Free Violette Dubrinsky by Under a Crescent Moon Page B

try,” Victor returned, with a chilling smile.
    “Wait!” Azaleigh called, sensing a fight was close. She addressed Dorian. “If you’re telling the truth and you’re his father, how did Victor come to be Antoinette’s Protector?”
    “Because she’s a witch! She put a spell on him, wiped clean any memories he had of life before her, and did something to change him into this!” Dorian spread his hands in disgust. Addressing Victor once more, the king spoke. “If you come with me, the Georgia Night Walkers won’t come to Hallows Brook again.”
    “I don’t believe anything you say.”
    “So that’s your answer, Victor? You’re turning your back on your people?”
    “My people are here, in Hallows Brook.”
    “So be it,” Dorian murmured. Before she could blink, he attacked Victor. Azaleigh screamed a warning, but Victor had expected it, and rolled with the fast creature, pulling a broad, wicked-looking dagger out of the air so quick she might have missed it if she weren’t paying close attention. He aimed for the heart, but Dorian disappeared before the sharp blade could slice through his skin. He reappeared over Victor seconds later. With a flick of his wrist, the vampire threw him across the way and moved to her. Lifting her arm, Azaleigh blasted him with her light, but he didn’t go back like the others. In fact, he roared and pushed forward, the white light parting on either side of him like misty wings as he advanced. Before Dorian could reach her, Victor caught him by the neck and tossed him back. His body thudded, and Azaleigh was certain something snapped, as he hit the asphalt. Within seconds, Victor was leaping at the vampire with a roar that sounded so familiar to Dorian’s, Azaleigh was unsure who’d emitted it.
    Groaning at her weakening powers, she fell to the ground, trying to conserve her energy. Something told her she’d need it.
    “You would choose a witch over blood?” Dorian screamed between vicious blows to Victor’s body.
    Victor pushed him back with a jab to the vampire’s chest, and rushed him once more, dagger drawn.
    “Forty years your mother cried blood tears!” Victor hesitated, and it was all Dorian needed to wrangle the weapon away. “I sent men after you, your own Clan, who ended up dead by your hands!”
    As he advanced, the weapon gleaming despite the dim streetlamps, Victor backed away.
    Fear leapt in Azaleigh’s throat. “Wait! Please!”
    Dorian glared at her. The anger emanating from his body was so hot, Azaleigh was surprised she didn’t combust.
    “Antoinette’s dead, but you still live, witch. When I’m done with him, I’ll carve you open and drink you dry like I would’ve done Antoinette if I’d gotten the chance.”
    “You won’t touch her!”
    Victor charged. They were scrapping again, two blurred creatures bloodying each other and healing so quickly she might have doubted the cuts she saw, were it not for the lines of red that marred their skins.
    Dorian suddenly grabbed Victor by the neck and faster than she could blink, lifted up the bigger man and rammed him into the brick-laid road. She heard a loud crack, and was instinctively moving forward when Dorian ripped into Victor’s neck. He spat out a huge chunk of bloodied flesh. Somehow, Victor found his feet and fumbled backward, holding the bleeding wound. He grew pale as blood gushed through the seams of his fingers, soaking his shirt. Azaleigh screamed.
    “Afraid to lose your zombie lap-dog, witch?” Dorian hurled the hateful words, coming at her with such speed, she barely managed to lift a hand to keep him at bay. Coiling his hands in her hair, his sharp nails opened her tender scalp. He pulled, hauling her up. Her scalp burned Dorian marched her over to Victor. “Your slave is dying. Save him.”
    He pushed her onto Victor, now lying prone on the street with unfocused eyes. Azaleigh’s heart pounded in her ears. There was so much blood, haloing his head, soaking the front of his