Jay’s arm slips from my shoulders, and his hand finds mine. He’s all claws and sweaty palm, but I hold his hand anyway. He’s already emotionally fragile, and the accusations are making it worse. His worst fear is coming true—that he’ll do something wrong, make a mistake, and everyone will turn on him.
I try for my special tone, low and smooth and musical, but I’m too hoarse. “Cut him some slack, okay?” I tell the woman. “He had no idea these people would escalate to violence so fast. We’re here now, to warn you and to help you.”
The woman releases a brittle laugh. “You’re not even a vampire, are you? You’re not one of us. You don’t have the right to weigh in here.”
“She has every right,” Jay says, straightening. “Now why don’t we get ready to defend this place in case someone does show up to kill us?”
Jay is no military strategist, but there’s a former sergeant in the group and he directs us to various hiding spots around the first floor. I’m given a pair of kitchen knives and ordered to hide behind the kitchen island, so I can run out the back door or up the stairs if I need to. I don’t like being viewed as the most vulnerable one, but I don’t protest because my hiding spot puts me close to Jay, who is covering the back door along with the guy who likes Jordan—Nicholas or something? He’s crouched near the fridge, a shotgun gripped in his big hands.
“I’m Daisy,” I whisper to him.
“Michaelis.” He nods and gives me a quick smile. “Hey, you should put your bag in one of the cabinets. That way it won’t get all bloody if there’s a fight.”
“You’re so right! Thank you. I’d completely forgotten about it.” I sling my purse off my shoulder and into the nearest cabinet. I like this Michaelis guy. He’s down-to-earth, practical, and good-hearted. Just what Jordan needs.
“I got your back, girl,” he whispers. “No worries.”
I want to tell him not to say things like that, because the nice guy who talks that way is always the first to die in horror movies. But I hold back the words and wait for the scritch of claws against the window, or the slow revolving of the lock on the back door, or the hiss of fanged voices.
Seconds tick past like bombs, each one an explosion in my ears until I want to snatch the stupid loud clock off the kitchen wall and smash it against the tiles.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
I feel like we should be hiding in the dark, but we left the lights on because the sergeant said turning them off would give the advantage to the enemy and also tip them off that we’ve been warned. Although the lack of chattering voices in the house is probably enough to let them know they’re expected.
If they ever show up.
Maybe they only planned to kill Cheadle’s group as a warning.
Maybe it’s all going to be fine, and I won’t have to use the stupid kitchen knives. My palms are as sweaty as Jay’s were earlier, and the handles keep slipping. I’ve never stabbed anything before. Well, I stabbed a beef roast once, just to see how it would feel. It was satisfying, but tougher than I expected, what with all the muscle and sinew. How will it feel to stab a vampire? Or will I die before I have to find out?
Jay keeps looking over at me. His face is salt-white and he looks way younger than twenty-four. I want to run to him, to hug him, to protect him. I’ve always wanted to protect him, ever since the day I met him. He was hiding behind one of the dumpsters at our ratty apartment complex, his knees tucked up to his chin and his face tearstained. I gave him a green Jolly Rancher from my pocket and sat down beside him, and later he followed me home and Mom asked him to stay for dinner.
I’m not as familiar with this Jay who can take care of himself. The old Jay always supported me and listened to me, but he usually needed me more than I needed him. It felt good, being needed. Even now, scared as I am, I’m strengthened by his fear, by the knowledge that he needs me to be strong and brave.
“Jay,” I whisper. “It’s going to be all—”
The kitchen door blasts inward, carried to the floor in splinters by a hulking body. Dark-clad figures pour into the house, wielding long, shiny blades.
Michaelis lifts his shotgun and fires, and I release a panicked scream. I can’t help it. Pain flares in my throat, and one of the attacking vampires whirls at the sound. She leaps forward, brandishing a machete.
There’s a terrible moment when I think I might detach from myself, but miraculously I stay whole and clearheaded. I claw at the stored memories of my few self-defense classes and dodge the incoming swipe of the blade. In the same moment, I drop my knives, duck in past my attacker’s arm, and grip her elbow and wrist, wrenching them at a painful angle like my instructor taught me. I can’t remember what to do next, how to get the machete away from her—but it doesn’t matter because Jay crashes into my attacker’s body, roaring like a demon, and plunges all ten of his claws into her throat. With a ripping crack, he tears outward.
The vampire’s head tumbles to my feet with a dull thud, and I’m doused in scarlet spray.
Jay’s gone again, lunging for someone else’s throat. He’s not afraid anymore, or if he is, he’s using the terror to fuel his ferocity.
I retrieve my attacker’s discarded machete and wait, with my back to the kitchen sink. I don’t dare try to enter the fight, because unlike Jay and Michaelis, I don’t know all these faces, and the last thing I want to do is slice the head off one of the good guys. I try looking for the bracelets so I can tell who’s who, but with everyone moving so fast, I can barely see.
There are so many flying limbs and flaying claws and slashing teeth, so much blood, I can’t—I might be sick.
I cringe away, but I don’t dare stop watching, because what if I miss my chance to help?
Michaelis’s big body crashes to the floor near me, and another vampire sinks a long knife into his throat. He’s about to saw his way through Michaelis’s neck—he’s going to kill Jordan’s guy—
I lunge forward and swing the machete as hard as I can. My scream comes out as a hideous croak through my ravaged throat as the blade bites into flesh.
It’s hard to cut someone’s head off. My blade sticks, and I struggle with it while the vampire screeches, raking his claws along my arm. He reaches up, scrabbling for my face—
And then Jordan is there, her eyes stark white and her pale claws extended. She grips the struggling vampire’s head, and with a surge of inhuman strength, she rips it free. The body tumbles forward onto Michaelis.
Jordan crashes to her knees beside him. She shoves the dead vampire aside with a vicious, “Get off him, bastard.” Her fingers flutter over his chest, like she’s not sure where to touch him without causing more damage.
Michaelis lies limp and motionless, blood flowing freely from the stab wound—but even as I watch, the blood flow lessens, slows to a trickle as his flesh seals itself again.
The rigid tension eases from Jordan’s limbs, and she exhales, her fingers curling into the wet fabric of his shirt.
He blinks and stares up at Jordan. “What happened?”
“Daisy saved you. And then I took care of the rest.” She winks at Michaelis. “You stay here, big man. I’m going to help finish this fight.”
“Right on.”
Jordan darts away, and I help Michaelis drag himself to a sitting position.
