As She Fades

"You are the darkness, and I am the light.
You are the fallen, and Heaven don't lie.
So, so, so step back; you're crossing the line.
If I told once, I've told you one thousand times.
No, no, you don't.

You think I'm going to back down?
You better think again.
I've always said,
The bigger they are, the harder they fall.
You're gonna suffer.
Hit me, I'll hit back harder.
The bigger you are, the harder you fall.
It's your darkest hour.
Hit me, I hit you harder.
When my back's against the wall,
I strike back, I strike back, I strike back.
When my back's against the wall,
I strike back, I strike back, I strike back."
- We As Human

The scents of grass and dirt hit Torryn hard as she crawled through the broken window and into the mess of growth that covered the bottomless pit of a ditch they'd landed in. Jagged gravel and the dull edges of tempered-glass shards stung her palms; tall, stiff grass cut at her face; her own panted breaths were harsh on her dry, parted lips; but none of the sensations were enough to distract her from the throbbing pain in her elbow, the result of her panicked attempts at busting out the window with her legs wedged beneath the passenger's seat and the weight of the man in it.

She crawled through the brush, breaking free of the tightly packed grass a moment later, and she took in a slow breath, savoring the clean taste of cool night air on her tongue. For a long moment, she listened for any sounds of pursuit — the shattering of another window, the low murmur of voices, the rustling of undergrowth, anything — but when only the sound of a steady breeze twirling its frigid fingers through the surrounding trees reached her ears, she exhaled in a relieved rush and began to push herself up from where she sat on her hands and knees. Before she could rise, however, the lukewarm breath of woman's laugh cut through the chill that had settled into her cheek, and she tensed.

"Let the torture begin, then," Emmeline murmured pleasantly, and the icy fingers of the night air clawed and grabbed at Torryn as she was suddenly sent sailing through it, only a sharp ache in the center of her stomach to tell her what had launched her into flight.

Her body flipped and twirled in the air, the cold wind raking its sharp nails over her cheeks and through her hair, stinging at her eyes, pulling her lips taut, as she flew helplessly over the ditch. The breath she'd only just managed to regain was forced from her lungs as her back slammed into the curved wall of the ditch, and the tall grass did nothing to cushion her landing, only serving to make matters worse as a thick cloud of dust filled the air around her. She coughed when it sneaked into her mouth to tickle at the back of her throat, simultaneously gasping for breath and completely counteracting her efforts. Her eyes watered, and for the moment, her only concern was taking in a clean mouthful of air.

She lurched to her feet to stand above the dusty cloud, angled on the side of the ditch, managing to take in a quick gulp of air before Emmeline knocked it from her again, the sharp sting of the vampire's pointy knuckles jabbing into her stomach. She cried out as her back met the ground beyond the ditch and a sharp something pierced her flesh, just to the side of her spine.

Glaring at Emmeline, her teeth gritted in pain, Torryn quickly sat up and reached back to wrap her fingers around the…smooth bark of a broken branch? With a hard tug and only a small surge of pain, she pulled the stick free of her flesh, tossing it aside without paying it so much as a glance.

Not even a minute into the fight, and her biggest injury had come from a tree's sad leftovers.

Well, didn't this look promising?

She lurched to her feet the instant she saw Emmeline beginning to move, and, tapping into every ounce of Progeny blood she had in her, she was able to block another attempted punch from the vampire even as she blurred with vampiric speed. Torryn managed to move her a foot back with a hard shove, but the woman was right back in front of her in the blink of an eye. Instinct guided Torryn as she blocked and dodged a volley of frighteningly rapid blows, the woman's raw power leaving her arms aching after every blocked hit, and she searched desperately for an opening. But still, the vampire moved, lashing out with feet and hands, knees and elbows, endlessly, ceaselessly, and instead of slowing down with fatigue, she only grew faster and faster, stronger and stronger, better and better.

Torryn risked a glance at the vampire's face, but just as she caught sight of the hard set of her jaw, the grimace that parted her deeply colored lips to bare her fangs, the angle of her eyebrows that wrinkled her flawless forehead and narrowed her vivid green eyes, a blow made it through Torryn's defenses, a fist to the chest that knocked the breath from her lungs all over again and forced a spray of blood from her mouth that spattered the woman's rich complexion. A grunt left her as her back hit the ground, and though she longed to pause to catch her breath, instinct ordered her to roll to the side, and she obeyed. Black suede slammed into the grass where her chest had just been, kicking up a fresh cloud of dust, and a stiletto heel pierced the earth.

