Seymour’s bottomless eyes went blank as his neck snapped. He collapsed into a heap on the ground, dropping Ginny back down to the concrete.
Vampires couldn’t die from a broken neck, though, could they?
Her question was answered when Seymour twitched and started to stand, despite the nausea-inducing injuries to his person.
Jonas straddled the man’s chest with what appeared to be a broken chair leg clutched tightly in his hand. A makeshift stake? Jonas was saying something, but she could barely make it out. She started to take a hesitant step forward when an arm wrapped around her waist, yanking her backward until she met the side of the car with Tucker and Elias blocking her view.
“That was one crazy move, sweetheart,” Tucker said over his shoulder. “She has a couple of beers, all of a sudden she’s living life on the edge.”
“I can’t believe a human is growing on me,” Elias muttered from behind his raised collar.
She couldn’t take the time to be flattered. Not when she was too eager to hear the exchange between Jonas and Seymour. Holding on to Tucker’s jacket sleeve, she inserted her face between her own private vampire shield and listened.
“Why did you come for her?” Jonas shouted at the felled vampire. “Tell me.”
“Why else?” The old vampire’s laugh chugged like an engine, but it held a tinge of sadness. “Your father.”
Seymour’s head had been bent at an unnatural angle, but his neck shifted slowly now to the sound of tendons stretching. Tucker and Elias tensed on either side of Ginny, a split second before Seymour sprang up and made a grab for the stake—but it was too late. Jonas arced the weapon down with considerable force and penetrated the right side of Seymour’s chest, resulting in a loud whistling sound—and pop.
Ashes floated where the old vampire had once been.
Jonas dropped to his knees in the floating debris and hung his head. “Goddammit.” A shudder traveled across his shoulder muscles and then he was on his feet, blurring to the spot right in front of her. Tucker and Elias were pushed apart, leaving her crouched sideways like the world’s most obvious eavesdropper. “Ginny,” he said, his voice lethally quiet. “You got. Out. Of the car.”
She straightened and brushed off her skirt, reluctant to witness the accusation and outrage in his gaze. “I was trying to motivate you.”
“You agreed to stay put,” he gritted out, gripping her shoulders.
“I had my fingers crossed,” she whispered, heat stealing up her neck. “Please try and remember we’re very close to my birthday.”
He made a choked sound. “Do not make jokes when I’ve just come close to losing you.” Twin sparks launched in his eyes. “You are a threat to my very sanity.”
Indignation poked her in the side like a thorn. “Do you think it was easy sit here and watch you fight for your life?”
“Forgive me if I’m not prepared to be reasonable over you trying to get yourself killed,” Jonas growled, reaching behind her and opening the door, urging her into the backseat while Tucker and Elias reclaimed their spots up front.
Silence cracked in the dark car like a whip.
“Once again, a vampire’s hatred for your sire and his cut-throat policies puts you—and this time, her—in the crossfire,” Elias said finally. “How long are you going to pretend your connection to him is inconsequential?”
Jonas’s jaw popped in response. “There are far more vampires that support me than want me dead over some perceived connection to him that no longer exists.” He paused. “The threat has been handled. That’s what’s important now.” He frowned out the car window. “Clarence told me stories of Elders developing foresight. Seymour must have been one of them. How else would he have known about Ginny before I met her?”
The question lingered in the air, until Tucker smacked Elias in the shoulder. “Are we just going to pretend he doesn’t have dope-ass abilities now, or…” When he got no response from the passenger, he turned in his seat. “You just staked a billion-year-old vampire like you were spreading mayo on a slice of Wonder Bread. You don’t want to chat about it?”
“She was in danger,” Elias said. “His mat—”
“That’s impossible and you know it,” Jonas cut in, securing Ginny’s seatbelt like she was a three-year-old child. “Drive us to the funeral home.”
With a squeal of tires, Tucker accelerated the car and whipped onto the street, turning the stereo on and drumming the steering wheel along with the thumping bass. Jonas found the blindfold on the seat, but before he could tie it over Ginny’s eyes, she closed them and turned her face into his chest instead.
His arms came around her slowly, the pressure increasing until he was squeezing her tight.
“Someone tried to kill you, love. Because of who I am. Who I was. And yet you trust me, take risks for me…you cling to me anyway.” He mapped her forehead with kisses. “I should be shaking sense into you. Instead I want to kneel and thank fate.”