A gun went off. Then, two more. Someone screamed.
None of it registered.
He moved as quickly as his fae feet would allow, throwing himself over the table.
The older vampire didn’t seem to notice.
“No!” he yelled again.
Finally, Jelisette looked up. Her eyes sparked with alarm before hardening once again.
It was just a moment, but it was enough.
Ryker grabbed Jelisette, one arm wrapping around her neck and the other around her middle. He landed awkwardly behind her, the weight of his body enough to shift her back a few inches. It wasn’t much, but it bought Brynleigh distance between her and the stake.
“Fight, love!” he yelled as the older vampire screamed and thrashed against his hold.
Jelisette was far stronger than any other vampire Ryker had ever encountered.
Brynleigh didn’t hesitate. Hands still bound by shadows in a praying position, she grabbed the stake and ripped it from her Maker’s hand.
Time slowed to a crawl.
With a warrior’s cry, Brynleigh plunged the stake into Jelisette’s heart.
Fighting continued behind them, but Ryker didn’t pay any attention to it.
A long, undying howl like a bitter winter’s wind came from Jelisette’s lips. The sound sent shivers cascading down Ryker’s spine.
Jelisette clawed at the stake buried deep in her heart, but Brynleigh’s grip held firm.
Ryker reached around the ancient vampire with his good arm and clasped his hand over Brynleigh’s. Her hand, cold beneath his, tightened around the stake. He grunted, flipping all three of them.
Jelisette was on the ground beneath them, and they kneeled on either side of the evil woman.
The howl went on and on and on.
Death had never taken so long to claim its prize.
Black lines spiderwebbed from the stake, covering Jelisette from head to toe. Skin that had been fair and smooth moments ago was now gray and sunken. Silky hair turned to straw. Life-filled eyes drained. She opened her mouth wider, the howl morphing into a never-ending scream. She slashed at them both, her movements brittle and unsteady.
And then, after what felt like a lifetime, Jelisette fell silent. Her hand froze, outstretched towards the heavens, and one last breath slipped from her cracked, ashen lips. The shadows binding Brynleigh’s wrists together vanished.
In the sudden silence, Ryker’s heart was a booming drum in his ears.
Brynleigh whimpered, “She’s… dead.”
Her white-knuckled fingers were still clasped over the stake, along with Ryker’s.
He stared at the shriveled corpse of the woman who had made their lives a living hell. This was the kind of death there was no coming back from.
“Yes, she is.”
A horrible death for a horrible woman.
A tear slid down Brynleigh’s cheek.
“She’ll be with him now,” she murmured. “Emery. I think… I think she loved him. Or whatever kind of love she was capable of feeling.”