Home > Witchlight (Night World #9)(4)

Witchlight (Night World #9)(4)
Author: L.J. Smith

Hang on... hang on...

Black pain... blinding...

She was losing consciousness.

For Winnie, she thought.

Sudden strength filled her. The pain didn't matter anymore. She tossed her head, trying to break his neck, wrenching it back and forth.

The body underneath her convulsed violently. She could feel the little lapsing in it, the weakening that meant death was close. Keller felt a surge of fierce joy.

And then she was aware of something else. Someone was pulling her off the dragon. Not in the fumbling way the thugs had. This person was doing it skillfully, touching pressure points to make her claws retract, even getting a finger into her mouth, under the short front teeth between the lethal canines.

No! Keller thought. From her panther throat came a short, choking snarl. She lashed out with her back legs, trying to rip the person's guts out.

Afo. The voice didn't come in through Keller's ears. It was in her mind. A boy's voice. And it wasn't afraid, despite the fact that she was now scrabbling weakly, still trying to turn his stomach to spaghetti. It was concerned and anxious but not afraid. Please-you have to let go.

Even as he said it, he was pushing more pressure points. Keller was already weak. Now, all at once, she saw stars. She felt her hold on the dragon loosen.

And then she was being jerked backward, and she was falling. A hundred and ten pounds of black panther was landing on whoever had yanked her free.

Dizzy...

Her vision was blurred, and her body felt like rubber. She hardly had enough strength to twist her head toward the boy who had pulled her away.

Who was he? Who?

Her eyes met blazing green-gold ones.

Almost the eyes of a leopard. It gave Keller a jolt. But the rest of the boy was different. Dark gold hair over a rather pale and strained face with perfectly sculpted features. Human, of course. And those eyes seemed to be blazing with worry and intensity rather than animal ferocity.

Not many people could look at an angry panther like that.

She heard his mental voice again. Are you all right?

And then, for just an instant, something happened. It was as if some barrier had been punctured. Keller felt not just his voice but his worry inside her head. She could feel... him.

His name... Galen. And he's someone born to command, she thought. He understands animals.

Another shapeshifter?

But I can't feel what animal he turns into. And there's no bloodtbirstiness at all....

She didn't understand it, and her panther brain wasn't in the mood to try. It was grounded in the here and now, and all it wanted was to finish what she had started.

She wrenched her eyes away from Galen and looked at the dragon.

Yes, he was still alive but badly wounded. A little snarl worked out of Keller's throat. The vampire thugs were still alive, too; one was picking up the injured dragon and hauling him away.

"Come on!" he was shouting in a voice sharp with panic. "Before that cat recovers-"

"But the girl!" the second vampire said. "We don't have the girl." He looked around. Diana was standing by a display of porcelain figures, looking just as pale and graceful as any of them. She had both hands at her throat and seemed to be in shock.

The second vampire started toward her.

Afo, Keller thought. But she couldn't get her legs to move. She could only lie helplessly and stare with burning eyes.

"No!" a voice beside her said, out loud this time. Galen was jumping up. He got between the vampire and Diana.

The vampire grinned, a particularly nasty grin. "You don't look like a fighter to me, pretty boy."

It wasn't exactly true, Keller thought. Galen wasn't pretty; he was beautiful. With that gold hair and his coloring, he looked like a prince from a storybook. A rather young and inexperienced prince. He stood his ground, his expression grim and determined.

"I won't let you get to her," he said steadily.

Who the hell is this guy? Keller thought

Iliana, pale and wide-eyed, glanced up at him, too. And then Keller saw her... melt. Her drawn features softened; her lips parted. Her eyes seemed to quiver with light. She had been cowering away from the vampire, but now her body relaxed just a little.

He certainly looked more like a champion defender than Keller had. He was clean, for one thing.

Keller's fur was matted with her own blood and the dragon's. More, she couldn't help the little raspy snarls of rage and despair she was making, showing dripping teeth in a red-stained muzzle.

Too bad he was about to be slaughtered.

He wasn't a fighter. Keller had seen the inside of his mind, and she knew he didn't have the tiger instinct.

The vampire was going to massacre him.

The vampire started forward.

And a voice from the front of the store said, "Hold it right there."

Chapter 3

Keller turned her head quickly.

Nissa was standing there, cool and imperturbable as always, one hand on her hip. Her short mink-colored hair wasn't even ruffled; her eyes, just a shade or two darker, were steady. And she was holding an ironwood fighting stick with a very sharp point.

Keller growled faintly in relief. You couldn't ask Nissa to be creative-her mind didn't work that way. But on any question of logic, she was unbeatable, and she had nerves of ice. More important right now, she was a superb fighter.

"If you want to play, why don't you try me?" she suggested, and whipped the fighting stick around expertly a few times. It whistled in the air, traced a complicated figure, and ended up casually across her shoulder. Then she slowly extended the point toward the vampire's throat.

"Yeah, and don't leave me out." This voice was husky and shaky but still grim. It came from behind the counter. Winnie was pulling herself up. She coughed once, then stood straight, facing the vampire.

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