Free Lord of the Shadows by Darren Shan

Harst said quietly. He hadn’t drawn his sword yet, but his right hand was hanging purposefully by his scabbard. “He’s a dangerous foe, even injured — don’t forget that.”
    “You think too much of the boy,” Steve purred, looking at me over his protector’s shoulder. “He won’t even be able to get up with a wound like that.”
    “Won’t I?” I snorted, and pushed myself to my feet just to spite him. A red curtain descended for the second time, but again it passed after a couple of seconds. When my sight cleared, I saw Steve grinning wickedly — he’d goaded me to my feet on purpose, to string more entertainment out of me.
    Waving the arrow shaft around at the four men, I backed away. Each step was torture, the pain in my right shoulder flaring up at the slightest movement. It was clear that I couldn’t get very far, but Gannen was taking no chances. He sent R.V. to my left and James to my right, blocking my route in both directions.
    I stopped, weaving heavily on my feet, woozily trying to formulate a plan. I knew only Steve could kill me — Des Tiny had predicted doom for the vampaneze if anybody other than their Lord killed any of the vampire hunters — but the others could hold me down for him.
    “Let’s finish him off quickly,” Gannen Harst said, finally drawing his sword. “He is at our mercy. Let’s not waste time.”
    “Take it easy,” Steve chuckled. “I want to see him bleed a bit more.”
    “And if he bleeds to death from your son’s arrow?” Gannen snapped.
    “He won’t,” Steve said. “Darius shot exactly where I trained him to.” Steve glanced back at the boy and caught his troubled look. “Are you OK?”
    “Yes,” Darius croaked. “I just didn’t think it would be so . . . so . . . ”
    “Bloody,” Steve said. He nodded understandingly. “You did good work tonight. You don’t have to watch the rest if you don’t want to.”
    “How did . . .
you
end up with . . . a son?” I gasped, playing for time, hoping an escape would present itself.
    “A long, twisted story,” Steve said, facing me again. “One I’ll delight in telling you before I drive a stake through your heart!”
    “You got that . . . the wrong way round.” I laughed bleakly. “
I’ll
be the one doing . . . the killing tonight.”
    “Optimistic to the last.” Steve smirked. He cocked a devilish eyebrow at me. “How did Tommy die — with dignity, or like that squealing pig Crepsley?”
    At that, something snapped inside me. I screamed a foul insult at Steve and, without thinking, hurled my baton at him. With blind luck, it struck his forehead and he dropped with a startled grunt.
    Gannen Harst instinctively swung away from me, to check on his Lord. As soon as he made his move, I made mine. Jumping at Morgan James, I lashed out with the arrow shaft. He took a quick step back to avoid being speared. As he did, I smashed into him with my wounded right shoulder. I howled with pain as the arrowhead was forced deeper into my flesh, but my ploy worked — James toppled over.
    The path ahead was momentarily clear. I stumbled forward, grasping my right shoulder with my left hand, pressing hard around the hole where the arrow- head was buried, trying to stem the flow of blood, weeping with agony. Behind me I heard Steve shout, “I’m OK! Chase him! Don’t let him get away!”
    If I hadn’t been injured, I might have had enough of a head start on them. But I could manage nothing faster than a slow jog. It was only a matter of seconds before they’d catch up with me.
    As I lurched away, my pursuers hot on my heels, a door to one of the buildings on my left opened and a large man stuck his head out. “What’s all the noise about?” he shouted angrily. “Some of us are trying to —”
    “Help!” I screamed on impulse. “Murder!”
    The man threw the door all the way open and stepped out. “What’s going on?” he yelled.
    I looked back at Steve and the others. They’d come to a halt. I had