Vampyre Bride ✔️

XLII⎮Death's Swift Wings

Pain shot through her scalp as her head was yanked up from the dirt with such brutal force that Emma thought her spine would snap. Through the screaming and the ringing in her ears, she heard an ugly hissing at her ear.

"I gave you a chance, harlot." Victoria tightened her claws in Emma's hair, giving the mass a sharp shake when Emma tried to pull away. "You will wish you had not disappointed me."

"Victoria! Let her go!" Milli rushed at the vampyre's back only to find herself dashed backward against the tree with no greater effort than was needed to swat a fly from the air. Stunned and sprawled like a broken doll, Milli watched in horror, her arm thrown up in a desperate plea. "Please, don't hurt her!"

"Hurt her?" Turning her murderous glare to Emma—a glare immersed in blackness—Victoria parted her lips in a vicious grin and chuckled. The clawed hand she had used to subdue Milli was now pressed to Emma's throat, choking and caressing, long nails poised over Emma's pulse. "I mean to kill her." With a growl of fury, she suddenly stabbed a long nail into Emma's neck and ripped the artery open.

"Victoria, no!" Milli screamed, horrified, clawing her way towards her sister. "No!"

Blood surged up like a geyser, staining Emma's gaping mouth and tongue. She was insensible to the pain, completely overmastered by panicked incredulity. It was all she could do to staunch the disgorge of blood from her torn artery with fumbling hands. Everything seemed obscured and drowned in crimson. Victoria was there one moment and then, the very next instant, she was gone with a howl of outrage. Her claws had been suddenly and forcibly removed from Emma's neck, her body expelled by the swift blur of a battering ram.

A violent peel of hatred reverberated through the yard—Victoria shrieked and spat her odium upon the head of whoever had wrenched her from Emma's bleeding throat. All of it—Milli's sobs, Victoria's caterwauling, Emma's throbbing ribs, and the ceaseless gush of blood—beat against Emma's brain like the wild black wings of chaos. But though the confusion of throes and wreckage, she descried Hawksmoor's face hovering into view.

"Emma!" Eyes blazing a feral red, as though his vessels had burst their ocular seams, he ripped at his cuff and sleeve and then pressed the shredded linen directly to her neck. "Hold fast, Emma, I won't let you die!" He reached over and pulled Milli to Emma's side, and with the cold detachment of a war physician, placed the girl's trembling hands firmly against Emma's neck. "Do not let go!" He might have said or done more for Emma, but his ministrations were suddenly cut short.

Roaring her vengeance, Victoria descended upon him, lashing at his throat with bloody talons. "You dare!"

"Are you mad?!" He threw her off, his voice much altered and guttural.

She roared her denial and attacked again.

"He'll kill you! Desist, woman!" Nicholas seized her throat and flung her off him once more, but she landed with hideous grace in the willow bough above his head and threw her black scowls down at him as she clawed the bark. "He will feel her panic and come for her. Save yourself and begone! He may still let you live if you let me save her!" Hawksmoor wiped at the seeping wound on his own neck and returned her scowl with blood-stained rancor. His eyes, unlike the vampyre's, were not besieged with blackened vitriol, but with glowing crimson.

Emma tried to speak, but Milli lowered her head and kissed her sister's brow, whispering for her to be still and conserve her energy.

"Give her to me!" Victoria screamed, but Emma could not see to whom she referred.

"To what purpose? You know he will hunt you down."

"Not in my father's house!" Victoria sounded her battle cry as she flung herself at Hawksmoor and tore at his face.