Flight from Hell Read Free Page A

out by their hair and make them pay, but then—in the silence of my hesitation—I caught the faint sound of the woman’s breath.
    Her chest rose and fell in a shallow beat. She was still breathing.
    Hurrying before they figured out that I was alone, I gathered her up in my arms. Her flowing blood set off my hunger but I drove it back and made for the stairs. I took them two at a time, until I reached the first floor, and raced into the first room I’d entered. Shouts echoed down the stairwell from behind me. Apparently the other vamps had worked out that I wasn’t leading an army, and no doubt they were planning on retrieving their stolen toy.
    At the window, I debated the best way to get her out without hurting her further. Finally, I cautiously lifted her through the broken window and lowered her to the ground. She slowly crumpled to the sidewalk. Then, leaping out to land beside her in a crouch, I pulled out my phone and speed-dialed Camille.
    â€œWhere are you?”
    â€œAlmost there. You sound harried.”
    â€œI just climbed out of the building across the street from the park. I have a wounded woman with me—vamp attack. She’s alive, but she’s really roughed up. The other vamps are behind me. I’m going to lock her in my car and go back in—we can’t let them run loose. Roman’s right, there’s trouble going down in the vamp community.”
    Camille was brusque. “
No
. Wait for us. We’re just around the corner. Make sure the woman is safe and I’ll call the FH-CSI to send a medic unit.” She signed off.
    I gathered up the woman in my arms and, still ignoring the allure of her blood, bundled her over to my car and into the backseat. I checked her pulse again—the beat was thread but definite. She was so pale I could tell she’d lost a lot of blood. Her features made me wonder if she was Fae, but there was no time to focus on her ethnicity. Right now, I just needed to keep her alive.
    Opening the trunk, I pulled out a blanket—we all kept emergency supplies in our cars for situations just like this one—and covered her to try to keep her from going into shock. The blood on her neck had slowed to a trickle. Reluctantly, I examined her thighs to check on the damage.
    She’d been bitten in the femoral artery, but there was a coagulant in vampires’ saliva—including mine—that slowed the flow of blood. We used it when we chose to leave our victims alive—often if a vampire was building a stable of bloodwhores. Apparently, they had chosen to keep her alive, probably for their fun and games. I also noticed bruising around her labia and inner thighs, and—with growing trepidation—I took a closer look.
    Holy fuck. They’d fed from her clit. The fang marks were savage and my temper began to boil. I’d been tortured by the vampire who sired me—tortured like this, and worse. As my fury began to rise, all I could think about was finding these freaks and staking them to dust. I pulled out my phone and called Roman, but he wasn’t picking up. I left a message, then went back to tucking a blanket around the woman.
    As I slipped quietly out of the car, locking it behind me, I saw Camille’s Lexus and Delilah’s Jeep pull in behind my Mustang.
    They got out and hurried over. I pointed to my car. “She’s in there, and she’s badly hurt. They’ve been toying with her for a while. Have you got stakes?” I didn’t like the question, it was one that personally touched me, considering I was also a vampire, but the fact was, the only way we could take care of these freaks was to wipe them out and that meant stakes, fire, or sunlight.
    â€œWe have our emergency kits in the back. You can thank Rozurial for that.” Camille opened her trunk and pulled out a duffle bag filled with weapons. She unzipped it and pulled out five stakes and five little red balls—magical