BEFORE THE FALL - A Dark Breed Novella Page 0,1

a few feet behind him. He slipped the weapons from his back pocket and pivoted to face the Vampyre kneeling over Ernest’s body.

He was too late.

Damn it.

The Vampyre bared its fangs and hissed. Zach didn’t heed the warning. Gripping the weapons, he rushed forward.

The beast soared over Zach’s head. It lashed out with its razor-sharp claws, slicing across his chest. Feeding off the adrenaline rush of being back in the middle of the fight again after so long numbed the pain and kept him on his feet.

When the Vamp sprung again, it kicked the weapons from Zach’s hands. He barely had time to locate them again before the Dark Breed was behind him, digging claws into Zach’s shoulder. He reached back and grabbed it by its long hair, flipping it over his shoulder. It landed at his feet, but before he could pin it with his boot heel, it rose and flew at Zach, hitting him dead in the chest.

The force sent him backward, tripping over Ernest’s ravaged body. As the beast came at him again, Zach gripped it by its throat in an attempt to protect his own. They crashed to the ground. He lost his hold, and before he could regain it, long, deadly fingers closed around his neck. Without his weapons, he was fucked. The Vamp would overpower him in a second and there wouldn’t be a thing Zach could do about it except bend over and kiss his own ass goodbye.

The need for air had him struggling, mindlessly shoving at the claws holding him captive. They wouldn’t give. Desperate to breathe again, Zach brought his legs up and closed them around the demon’s neck, locking his ankles behind its head. As he tightened the pressure, he arched onto his shoulders, twisting until the weight of the demon lifted from him. Unwilling to give it a shot at breaking his legs, Zach quickly released his hold and rolled toward the spike lying a few feet away.

He flipped onto his back just as the Vamp lunged at him again. As it came down, Zach drove the silver between its eyes. The inhuman howl that followed sent Zach searching for his dagger. Locating it beside the recliner, he rushed for it, gripped the hilt in both hands, and dropped to his knees, driving the knife deep into the Vampyre’s neck. Using all his weight, he shoved the blade into the floor, pinning the fucker to the wooden planks beneath the shag carpet. As the Dark Breed peered up at him, the agony of the silver penetrating its blood etched all over its face, Zach twisted the dagger and forced it backward, severing the beast’s head from its body.

His chest heaving from more exertion than he’d experienced in a long time, Zach struggled to his feet and stumbled toward Ernest. Even though he knew it was too late, he knelt beside the old man’s body and checked for a pulse. There wasn’t one.

Zach closed his eyes, wishing he’d left his house just a few minutes sooner. Maybe he could have saved the old guy. Maybe the cops wouldn’t have to tell Mrs. Murphy that she’d just become a widow.

Loathing the needless death and the evil that had caused it, Zach pulled a knitted blanket from beneath the overturned sofa and covered Ernest with it before leaving that house and sprinting back to his own.

Adrenaline making him dizzy, he checked on Mrs. Murphy—pleased to find her still breathing—and moved into the kitchen, where he dug through the mess on the counter to find his cell phone. Before he could punch in the number of his old friend, a bright red glow spilling from the cracks of the old wooden box he kept on top of the refrigerator caught his eye.

For several seconds Zach simply stared at it. He’d retired from the Order of Ancients nearly ten years ago and had tucked away the stupid necklace shortly thereafter, certain it would never again be used.

Apparently, he’d been wrong.

The beacon was his call back to war. Back to a life he’d been sure he’d never be given access to again.

His entire body grew feverishly hot and his brain became so thick with thoughts, he couldn’t tell if he was pleased or worried by the bright red glow still holding his attention.

It didn’t matter. Whatever he felt, he had to answer that damned call.

Sliding the beacon from the box, he slipped the chain around his neck with one hand while the other punched in