Page 69 of No Rest for the Wicked

I slammed a hand over his mouth, cutting off the wail.

Less than a heartbeat later, something thumped on the chapel roof and scurried over the shingles. Then another thump sounded. The vampires were coming.

I had to get the group of Lost Ones out.

They panicked, stumbling toward the chapel door.

But events were unfolding too fast, falling like dominoes.

One of the stained-glass windows shattered, raining jagged glass.

A vampire landed among the Lost Ones, scattering them among the pews.

Another window smashed.

Vampires closed in, like wolves circling weaker prey.

Armin bucked and thrashed in my iron grip. I smothered a hand over his whole face and smacked his head against the hard chapel floor. He fell limp, unresponsive. Maybe dead, maybe not. There wasn’t time to check.

I had to stop the others.

“Hey!” The growl underscoring my voice had the vampires looking over. In the gloom, they saw a human, but not. My glamor held, fooling their vision, but their other vampires senses would be firing off predator alarm bells.

The chapel door vanished, torn off its hinges. Zee strutted in, sword gleaming. “Who started this fucking party without me?” He’d vanished his wings, but still resembled a vampire-killing badass in a tight Babe top. Finger-painted bloody streaks underlined his purple eyes.

Relief made my heart soar. I wasn’t alone.

The weird, creepy, disembodied female laughter bubbled up again, emanating from behind me. I twisted, to see the vampire queen’s enormous painting ripple and warp. The figure moved, as though peeling herself from the canvas, and then inch by inch, she began to climb from the frame like a bad horror movie.

“That’s a whole lot of fuck-no.” Zee recoiled. “All aboard the nope train, we’re leaving this fucking station. Everyone who isn’t a sucker get behind me.”

“Our queen!” one of the vampires announced. “She comes!”

That sounded really bad.

But at least the vampires were distracted. They drifted toward the altar, staring up at their emerging liege, consumed by the momentous occasion.

Zee poofed to my side. “Kitten, this is probably a good time to fuck off?”

I glanced up at his cringing face. Our gazes met, and his eyes widened. He’d seen some of the real me peering back at him. I blinked, and packed the truth away, mentally stuffing the very unfluffy and not-nice dragon back into its hidey hole, then rolled my shoulders. “Sorry you had to uhm, see that.”

“Naw, ’sall good, bro,” Zee squeaked, then cleared his throat, and added in a serious tone. “Never apologize for who you are, Kitten.”

Victor blurred to my right side. “Adam, it’s time we left.”

The queen had almost heaved her entire body through. She clutched at the picture frame, long black nails dug into the wall, working to free herself from the final few inches of canvas. Horrible fangs filled her mouth. Fury made her eyes blaze.

If she got free, it would probably be a very bad day for anyone who wasn’t a vampire.

I wasn’t supposed to get involved. This wasn’t my fault, or my fight. I could back away slowly, and fate would take its course.

“Or . . .” I cleared the growl from my throat, and looked down at the bloody sword, Shareen, gripped in Zee’s hand. He looked down too, then raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe a little stabby, stabby?” I suggested.

His eyes widened again. “Now?”

“Nobody is looking.” The vampires were all flocking to the painting like moths to a flame.