Page 90 of Bishop's Flight
“I’m not leaving you.” She mouthed the words clearly and pointed at the distant lights. “I need to make sure—”
“Brigid Connor!” Zasha’s voice cut through the darkness.
“Go,” she hissed. “Get out of sight.”
Lucas scrambled over the red boulder, and Brigid turned to see Zasha walking out of the water like some enraged sea creature striding onto land. They were soaking wet, dragging a piece of metal that had sheared off from the side of the boat and embedded in their thigh.
Brigid realized that this was the first time she’d faced Zasha when they’d both been rendered powerless to use their fire.
I really wish I had a gun right now.
“Zasha.” She tucked the towel around her and walked toward them. “Sorry to see you’re still alive.”
Not a flowing red hair on Zasha’s head had been singed, but had their eyebrows always been gone? Maybe it was true. Maybe something about the vampire’s amnis repelled fire and heat. They were still wearing the loose white linen clothes they’d worn on the boat, though the edges of those were torn from the force of the blast.
It couldn’t repel objects though. There was a gaping wound in their gut and cuts all over their face, along with the deep puncture wound on their thigh, all of them quickly healing from the vampire’s own blood.
“Clever, clever,” Zasha muttered. “I see the boy lives. You’ve grown more skilled since I nearly incinerated you in Louisiana.”
“Leave, Zasha.” She could feel Carwyn now. His amnis leaped in her blood. “My mate is coming, and unlike me, he won’t be unarmed.”
Zasha’s lip curled. “I’m not ready to let you go yet, Brigid Connor.” They lunged toward Brigid with vampire speed, aiming the improvised metal spear at Brigid’s throat.
She dodged to the right, falling to the sand and closing her hand around a rock she flung at Zasha’s head.
The rock nearly found its mark, glancing off Zasha’s temple and leaving another bloody gash. Zasha fell on her, their larger body covering Brigid’s as they punched her face and tried to wrench her neck.
“You. Have. Irritated. Me.” Zasha tried to grasp Brigid’s head between their hands, but she struggled away, the towel falling away from her body. She was naked in the sand, struggling with sheer will against a larger opponent.
But Brigid’s skin was drying out.
And Zasha’s clothes were still soaking wet.
Carwyn could seetwo figures fighting on the beach, the lights from the burning houseboat flickering and smoke rising from the wreckage. He could see Brigid now, her small silhouette powerful and quick against a larger enemy. He could see growing sparks in the darkness, two fire vampires battling near the water, reaching to find their element in the desert night.
What he didn’t see was the boy.
Please let him be alive.
Carwyn knew that if Brigid’s fire had killed an innocent, she would blame herself for an eternity. He watched the two vampires struggle and felt Brigid’s amnis wake, roused by the explosion and the violence. The air was dry, and warm wind swept over the water. Though water surrounded them, they were still in the middle of the desert.
And a fire vampire in the desert was dangerous.
“He’s going to pull up as close as we can get to the beach,” Bernard said. “We can’t damage the boat if we’re going to make it back.”
“Understood.” Carwyn was waiting until it was close enough to leap. “Come on, darling girl. It’s waiting for you.”
He could feel her amnis in his blood, the fear and the invigoration. She was afraid, but she was utterly and thoroughly alive.
Carwyn’s fangs fell as the air around his mate ignited.
“That’s a lass.” He grinned as he watched her spread her arms and fling a wall of flame toward Zasha Sokholov.
The wind took the fire and swirled it around, catching the brush with its heat and raking the red rock walls of Lake Mead. He felt the hot wind against his face as he squinted and saw Zasha’s own fire ignite in response to Brigid’s.
Dammit.
“Where are the water vampires?” Bernard shouted. “We have to put them out!”