Emmeline jerked her heel free and lifted her foot again in preparation for another blow, but Torryn was already on her feet, gasping for breath even as she rammed her knee into the vampire's stomach. She staggered back, her eyes wide in surprise, but Torryn didn't give her the chance to process the moment. It was Emmeline's turn to desperately bob between attacks, her jaw still set and her brow still angrily furrowed, as Torryn mimicked her motions from before. If she could just keep up this pace, keep up this power, keep up this onslaught…

But suddenly, the strength was sapped from her limbs, and she had no choice except to let her arms drop to her sides as a fog, both painfully familiar and frighteningly new, settled over the vast field of her mind. She relaxed her stance at the insistence of the haze in her mind, her body sagging, and she watched numbly as Emmeline took one slow step back, then another. The vampire woman was all that she could see now. She was blind to everything but those soft lips quirked in a smirk, those green eyes filled with confidence, the way her short dress flared in the cold breeze to give a teasing peek of upper thigh…

At the crook of a swarthy finger, Torryn obediently made her way across the grass, falling into the woman's arms just as the miasma in her head besought. Emmeline's embrace was much warmer than her skin, much sweeter than her smile, and she gently lowered herself and Torryn to the ground. She knelt on the grass, another gust of chilly wind rising to surround the two of them, and as Torryn settled in beside her, on her knees and leaning against Emmeline's chest, just as she would with a lover or a mother, she couldn't tear her eyes from a strand of dark hair that had escaped from the woman's neat coiffure to flutter on the breeze.

"It feels nice, doesn't it?" she murmured, and the woman's voice was loud in Torryn's mind. Her eyes darted to those purple-colored lips as they moved, utterly transfixed. "Like the warm embrace of a lover?" It did feel nice, Torryn agreed mentally, though she couldn't form the words properly. She was letting herself tumble deeper and deeper into the woman's thrall, into a land that was safe and warm, so much safer and warmer than the one she'd been stuck in for so long…

"We could be lovers, you know," Emmeline went on, and Torryn raised her gaze to meet the vampire's half-lidded eyes. She looked nearly as content as Torryn felt, and a trill of pride danced through her. All she'd ever wanted was to make Emmeline happy. She deserved to be happy. "You're quite a lovely little girl," she went on, her cool skin brushing Torryn's cheek as she tucked a strand of hair behind the girl's ear. "Inexperienced and a little bit foolish, but most certainly worth a try."

Torryn felt her cheeks flush, the raw heat contrasting with the chill of the vampire's skin as she trailed her fingertips gently over her cheek and along her jaw. She'd never been with a woman before. She never thought she wanted to be. But Emmeline…

"Speak," she murmured, guiding her fingers down the side of Torryn's throat now. At that single word, a fraction of the haze lifted from her mind, just enough that she could form the words she needed.

"You're strong." Her brow furrowed in confusion when she realized what she'd said. She'd wanted to tell the vampire that she would do anything for her, that she loved her, that she was hers to do with as she pleased, but… "Why are you so strong?" No, no. That wasn't what she wanted. She grew flustered, frustrated, and she opened her mouth to speak again, to correct herself, to apologize, but with a low, amused chuckle, Emmeline put a cool finger to the girl's lips, and Torryn fell obediently silent.

"My thrall, you mean?" she said, laughter adding a melodic lilt to her tone, and Torryn fell harder into the sea of pheromones. "Ah, yes. I've received many a compliment on my ability to wholly overcome my prey — and my little loves, my little sweethearts, just like you. My only answer as to why I'm so powerful in that regard is that I'm a woman." She trailed the tips of her perfectly manicured nails up and down the ridge at the front of Torryn's throat as she spoke, and Torryn tilted her head back to bare everything she had to the woman, should she decide to take it, though she refused to tear her eyes from the woman's own olive-green depths. "For what does a woman have in this patriarchal society but her sex appeal?"

"Other than that," Torryn whispered, just barely able to speak, and she was once again confused by her own words. She wasn't the one thinking these things…was she? She would never question Emmeline in such a way. Never. "You're very strong."

"I can understand your surprise. You've never dealt with a true master before," the woman said with an amused smile, her fingers never ceasing in their rhythmic journey along Torryn's throat. "Even with all of his powers, the Lord was weak, a human turned by a foolish vampire decades ago. As I understand it, you were able to overcome him…Not so with me, my dear." Her voice transformed into a purr as she went on, and she ran her fingers gently through Torryn's hair. For a split second, Torryn let her eyes drift shut, savoring the sensation, the attention of such a beautiful creature, but her eyes snapped back open the instant Emmeline began to speak again. "I inherited my power, just as Antony did, but I'd been building up the strength and skill to deserve it long before my mother was murdered and it became rightfully mine. He's been playing, trying hard to live, grasping only half of what it is to be a vampire. You see, while the pleasure is certainly important, there's much more to it than that. You must deserve it first. You must fight for your place."

