the roar of half a mountainside sluicing
away.
Tomas hadn’t wanted to get close
enough for the vampires to scent him, but it meant that she was too
far away for him to grab. She managed to catch hold of a tree stump
in the middle of the sliding mass, but she was getting pounded by a
hail of debris. Tomas tried to tell himself that she could hold on,
that he didn’t have to risk being seen by Alejandro’s men on a
dangerous rescue attempt. He didn’t mind the thought of dying so
much – considering what he was about to face, that was pretty much
inevitable – but he was damned if he wasn’t going to take Alejandro
with him.
Then the church bell began to chime,
its plaintive call cutting through the sound of the earthquake,
reverberating across the valley only to be thrown back by the
nearby hills. Tomas glanced behind him to see the back end of the
old building hanging precariously over nothing at all, its
foundation half gone in the landslide. With a shudder and a crack,
the church broke in half, the heavy stones of its colonial-era
construction beginning to crumble. Some of them were ancient,
having been looted by the builders from nearby Mayan ruins, and
weighed hundreds of pounds apiece. Even if the girl managed to hold
on to her precarious perch, they would sweep her over the
mountainside or break her into pieces where she lay.
Bile rolled up thick in his throat.
Alejandro had wanted to make a monster of him, a carbon copy of
himself. But he’d probably be pleased enough at the thought that
he’d turned Tomas into someone who would stand by and watch an
innocent die because saving her might cost him something. He might
never live to kill that creature, but he wouldn’t give him that
satisfaction.
Tomas let go of the limb and leapt for
the one spot of color in the darkness, the girl’s pale face, using
her as a beacon to guide him through the hail of falling debris. He
reached her just before the first of the ancient stones did,
grabbed her around the waist and leapt for the side of the path
that remained half stable. It was the one where his old associates
were trying to scramble to steadier ground, but at the moment, that
seemed a minor issue.
Despite senses that made the falling
hillside look as if it was doing so in slow motion, he couldn’t
dodge everything. He twisted to avoid a stone taller than him, and
slammed into a smaller one he hadn’t even seen. He heard his left
knee break, but all he felt was a curious popping sensation, no
real pain – not yet – and then they were landing on a surface that
wasn’t falling but was far from steady.
Tomas rolled and got up on his good
knee in time to block a savage kick from Miguel. He’d hoped that,
in the confusion and danger, his old comrades might not have
recognized him, but no such luck. Miguel hit a nearby tree hard,
but flipped back onto his feet almost immediately and was back
before Tomas could regain his stance.
Powerful hands choked him, setting
spots dancing in front of his eyes as he grabbed his assailant’s
arms, trying to keep his throat uncrushed. He pushed Miguel’s arm
the wrong way back until he heard the elbow crack. The vamp didn’t
let go, but his hold weakened enough for Tomas to twist and get an
arm into his stomach, using all his strength to send him staggering
into the path of the falling church. One of the tumbling pews
caught Miguel on the side of his head, knocking him back against
the newly created embankment, where the heavy wooden cross from the
altar pinned him with the force of a sledgehammer.
It wasn’t quite a stake, but it seemed
to do the trick, Tomas thought dazedly, right before something long
and sharp slammed into his side. ‘So the traitor has come back at
last,’ Rico hissed in his ear, twisting a shard of wood so that it
scraped along his ribs, sending stabs of hot pain all up and down
his midsection. ‘Allow me to be the first to welcome you
home.’
Tomas jerked away before the sliver
could