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In short order, the clearing was empty of lessers. With another deafening roar, the beast wheeled around as if looking for more to consume. Finding no other slayers, its eyes focused on the Escalade.

“Can it get into the car?” Butch asked.

“If it really wants to. Fortunately, it can’t be very hungry.”

“Yeah, well…what if it’s got room for Jell-o,” Butch muttered.

The beast shook its head, black mane tossing in the moonlight. Then it howled and charged at them, running on two legs. The pounding of its stride called thunder and tremors out of the earth.

Butch checked the door lock one more time. Then thought about being a pansy and maybe hitting the floor.

The creature stopped right next to the SUV and fell into a crouch. It was close enough so its breath fogged Butch’s window on the exhale, and up close, the thing was hideous. White narrowed eyes. Snarling jowls. And the full set of fangs in its gaping mouth was right out of a fever nightmare. Black blood ran down its chest like crude oil.

The beast lifted its muscled forelegs.

Jesus, those claws were like daggers. Made Freddie Krueger’s set of fun and games look like pipe cleaners.

But Rhage was in there. Somewhere.

Butch put his hand to the window, as if he could reach the brother.

The creature cocked its head, white eyes blinking. Abruptly it heaved a great breath, and then the massive body started to shake. A high, piercing cry came out of its throat, cracking through the night. There was another flash of brilliance. And then Rhage was lying naked on the ground.

Butch threw open the car door and knelt by his friend.

Rhage shook uncontrollably on the dirt and grass, his skin clammy, his eyes squeezed shut, his mouth moving slowly. There was black blood all over his face, in his hair, down his chest. His stomach was horribly distended. And there was a small hole in his shoulder where the bullet had hit him.

Butch yanked off his jacket and put it over the vampire. Leaning down, he tried to catch the words that were being mumbled. “What was that?”

“Hurt? You…V?”

“Nah, we’re doing good.”

Rhage seemed to relax a little. “Take me home…. Please…get me home.”

“Don’t you worry about a thing. We’re gonna take care of you.”

O moved fast across the clearing, heading away from the slaughter, running low to the ground. His truck was parked down the road, about a mile away. He figured he had another three to four minutes before he got to it, and so far nothing was chasing him.

He’d taken off the instant that flash of light had ripped through the clearing, knowing damn well that nothing good came after a sparkler like that. He’d figured it was either nerve gas or the precursor to one fuck of an explosion, but then he’d heard a roar. As he’d looked over his shoulder, he’d stopped dead. Something had been doing a number on his fellow lessers, picking them off like flies.

A creature. From out of nowhere.

He hadn’t watched for long, and as he ran now, O glanced back once again to make sure he wasn’t being followed. The path behind was still clear, and up ahead he saw the truck. When he got to it, he threw himself inside, cranked the engine over, and hit the gas.

First order of business was to separate from the scene. A massacre like that was going to attract attention, either because of what it looked and sounded like while it was happening or because of what was left when it was over. Second was to reconnoiter. Mr. X was going to be split-personality pissed at this. O’s squadron of primes was gone, and the other lessers that he’d invited to watch E’s discipline were dead, too. Six slayers in little over a half hour.

And goddamn it, he didn’t know much about the monster who’d done the damage. They’d been hanging E’s body in the tree when the Escalade had pulled over to the side of the road. A blond warrior had gotten out, so big, so fast, he was obviously a member of the Brotherhood. There had been another male with him, also incredibly lethal, as well as a human, although Christ only knew what that guy had been doing with the two brothers.