Surprise flitted in Gian’s expression at Edmund’s implication of his hunt. Silence ensured. Then the man nodded.
“That’s right.”
“Indeed. I will see you at the next party, then.” Fighting instinct, he leaned a bit and winked. “And let’s keep this to ourselves.”
He backed off and spun around, pretending he had all the time in the world to gallivant around. He didn’t bank on the fact that none of Gian’s other clan members—who were scattered in the forest, he was sure of it—had followed him, sprinting when he was out of their radar and doubling back using an alternate path to make sure there were no shifters around. He needed to warn them. He needed to protect the stricken woman who had come into his place and had disappeared in the blink of an eye, only because he refused to get in trouble with a man he had lost to once. She would be helpless in the hands of vampires. She would be a frightened, shivering mess who needed him more than anything and—
“Heads up!”
—barked out a warning as if he was the one in danger.
He ducked, still not comprehending why but answering the sharp tone out of instinct. He glimpsed the blur of a red figure before it became brown. Then it transformed into something else, landing inches from him in huge paws and claws that could easily tear his throat out. It registered that she wasn’t even in full bear form yet, some parts still human. Edmund’s eyes widened as they swiped, but not at him.
The vampire behind him hissed, then lasered in on her with murder in mind. But she had anticipated it, too, jumping back at the snap of fangs, then standing on hind legs to tower over them. The vampire stilled, becoming uncertain at the shift in height. She took advantage, growling once to assert her dominance, a voice quaking with a tightness that had the vampire paling. He scampered away in a blur, disappearing in between some bushes.
“Coward,” she called out, back in her human form and tugging on a torn portion of her shirt. She turned.
“Wait.”
“If you want to come with me, come. There’s no time to talk—”
“They have your scent. You can’t go back to your territory unless you want to lead them there.” That got her attention. An accusing look was sent his way, but he held up his hands. “It’s not my fault. They were on you before I bumped into them.”
“They?”
“I know them. Kind of.”
There was no time for elaborating, not when he could feel his instincts tingle once more. Perhaps she did, too, as she nodded reluctantly and waited for him to stand.
“I know a shortcut.”
“Then, by all means, lead the way.”
He waited for the flash and it came without hesitation, her speed a sight to behold and her senses so attuned to her environment. He deduced she could do this with her eyes closed and tested that theory, picking up a pebble and throwing it at her. She ducked and switched directions, still confident in her path even while she glowered at him.
“Are you insane?”
“That was impressive,” he praised, awed. “I have never seen a shifter move that fast. Granted, I have never been around your kind much save for your cousin, but I wasn’t with him during a situation like this.”
“Stop talking. Your voice carries through the wind.”
“It’s amazing. I thought we were the fastest, but you could give us a run for our money…well, them. Not me.”
“I swear if you keep up with the commentary—duck!”
He did, then pushed her out of the way when she stood her ground without taking into account the three vampires leaping towards her at the same time. Edmund kicked the nearest one and heard the telltale groan when the vampire crashed on the other two, but he didn’t check as he yanked her to her feet.
“Do you see what I’m talking about?” she protested, pointing and running.
“Yes. They were following us all along. Now, you duck.”
“What—” Her question ended on a growl as two more came flying at them, but he was more than ready this time. He leaped into the air and twirled, effectively speeding his descent straight onto one vampire’s back and hurling the momentum of crashing bodies towards the other. He then pushed off and landed on a branch, swinging once to view his surroundings before he landed beside her.
“That was great teamwork.”
Her mouth dropped open, then closed. “There’s no teamwork. Do you think it’s funny to draw them towards us with your shenanigans and…” Gray orbs widened, the color so much clearer in the moonlight than in his abode.
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” he mused loudly, then signaled at her to keep quiet. So did he. The next few minutes became a run without any sound at all, their feet lighter than the rustling wind and their dependence on each other undeniable: her ability to deduce the best way to go and his ability to hone knowledge of the Mortimers and what they would do.