Midnight Craving: Midnight Vice, Book 1 (7 page)

He grasped her hand and gave it a squeeze. Their eyes locked. “We’re going to be fine. You’re going to

be fine.”

All the anxiety fled from Isla’s system as Jace held her hand and reassured her with his pep talk. In that

instant, she knew that whatever happened, for better or worse, she was going to be all right. She smiled

warmly. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” Jace tipped her chin with his knuckles and claimed her lips in a deep kiss. When he

pulled back, he held her gaze for a long moment. “Let’s go.”

Isla climbed out of the driver’s seat and quickly buttoned and zipped her pants. She slipped her keys

into her pocket and shut her door. The scent of sulfur hung heavy and ripe in the air. Jace at her side, she

hurried to the front door of the house. Her chest tightened. Shards of glass littered the flagstone steps. The

thick wood of the Craftsman door had been cracked with such force it had disintegrated in spots, leaving

nothing but piles of dust and wood chips. The sounds of combat met her ears.

Just the thought of losing Renata to the demons made her angry. Spurred into action, Isla hopped

through the busted-out door and into the foyer of the home. A pair of gutted vampires were bleeding out

onto the marble floors. Black blood seeped across the gleaming stone. She skirted the sticky pools and

moved quickly toward the sounds of exertion. Her hand drifted to her hip—and felt nothing.

Isla mouthed a cuss word as she realized she’d forgotten to buckle her tactical belt. It must have fallen

off when she’d stood up. Without missing a beat, she lifted her right knee and snatched a butterfly knife

from the holster strapped to her ankle. A few flicks of her wrist and the menacing blade unfurled itself.

Now armed, she surged forward with purpose, her predator instincts alighting within her.

She moved swiftly through the halls and connected rooms. Jace breathed down her neck, his body so

close to hers she could feel the pulses of adrenaline-fueled energy he emitted. As they neared the kitchen,

the angry snarls and sharp hisses of demons and vampires locked in battle grew louder.

Isla glanced over her shoulder. Already that fine amber sheen covered Jace’s eyes, granting him the

terrifying glint of angelic supremacy. His smell had shifted and the scent of frankincense and myrrh radiated

from his skin. The archangel blood in him was awakening. Even now, she couldn’t help but wonder if he

ever felt that instinctive need to smite her.

Side by side, they burst through the wide arched doorway. Two demons inhabiting shells of human

males fought viciously against five vampires. Three lifeless vamp carcasses littered the limestone floor, their

bodies displaying gaping chest and neck wounds.

Knowing Jace would take out the demons, Isla zeroed in on the closest vampire. Pulling fire energy into

her palm, she leapt at the vampire’s back and slapped him with her fiery hand. An earsplitting shriek

ricocheted off the pumpkin-colored walls as his entire head burst into flames. Bracing her hands on the

granite countertop behind her, Isla donkey-kicked the blazing vamp in the chest, rocketing him through the

French doors and out onto the patio to immolate.

In a split second, another vampire hurled toward her. With his enhanced speed, the contact between

their bodies felt like a Mac truck ramming into her shoulder. They crashed into a china hutch. Glass and

porcelain shattered and rained down on their bodies. A sliver of wood caught the back of Isla’s hoodie and

kept her from standing. Captured, she jerked her shoulders while fending off the razor-sharp swipes of the

vampire’s claws. The vamp slit her left cheek. She gasped and threw her foot into his balls. Howling in

pain, he jumped back and doubled over.

Isla yanked away hard, the wood splitting her hoodie straight down the back. She snatched the spike-

like piece of wood and rounded back on the vampire, slamming the makeshift spike into his heart. His jaw

dropped as he stiffened and crumpled to the ground. Flames erupted from his chest and consumed his

body.

Isla shook off the remnants of her ruined hoodie and wiped the blood from her face. Jace had already

dealt with two vampires, leaving one more for her. In a killing groove, she made quick work of dispatching

the last bloodsucker before turning her attention to the demons tag-teaming Jace.

Watching Jace engaged in hand-to-hand combat knocked the breath from Isla’s lungs. She’d seen him

in action before but never like this. He was a man possessed as he swung his fist and landed jaw-crunching

punches, the blessed iron knuckles wrapped around his fingers leaving massive dents in the faces of the

demons. His well-practiced Savate kicks and swipes broke kneecaps. Antifreeze-tinged bile erupted from

the wounds on the demons’ faces. The blond demon teetered on his feet, obviously not long for the count.

Their eyes met across the kitchen. Isla read Jace’s expression and snatched a salt shaker from the

countertop. She’d barely unscrewed and tossed aside the cap when the blond demon was kicked her way.

Isla caught the demon by the front of his bile-stained shirt and rammed the salt shaker down his throat, his

teeth grazing the skin right off her knuckles as she punched it down. He choked and flailed futilely as the

salt burned his gullet like battery acid. Swinging him around, Isla clamped him against her front. She

gripped his jaw and forced his neck back and to the right, bulging the major artery there. With a quick slash

of her knife, she dropped him. His body convulsed and deflated, melting into the floor and disappearing

back to hell.

As Isla wiped the bile from the blade onto her jeans, Jace neutralized his demon by shoving an iron

communion wafer down its throat. A sharp crack filled the air when Jace snapped the demon’s neck. For a

moment, the only sounds in the kitchen were their heavy pants. The stink of burning flesh and sulfur

irritated Isla’s nose. Still trying to catch her breath, she stared at Jace. He practically glowed, the aura

surrounding him like something out of a religious painting. Splotches of demonic bile peppered his shirt

and splattered his skin. No doubt she looked just as bad.

From down below came footsteps and voices.

“Wine cellar?” Jace pointed to an adjacent door.

“Good place to hide a coffin full of dirt.”

