Free Bloodlines (Demons of Oblivion) by Skyla Dawn Cameron

numbing agent. I tore through the room, snatched the gun from the man who shot me, and sent a bullet into his skull. It turned out to be a lot messier than simply snapping necks or even stabbing, but, as I said, the time for subtleties was way over.
    I turned and fired two more bullets into two other guards. Each man fell to the floor, dead.
    Funny, there should have been a couple more...and as I scanned the bodies in the room, I knew there were definitely several men missing.
    Jamie was only left with one more. He knocked him hard on the side of the head, then tossed him toward me. I broke his neck and he slumped to the ground.
    I swung my gun up and aimed at Jamie just as he did the same.
    We stood there for a few silent moments, each eyeing the barrel of the gun facing us. Bodies piled all around. Yep, knew this night would turn into a Tarantino movie.
    Normally I’d happily assume I was fast enough to disarm my opponent, but he’d demonstrated way more speed than an average human. I suspected he was thinking the same thing about me.
    “So you’re a vampire too, I suppose,” he said with a grin.
    “Small world, isn’t it?”
    “I thought you seemed a little cold.”
    “Speaking of which, you were pretty warm. When was the last time you fed?”
    “About fifteen minutes before I approached you at the party. Cute little hors d’oeuvres server.”
    “I didn’t taste any blo—oh, the cinnamon.”
    “Less suspicious than toothpaste.”
    “Clever.”
    “I thought so.”
    Neither of us moved for thirty seconds more. Still watching me, Jamie lowered his gun slowly. I waited a beat longer, then did the same.
    “Well, my dear, I’d love to discuss some more tricks of the undead trade, but I’ve got someone to kill.” He tucked the gun in his belt and stepped over some corpses to make it to the door.
    “That wouldn’t be the elder O’Connor, would it?”
    Jamie turned back to me. “Yes it would be—why?”
    “I’ve already taken care of that.”
    “Jesus Christ!” His expression sank. It was still pretty adorable, truth be told—especially with his hair all mussed up after the fight. “I’m in trouble. Maybe I can get something for the son.”
    “Sorry—he’s mine.”
    O’Connor’s antique, four-poster bed lay between Jamie and me. I grabbed the nearest post, put one foot on the end of the bed, and vaulted myself into the air. I swung around on the pole and slammed my heel square into Jamie’s chest.
    He staggered back a few feet. “Wow, you’re good on that pole. So I guess we won’t be picking up where we left off earlier?” Jamie dropped into a fighting stance, as if he already knew the answer to that question.
    “After I’ve taken out Nate, we can talk.”
    He dodged my next few hits, then tried to throw some of his own.
    “I really don’t like to hit girls,” he admitted.
    I blocked both punches, and ducked out of the way of his next uppercut. “Doesn’t look like that’ll be a problem.”
    “You know, that guy with the fake invitation I hired was supposed to keep out anyone else uninvited tonight.” Another attempted punch, and I caught his arm and swung him across the room.
    “I guess I’ve got better resources,” I said with a shrug.
    “I’ll say,” he replied as he hopped to his feet. “Care to introduce me?”
    “I’m thinking no.”
    He pulled out the gun and aimed it at me.
    “Sorry, sweetie, but I really don’t have time for this.” He repeatedly fired at me.
    I evaded the first three shots, but the fourth caught me in the abdomen, causing me to stumble back. It pierced my skin, burning my insides as it tore into me. Though the bullet couldn’t kill me, it remained lodged in my stomach. My steps slowed and I winced, fought not to show the pain but likely failed considerably.
    “You put a hole in my fucking dress!” I said. “Why do people keep ruining my clothes?”
    “I’ll make it up to you sometime,” he promised with a grin.
    “Keep dreaming.” I