The Lost Elixir

Chapter Seventeen

Rayne whirled around to face the three emerging beings breaking through the clearing.

Two of their shirts were crusted with dark blood, inflicted by an unseen wound. The third vampire, a narrowly-built man with tightly wound curls and full lips, sent a sickening smile that stretched across hollow cheeks. Clutched in his dark brown fist is a lengthy arrow with blood still dripping off the tip of it.

They were unrecognizable at the time in their floor-length cloaks, but after catching sight of their wounds, she knew without a doubt it was them. Before her stood the three vampires she shot at during target practice when they were bothering the nymphs.

Glowing red eyes lingered on Jarrah, registering and watching. A knowing smile brushed the third vampire's lips, slow and deliberate.

Jarrah stiffened like a statue at Rayne's side. Cautiously, she removed her fingers from the bowl of tendons and mentally prepared herself for the inevitable fight.

She was the first to stand to her feet. One look at Jarrah's ashen face and she knew he had retreated to a place she couldn't go, leaving her in a situation she'd have to handle on her own. She stepped forward in their direction, rolling her shoulders back and keeping her head high. In her makeshift pocket burned an arrowhead she and Jarrah were working on, and she slid a hand into the hole to grip it between her fingers.

The three vampires snapped their crimson gazes to her after she moved forward. Good, she thought. She didn't like the way they watched Jarrah.

"Looks like our little prince has brought another friend for us to meet," the third vampire chuckled, his laugh sending cold shivers down Rayne's spine as the hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention. "And a girl this time."

Jarrah made a strange sound in the back of his throat at that. Rayne's teeth snapped warningly, her body rigid. "Stay away from us," she growled, her fists clenched at her sides.

"Confident, too," the second vampire commented, running a smooth hand over his chin. His bloody eyes briefly flickered over to the silent king, amusement then taking control of his voice. "You seem to have a pattern here, King of Fae. Did the last one teach you nothing?"

Rayne's anger sparked. The arrow between her fingers hummed against her clammy palm, patiently waiting for the right opportunity to be used. "I see your sire didn't teach you blood-drinking bastards any manners. If that old man had, surely you would know to talk to me rather than about me."

Vampire one and two bristled, but the coily-haired vampire wasn't phased. In fact, he even leaned forward, his eyes roaming over her fierce features with a calculating curiosity in his gaze.

"Our apologies, young alpha," he murmured, a sly smirk overtaking his lips. His fingers twirled the sharp, jagged arrowhead he had pulled from his thigh against the padding of his other forefinger. "We didn't mean to offend you. We just haven't seen your little king in quite a long time, you see. About three years to be exact, huh Percy?"

"Sounds about right, Sias," Percy, the other speaker, agreed. The last vampire, the largest of the three of them, simply cracked his knuckles.

She had her target.

Rayne still, however, found her eyes rolling to the back of her head. "Villain speeches, so predictable. Let's move your death along, shall we?"

Before the vampires could register Rayne's quick wrist flick, the sizable one of the trio was down with a sharp arrowhead nestled comfortably in the side of his throat. He fell to his knees and wrapped a pale palm around the wound as he choked and gasped for air over the gurgle of blood. He'd figure out a way to dig it out and heal himself, but not before he passed out, which would give Rayne plenty of time to stake him afterwards.