Page 112 of Let Sleeping Vampires Lie

I twisted my wrist and sent a sheet of flame rolling along the side wall, hugging the length of the hall. It clung to the stone, devouring mercenaries where they stood, leaving the velvet untouched.

They shrieked this time.

That sound I heard.

Cerise shouted something in a language I did not recognize and threw a barrier up in front of herself and the nearest buyers. My fire hit it and diverted, splitting like water around a rock, then snapping back toward the soldiers clustered near the doors.

They burned.

Con fought like a creature pulled from a nightmare.

He moved between pockets of my fire, never flinching when it brushed close enough to singe. His suit jacket was already torn, shirt darkened from blood and soot. Fangs slipped behind his lips now, eyes bright with gold and something redder at the edges.

He ducked under a wild swing, drove his knife into the back of a soldier’s knee, then spun and used the falling body as cover against another volley.

A bullet grazed his shoulder.

Another slammed into his ribs.

He grunted but did not falter.

On the stage, the tall mercenary still held the case.

He had not run.

He waited.

Until the others had drawn enough fire.

Then he moved.

He leaped from the platform with impossible speed, angling toward a side exit behind the velvet curtain.

Marcus intercepted him halfway.

How he got there so quickly, I was not sure. One moment he had been near the second row. The next he appeared at the foot of the stage, a small pistol in hand, firing at the larger man’s legs.

The bullets hit.

The mercenary stumbled, one knee buckling for a second. The case nearly slipped.

He snarled and swung a backhand at Marcus.

The blow sent Marcus flying into the nearest row of seats. He hit the floor hard, breath leaving him in a harsh curse.

The case wobbled.

I had an opening.

I stepped forward, magic coiling in my chest again, and reached for another wave of fire.

This one felt different.

Deeper. Wilder. Like it spoke the same language as the strange aura clinging to the serum case.

Valerian’s presence surged.

“Show me what you are made of,” the whisper slid along my spine.