witnessed.
    And yet he struck the first blow.
    I