Page 54 of Wake the Dream

A set of claw-like fingernails slashed at her face. Illaria saw them coming from the corner of her eye and ducked on instinct. The vampire near the fireplace seized the advantage, his arm snaking out and landing a blow close to her shoulder.

“I’m going to suck you dry,” he said, fangs distending.

“No. You. Won’t,” Illaria told him in a tense, clipped voice that brooked no disagreement. “Asshole.”

Unfortunately, the creature didn’t care much what her tone brooked. It lunged for her. Illaria spun out of the way and came face to face with the vamp from the photos. From the club. She would recognize those eyes anywhere, the chill in them.

His breath hissed out. “Bad move. Now you’re never going to wake up.”

Kieran chose that moment to embrace his inner football jock. He slammed into the vampire and Illaria watched the creature flip in midair, slung toward the ground.

With an out in front of her, she tried to force her frozen muscles to move. When the closest vamp flung out a leg to restrain her, she slipped underneath on her way to the door. The bag. She needed the bag Kieran had dropped just outside the bag with stakes and holy water. Anything to get these creatures to stop.

She made it ten feet.

The vampire from the club grabbed her from behind and drew her down. He easily outweighed her by a good fifty pounds or more. He landed and bounced on her back, forcing her into the ground like a doll in the hands of a petulant child.

She slashed with her elbow—only to be grabbed by two massive hands. Her wrists sang in agony as the fingers squeezed hard enough that she cried out. She twisted, bringing up a foot to smash into her assailant, and caught a flash of fangs before— Not fangs. Teeth. Sharp, curving teeth designed to slip beneath her skin and rend.

Illaria cried out when those damn teeth pierced the spot between her neck and shoulder, a primal act of aggression. This went beyond a drive for blood, for food, the bite strong and claiming. It stunned her into stillness.

The vampire had her pinned against the side of the fireplace. Once she came to, struggling to free herself, he clamped down harder. His teeth slid deep into her and each subsequent movement had blood spilling onto her shirt.

Pinned like some weakling instead of the great Fae she was. What had happened to her? What had caused her to lose her magic like a useless and pathetic piece of garbage? No better than Daniel, except even he had gotten the jump on her.

Illaria growled, shoving at the vamp with whatever strength she had left. Teeth ripped from her skin when she struck him in his chest.

The pain had gone, too much for her overwrought nerves to handle perhaps, and she didn’t care about the blood. She didn’t care why she couldn’t seem to access her magic anymore. No, now she wanted tofight. She wanted to rip his throat out in retaliation.

Together they moved until the vamp lunged, throwing a punch so swift most humans would have had their heads spun around on their necks. But Illaria managed to dodge him and catch his wrist in her hands. She spun around to lock it into a hold, prepared to break his bones.

His face twisted in pain and she took the moment to drive her knee up to whatever piece of him she could reach.

They moved together brutally fast, two supernatural beings with one having the edge only in that he knew how to fight. Illaria relied on rage alone. Especially when the vampire laughed. She went on the offensive and moved like a virago, punch for punch, block for block.

She hit the ground bloodied more times than she could count, and then pushed to her feet just as the vampire attacked again and again. It would have been over real quick if she’d had access to her magic. Which, unfortunately, had decided to make itself scarce, forcing her to utilize her body strength.

The vampire landed a kick to her chest that sent her flying backwards, slamming into the rock of the fireplace. She slumped, gasping to draw air into her lungs. Kieran called her name, the syllables echoing in her brain.

“Your sister would have put up a better fight,” the vamp taunted, moving closer to nudge Illaria with his foot.

Wrong thing to say. He’d known his words would register like a slap to the face. He’d had the upper hand—until then.

She retaliated, hungry to bring him down, fighting with wild wrath no one would have expected from a creature of her size. She hurtled after him and the vampire whirled in time to catch her. Twisting at the last moment, Illaria locked his arms and neck into a hold, her legs coming around his waist and bringing them both to the floor.

Mrs. Macy glanced at them wide-eyed before letting out a low whistle. Whatever had kept the rest of the vampires occupied—namely Kieran—became obsolete at that moment, and the pack moved as one toward Illaria.

She had a moment of pure panic where her stomach churned before they were on her, using their might to pry her off her prize. She shrieked in pain, in terror, as they came at her with teeth and claws. Blood slipped down her skin and she caught sight of red eyes before heads lowered.

They bit her.

Awareness flickered as she tried to struggle, tried to dislodge the fangs meant to dig deep and cling, hooked at the ends. The vampire from the club raised his head long enough to lick his lips, bloody grin growing the weaker she became.

“It was worth it. You’redelicious.”

Illaria opened her mouth to scream and found her body unwilling to cooperate. Her arms twitched, blood seeping from a dozen bites, a dozen cuts. The last flickering thought in her deprived brain was for her sister.

Then the vampire at her neck exploded into dust.

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