They cautiously approached the door. Jace switched out the rounds in his sidearm and made ready to

enter first. Her hand steadied on the knob. They communicated silently. At his stiff nod, Isla wrenched

open the door. He quickly descended the stone stairs, Isla just a few steps behind, her hand aflame. The

smell of dank dirt filled her nostrils. Oh, yes, Renata was down here all right.

As they rounded the curve of the stairwell, a protective ring of four vampires came into view. They

encircled a large shipping crate. Dirt clods had been scattered about, probably from Renata burrowing into

the Hungarian soil to heal.

Weapon raised, Jace wasted no time in picking off the first two vamps his aim settled upon. The liquid-

capped bullets exploded within their bodies, spilling a toxic mix of garlic juice and holy water. Hissing, they

clawed at their oozing chests as they fell to their knees and slowly expired.

But before Jace could pop off his next two rounds, the crate exploded. Amid a cloud of dirt, wood

chunks bounced off the walls and ceiling. Isla brought her forearm up to shield her face from the debris. At

the sound of fists contacting skin, she lowered her arm. There were suddenly four more vampires in the

room and they had Jace.
Where the hell did you come from?

Jace fought against his captors but it was no use. There were too many of them. Isla lifted her knife,

ready to fight to the death—and then Renata spoke. “Look at me.”

Isla resisted the dreamy whisper.

“Look at me.”

Renata repeated it like a mantra, each time louder and more powerful. Isla tried to keep her gaze

focused on Jace’s imploring eyes but it was futile. She couldn’t disobey Renata. The pull was far stronger

than any she’d ever felt. The knife fell from her fingers and clattered to the ground. She turned toward

Renata.

In the instant their eyes met, absolute agony seized Isla’s body. The fever and the need were so strong

she feared her blood would boil in her veins. Wetness pooled between her thighs. Nausea roiled in the pit

of her stomach. Eyes locked on the rejuvenated vampiress, Isla collapsed to the ground and convulsed, her

body jerking so hard she just knew her bones were going to snap.

Through the haze of misery, she heard only thing. Jace. Screaming her name.

As Isla flopped on the stones, Jace felt something inside him snap. They’d come too far to lose it all

now. He’d die before he let Renata slaughter Isla as she had her family. From somewhere deep inside, the

full force of his angelic heritage surged. Time seemed to slow as he broke free of the hands holding him

captive.

Grabbing fistfuls of the shirts on either side of him, he slammed together the heads of the two vampires.

There was an explosion of broken fangs and dark black vamp blood. He dropped the unconscious duo and

launched into the fray.

It was a blur of hands and feet, snapping fangs, swiping claws and hisses. Without his gun he was no

less lethal. Like Isla, he kept weapons strapped to his ankles, in this case a pair of blood-stained wooden

stakes that had saved his life more than once over the years. Wielding them like fighting knives, he swung

and stabbed, using them defensively as much as offensively. He hooked his right foot behind the knee of

the vampire just to his right. As the off balance vampire lurched forward, Jace planted the stake in his heart.

He wasted no time, jerking the stake free as the vampire burst into flames and attacking another

bloodsucker. The momentary shock of seeing his partner ablaze gave Jace all the edge he needed. With a

violent swing, he hit the sweet spot. He slammed his heel against the stunned vamp’s belly, freed the stake

and sent him hurtling backward.

Facing off against the last two drones, Jace set his sights on the weakest of the pair. They traded blows

and blocked kicks, circling as they bobbed and weaved. The vampire swiped at Jace with his scarily sharp

claws and slit open the black leather arm of his jacket. Narrowly averting a serious injury, Jace jumped back

and to the side. He tried to read the vampire’s face, to anticipate the undead bastard’s next move. When the

vampire jumped forward, Jace leaned to the right. With a backhanded move, he slammed the stake straight

through the vamp’s back and almost into his heart. The vampire gasped with surprise and desperately tried

to remove the stake. With the heel of his boot, Jace shoved the stake home. The vampire went rigid and fell

forward.

Realizing he’d lost track of the last vampire, Jace spun around.
Where is he?

The cold sensation of metal knocked against his temple. His own gun. The vampire was using Jace’s

own gun against him. An arm curled around his throat, and he was drawn back against the vampire’s chest.

The barrel of his pistol bit into his skin. Jace swallowed hard, ready to meet his death with dignity. That

he’d failed Isla would haunt his everlasting life.

“No!” Renata sharply intervened. “I want him to see.”

Jace was forced into an about face. Renata’s wickedly amused grin turned his stomach. She’d stopped

tormenting Isla but the damage was done.

Isla tried to catch her breath, her cheeks shiny with tears. Blood dribbled from the corner of her mouth.

From a bitten tongue or lip, Jace couldn’t tell. As if frozen in agony, her body remained stiff and bent. Jace

could only imagine the utter torture the woman he absolutely adored endured at that moment.

Adore? I fucking love her.
That sudden realization made what happened next even more heart-

wrenching for him to watch.

“Isla,” Renata purred.

“Leave her alone, you bat-faced bitch!”

Renata fixed him with a furious gaze. “Shh!”

Jace’s throat tightened. He couldn’t talk. She’d taken his voice.

“Isla,” Renata continued in her dreamlike voice. “I know you’re on fire. I know what you need.” Renata

ran her hands down her body, outlining her ancient curves through the gauzy film of her nightgown. “You

can feel my touch. Doesn’t it feel lovely?”

On the ground, Isla panted and jerked. Jace could only surmise that Renata’s touch transferred to Isla’s

body. It made him sick to see Renata fondling her own breasts, tweaking the nipples, rolling them between

her fingers. When Renata’s hand drifted lower, disgust rose within him. One hand on her breast, Renata

cupped the filmy fabric to her sex. She played with her clitoris and dipped her fingers inside.