Free Christian (Vampires in America: The Vampire Wars Book 10) by D.B. Reynolds

Swinging his arms wide, he slammed them together, crushing Christian’s shields between them, the power of his blow enhanced by the physical strength of his vampiric nature.
    It was a significant blow, but Christian saw it coming, and bumped up his shields in anticipation of the strike. The smell of ozone filled the air, as his shields sizzled, working to absorb and deflect the energy. But Noriega had put too much of his remaining power into the attack, and his shields were weakened. He’d also made the mistake of coming far too close to an enemy who was much stronger than he was.
    Bracing his feet, Christian punched through Noriega’s weakened shields, pushing even closer until they were only inches apart. He reached out and gripped Noriega by the throat, watching as shock replaced the anger in his opponent’s eyes. He saw the moment that Noriega discovered the true nature of Christian’s power, a power so dangerous that every vampire who knew of it was dead. Except for Marc.
    Christian flexed his fingers around Noriega’s throat, squeezing the breath from him. But the true death, the death that no vampire could survive, was the one delivered by his unique talent. Christian held Noriega’s stare as he drained the vampire of his power, sucking him dry like the vampire he was, and feeding his own power at the same time.
    Noriega’s eyes were wide with disbelief, with the knowledge of his own imminent death. There was anger, too. Anger that he’d been used by Anthony, that he’d been deceived by Christian. But that was life, and death, among powerful vampires. A territorial challenge was not a game played lightly, and death was always the result.
    Christian waited until Noriega’s power was a mere trickle, and then he leaned close and whispered, “I’ll give your regards to Anthony.” Before the spark of life left Noriega’s body, he snapped his neck, punched into his chest with his other hand, and ripped out his heart. A moment later, the vampire turned to dust in his hands.
    Christian’s heart was racing with the overload of energy that was always the result of using his gift. It was as if his enemy’s power was too much on top of his own. For the first few minutes, it always seemed impossible for his body to hold so much. He stared unseeing, hands flexing at his sides, as the cloud of dust that had been Noriega settled over the still-unconscious forms of his followers.
    A muffled feminine gasp drew his attention upward, and he caught a glimpse of Natalie’s face as she backed quickly away from the upstairs window. So she’d seen him fight, seen him kill , he thought, as he slapped his hands together, loosening the muscles and getting rid of the clinging remains of Noriega. He wondered what she made of it, whether she’d ever seen a true vampire confrontation before, and whether it would drive her home to the safety of her family in New Orleans.
    He frowned at the blood staining his hands and shirt, then rolled his sleeves down and buttoned them anyway. Taking the jacket Marc offered, he slipped it back on, shooting his cuffs as he shrugged his shoulders and settled the jacket in place. He didn’t like the idea of Natalie going back to New Orleans. He couldn’t have said why exactly, but he hoped she would stay.
    “Let’s go,” he growled to Marc, quite honestly furious with himself. “Noriega’s ambush was a surprise. And it shouldn’t have been.”
    “I didn’t think Anthony would risk one of his own so early in the game,” Marc said quietly. “If he was going to sacrifice someone, I’d have expected it to be one of the outsiders.”
    “Maybe he tried. Maybe they were too smart to trust him.”
    “Fucking Noriega,” Marc muttered.
    “Fucking Anthony,” Christian corrected. “Sending one of his own children to die. He had to know Noriega couldn’t best me. You know—” he said thoughtfully. “I was prepared to let Anthony retire to New Orleans when I become Lord of the South. But