Read Online Dracula's Secret by Linda Mercury - Free Book Online Page B

crouched, the muscles in its haunches bunching.
    Ready to spring on him.
    As they sized each other up, Lance realized something very important.
    He didn’t want to die.
    Lance held his left hand out, signaling the were-cat to stop.
    â€œWhat?”
    The cat sprung like a freight train, slamming him back first against the unyielding ground. Momentarily paralyzed, he saw massive jaws opening to sever his neck.
    Hail saved his life. A sudden downpour of stinging ice pellets distracted the tiger.
    Lance heaved a breath and pushed against the ground. Those evil teeth missed his throat as the tiger’s perch shifted from under him.
    Before the tiger could regain his aim, Lance thrust a finger into one golden eye. Blood and fluids splattered over his hands.
    Four-inch fangs sank into his shoulder. Sharp teeth sliced to the scapula.
    The body-searing pain just stiffened his lips and firmed his resolve to live.
    A blessed Gerber II knife fell from his sleeve into his hand. He shoved the black anodized blade into the tiger’s ear.
    Man and beast roared at each other as Lance twisted the knife and struck again. Razor-sharp claws ripped through his leather jacket as the animal jerked back from the blow.
    Blackness crept around the edges of Lance’s vision. He wasn’t going to make it.
    From above, a gold dragon flew through the gloom. As gray suede shoes crashed heel first into the tiger’s back, Lance saw his lady in black, her embroidered coat settling around the tiger. Blood fountained from Lance’s shoulder as she forced the animal to the street.
    The vampire landed with her feet firmly planted on the tiger’s body. A quick tremor, then it shifted underneath her. She fell to the pavement. An enormous bloody baby-faced blond man landed on top of her. He reached for her throat.
    A cluster of protestors, still chanting “Kill them all, kill them all,” walked past the alley. Lance, the vampire, and the were-tiger froze in their gore-drenched tableaux until the last one passed. The second they had passed, the vampire punched the tiger right in its ruined eye.
    Lance clapped his free hand to his shoulder as he squirmed for his firearm. As the tiger roared in pain, she jabbed for the were-tiger’s remaining eye.
    The shifter flinched away but kept squeezing, trying to break her neck. As she scrabbled to poke his other eye out, the click-click of Lance’s handgun broke the fight. Both of them halted in midmovement.
    â€œLet her go,” Lance ordered, his nine millimeter steady in his slick hands.
    The were-tiger raised his pawlike hands.
    â€œFace down on the ground. Put your hands on the small of your back,” he ordered.
    Slowly, the other man lowered his bulk to the street.
    â€œWhat were you doing?” Lance demanded. The shifter pressed his lips together.
    â€œHe came to kill you.” The Dark Lady raised herself to her feet. Her hair billowed in the wind and rain. Blood coated her hands and arms. Surrounded by her black aura and the black, wet night, she looked like a goddess of battle.
    Her sensual voice danced on the air and coated his skin like a bottle of truly expensive cognac. The type one avoided, even if they could afford it. Because one taste and nothing else would ever satisfy again.
    It warmed him in all the wrong places. Those wrong places thumped as she whipped off her thick leather belt. How he could feel any arousal with his blood pumping out of his shoulder, he didn’t know. Nevertheless, there it was. A minor miracle, no doubt.
    She knelt down. A few swift moves and she’d bound the attacker’s hands behind his back. Knee planted in his kidney, she finally looked Lance over. Her eyes narrowed as she took in his damage.
    â€œYou need stitches.” A quick reach into her pocket and she tossed a perfectly starched white handkerchief toward him. He shook his head and stepped back, keeping his weapon clear. Like a dove, the cloth fluttered to