Page 62 of Death Dance

I raised a brow at that. “I do love you, which is why I said it. If I didn’t, I would have said something entirely different. If you want additional love, we need to finish hacking our way to Ben before he steals our kill.”

“If he steals our kill, he’ll be even more of a legend than he already is.”

That gave me a moment of pause, as the old vampire had been alone for a long time and wanted to once again experience the love he’d lost long ago. “Hmm.”

“You shouldn’t be matchmaking during the middle of an ambush,” Emerick stated, and he shook his head. “Top number of kills gets to pick dinner tonight and controls our bedroom celebrations for the next week.”

“You’re on.” I rolled my shoulders, stretched my neck, and steadied myself with a deep breath, taking stock of the flurry of activity on the lower deck.

For the most part, Breckenan dodged Ben. I respected his caution.

If Ben got a hold of the bastard, that was that, and I appreciated that he understood he faced a real threat.

However, the last thing I needed was Breckenan surprising any of us. In combat, surprises tended to have lethal consequences.

As the werevipers could handle themselves, I aimed for Ben and Breckenan, determined to eradicate anyone dumb enough to get in my way. The walkway around the ship, which allowed for four people to walk comfortably, helped contain my prey. With the choices of up, into the shark-infested waters, or stay and fight, the failed ambushers tended to stay and fight.

The first, who looked to be a teen, hissed at me and displayed his diminutive fangs. A recent turn? An experiment gone terribly wrong? I regretted I would likely never have the answer.

He lunged for me, attacking with his bare hands angled at my throat.

In the time it took him to reach me, I stowed my bowl in its holder so I wouldn’t drop it, dropped the opal stake into its sheath, and adjusted my stance. Before he could touch me, I introduced my knee to his groin, grabbed hold of his tattered clothes, and tossed him overboard.

Without bothering to behold his fate, I retrieved the stake, seeking out my next victim so I could plan the perfect date with a satisfying dessert of my husband. I locked my attention on Breckenan.

While going for the main target might lose me the bet, I’d win us the war—even if I ruined Ben’s chance to finish off our prey.

As though somehow sensing his death closed in on him, Breckenan cursed, lunged for the rail, and jumped, propelling over the wall, the smack hard into the pier beyond. Rather than a graceful roll, he skidded to a halt before scrambling to his feet.

Ben snarled curses but did not pursue.

Upon realizing their master fled, the other vampires chose to leap overboard instead of continuing to fight with us.

Some made it to the dock, but most splashed into the water.

The hunting preternaturals below struck, and blood frothed at the surface before the waves quieted to ripples.

I leaned over the rail, raising a brow at the bits of bodies the predators below hadn’t gobbled down. “Well, I think I will be taking the gangway to get to shore.”

My father, who wore more blood than I was comfortable with, approached, joining me in examining the water below. “I believe I shall fly. He isn’t escaping me, not now.”

Ben growled, tucked the bones under an arm, and leapt to the dock. Unlike Breckenan, he tucked into a neat roll, did a full revolution, and popped back to his feet before taking chase.

“I’m not even trying that.”

“You have wings, use them,” my father suggested before transforming into his hierofalcon form and launching into the air. I waved my fist, but as flight would get me safely to land so I could join the pursuit, I huffed and puffed before saying, “I trust you can make that jump, Mr. Lowrance?”

“With as much grace and skill as Ben, I assure you. Go stretch your wings, and I’ll catch up. I may delay to eradicate an irritant along the way. I spy with my little eye a miscreant you’d love to drain dry.”

“That filth doesn’t deserve being consumed. Stab without remorse or hesitation and reduce them to dust,” I replied. After taking a deep breath, I followed my father’s lead, attempted to embrace my avian form, and transformed. While becoming a sun-colored cat had been much simpler than a black one, taking up the mantle of the hierofalcon reminded me of breathing, automatic and natural. The merest thought of zipping into the sky was sufficient to begin the process.

With a single beating of my wings, air currents flung me aloft. I opened my beak and let loose a screech before searching the docks below for Ben and Breckenan. I spotted the pair diving through a maze of shipping containers along the pier. I dove in their direction, tucking my wings close before swooping out of the dive and streaking upwards. Determined to be the one to draw first blood, I angled for the back of Breckenan’s head, buzzed past Ben’s ear, and raked the bastard with my talons, scraping the sharp tips against the hard bone of his skull.

My prey staggered and shrieked.

I zipped upwards, banked, and prepared for another dive.

Breckenan darted into a narrow row of containers, forcing me to gain altitude to follow him from above. An older man in dark clothing with graying hair waited down the walkway, and when Breckenan reached him, the newcomer waved his hand.