A crash from the living room pulled me from my shock. I moved forward, pulling out my katana, cleaned it of gore. There were many things required of a vampire warrior; some of them were more disturbing than others.
“Ethan?” I called out.
“I’m good.”
I said a silent prayer of thanks, then glanced around, checked the others. The little guy was on the floor in the foyer. Ryan lay on the floor in front of the kitchenette.
I ran forward. He lay on his back, a nasty wound across his left arm, another across his left leg, and a lot of blood. The scent of it interested my vampire sensibilities, but I ignored the surge of interest and leaned down.
“Ryan.” I tapped his cheeks. “Ryan.”
His eyes fluttered open, focused. “I’m okay.” But he winced with the pain.
Ethan walked toward us, wiping the blood from his sword. There was blood on his right thigh.
“You’re hit?” I asked.
“Glanced me.”
I nodded. “Ryan’s injured. You got the little guy?”
“And his friend. Cord’s got Darius. You got the big guy?”
“I did. Had some unflattering things to say.”
Ethan adjusted his earpiece. “Lucas, we’re done here, and it’s gonna be dirty.”
“Exit’s prepared, van is ready to go. Cleanup crew en route.”
I hadn’t even thought about a cleanup crew, about the necessity of having someone take care of the mess we’d left. I was glad he had.
“Fine,” he said, glanced at Ryan. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
I rose to grab a blanket from the back of a nearby love seat, preparing to drape it across Ryan’s body. I wasn’t sure if vampires could go into shock, but I didn’t feel like it was time to find out.
I saw the instant widening of his eyes, the flare of his irises.
“Behind you,” Ryan cried out, and I snapped my head to look.
The shorter man, blood streaming across his face and his abdomen, had lifted his arm . . . and his gun was pointed at Ethan.
Light and smoke emerged from the barrel.
I didn’t stop to think or plan or evaluate risk. I moved.
I dove in front of Ethan, covering his body with mine as the explosion of sound filled the air. There was only pain, bright and searing, until I hit the ground.
The world spun . . . and went dark.
Chapter Ten
THE RULES OF VAMPIRELAND
I blinked once, then again, before the world cleared. I stared up at a pale ceiling with intricate molding around the edges. I was home.
“She’s awake,” said a woman’s voice beside me.
Fingers clasped my wrist, felt for the pulse I knew was strong. I could feel it throbbing in my head like I was sitting inside a bass drum.
I glanced beside me, recognized the décor of our apartments. I lay on the bed. A woman crouched beside me, her dark skin set off by brilliant fuchsia scrubs. She was Delia, the House’s doctor.
“What happened?” I asked.
“You took one in the line of duty, Sentinel. Shot in the shoulder.”
Mortification replaced confusion. “I didn’t pass out, did I?”
Delia smiled. “No. But your head took a good bounce on the floor when you went down.”
“We’ve actually found something harder than our Sentinel’s head. You’ve been out since last night.”
I glanced at my side, found Ethan behind Delia, his expression pinched with concern. Luc stood behind them, watching cautiously.
“Last night? I missed an entire day? What time is it?”
“A day and part of an evening again,” Ethan said. “It’s midnight.”
I began to sit up, but Delia put a hand on my arm. “Slowly,” she said. “Give it a moment. Concussion, and you might be dizzy for a bit, but you’ll be right as rain soon enough.”
Slowly, I sat up, got my bearings. The room stopped spinning after a moment, and the dull buzz began to fade away.
Delia checked my heartbeat and my temperature. She pushed back the sleeve of my shirt, checked the dressing there, and, with a smile, stripped it away.
“And you’re healed. The benefits of vampire genetics,” she said with a smile. “But you do have a very small scar.”
I bent my shoulder forward to see, found a pale, star-shaped mark no bigger than a dime.
“It was a hollow-point bullet. The shard popped right out as you were healing, but they do tend to leave scars on vampires.”
I’d be in good company there. Ethan still bore the small pucker of skin above his heart where he’d taken an aspen stake for me. And since he stood healthy beside me, I said, “I can deal with a scar. I kinda like it, actually.”
“We’re glad you’re all right, Sentinel,” Luc said. “That was a damn brave thing you did.”
“Thanks,” I said, pressing gingerly at the back of my head, feeling the lump that had blossomed there. Hopefully vampire genetics would take care of that, too.
“And sorry about the damage. You missed a rule,” Luc said, and I nodded, already anticipating the joke.
“I forgot to double-tap the little guy,” I said.
“You forgot to double-tap the little guy,” he agreed.
Delia glanced at her watch, rose. “I need to jet. I’ve got a shift in twenty. Merit should stay off her feet for a little while.”
“Noted, Delia. Thank you for taking a look.”
“Happy to help, as always, Liege.” She walked to the apartment doors, opened them, announced to the vampires who apparently stood there, waiting for news: “She’s awake. You can all go about your business now.”
There were hoots and catcalls that warmed my cheeks, but I didn’t mind the attention. I’d thrown my body in front of Ethan to protect him. I was proud of myself—not because I’d been brave, but because I hadn’t let fear stop me from moving.
Ethan sat down on the bed beside me.
“Is Ryan okay? Darius?”
Ethan stroked a hand along my calf, which soothed as if by magical osmosis. “Both are fine. Ryan and Cord returned to New York.” His face fell. “I’m sorry to say that Max didn’t make it. He was staked.”
I had the sudden, sharp memory of Ethan disappearing in front of my eyes. The sight of Malik, eyes swollen, grieving, carrying a bundle of amaranth at Ethan’s memorial service. His death had been erased by magic, but the memories still bore a terrible weight.
He reached out, squeezed my hand. “I’m here, Sentinel.”