The will to fight rose alongside Torryn's indignation at the woman's judgment of Antony, the sharp claws of a jungle cat tearing at everything within reach to break free — but there was only fog to fight, a haze, incorporeal and unbeatable. She finally registered that she was caught in the tendrils of vampiric pheromones, but she couldn't convince herself that she needed to be freed. This was Emmeline, after all. Beautiful, eloquent, powerful — a queen. A queen to be obeyed.

"And I want nothing more than to help Antony win that fight," the queen continued, her hand leaving Torryn's hair as she wrapped both of her arms tightly around the girl, pulling her body closer. It was safe here…but for that flash of ivory fang that Torryn could see between those lips that she was so enraptured by with each passing word. Each threatening, soothing word… "He has the potential to be so much more than Caesar — that incorrigible fool, may he rest in pieces." An edge entered her smooth voice, jerking Torryn from her lull for the barest of moments. She felt her heart rate increase dramatically from the nearly stopped state it had been caught in since the woman had begun her speech, but when Emmeline's mollifying tone settled back into place to hide her true emotions, Torryn felt herself sinking back into the sea of bliss, her heartbeat slowing down bit by bit. "But I can't help Antony along on this path out of the goodness of my heart. I'll need payment, something to make it worth my while to raise up my own rival — and that, my precious little lily, is yourself and your fellow Progeny. I'm sure you understand the need for such a sacrifice."

Torryn swallowed hard and managed to speak without Emmeline's blessing, though her voice warbled beneath the woman's disapproval. "You can have me, but I won't let you have the others. I won't sacrifice anyone else to you."

"Ah, yes. You fought to save them, I know," Emmeline said, beginning to stroke Torryn's hair again in what the girl perceived to be a desperate attempt to soothe her back into obliviousness. "You should be glad to go with them. You'll be a great source of comfort to them when they return to captivity alongside you."

The vampire's flippancy kicked Torryn's heart rate up a notch, fueled by a surge of anger, and she said without so much as a tremble to her voice, "Why do you have to do this?" She lifted her hand from where it lay resting on the grass beside her thigh, her mind still hazy but her muscles eager to spring to life, and she slowly slid her fingers into the back pocket of her jeans, hooking her index finger into a loop of her brass knuckles and beginning to pull.

Emmeline laughed lightly, turning to stare dreamily up at the moon, her expression reminiscent of the one Torryn remembered Antony's mother always wearing — bliss bordering on insanity. Torryn slipped the knuckles over her fingers and tightly clenched her fist. "Because I want it, my dear," came the vampire's simple explanation, "and vampires must always get what they want."

The period to her sentence came in the form of a punch, as hard as Torryn could hit her from this angle, and the woman let out a startled cry as her arms were torn from around Torryn and she was knocked back to the grassy ground. Torryn leaped to her feet, a fog still confusing her senses, but her body knew what she needed to do: fight. She had to fight.

"My, my. You're even more impressive than I thought," Emmeline said with a pleasant laugh as she got to her feet. Blood rolled down her cheek in thick droplets from where Torryn's brass knuckles had split her skin open, even more red spurting freely to stain the grass at her feet, but Torryn could see that the wound was already beginning to close right before her eyes.

Even her healing operated with vampiric speed.

She'd have to work fast.

-?-

Skylar's eyes had just fluttered open when Becca swept past the open door on her way down the hall. Confusion wrinkled his brow — not unusual, considering the fact that he'd only just risen from the depths of unconsciousness, but the feeling lingered even after the haze had left.

Becca? Why was Becca here? And where was Torryn?

"Hey there. How's he doing?" he heard her ask, undoubtedly speaking to Raphael, and he listened intently as the conversation went on. A small tremble of uncertainty lurked beneath her words, and he had a bad feeling.

"He'll be perfectly fine," Raphael answered simply, and Skylar almost suspected that the healer had been listening in on his thoughts when he suddenly asked, "Have you seen Torryn, by the way?"

"Yeah," Becca said casually, making an effort to sound lighthearted, though Skylar swore he could hear the doubt that shook her voice kick up another notch. "I passed the little chickadee on my way in. She's outside getting some air, I think."

"All right. As long as she's okay." A bed creaked, and soft footsteps started across the floor as Raphael added, "If you'll excuse me, I need to go finish healing Skylar." The healer entered the room a few quiet footfalls later, and already, he looked grim, a mixture of worry and skepticism knitting his brow and darkening his already intimidating features.

"Antony?" Becca said softly in the guest room next door. The vampire in question answered with a groan.

Skylar listened as the two bloodsuckers began to talk, their voices too low now to make out the words, but Raphael soon sat down on the edge of Skylar's bed and leaned close to him to say lowly, "She did something." He rested a massive hand on Skylar's arm, and the boy enjoyed the tingling of warmth and the light golden glow that accompanied the final stages of healing. He had only a few bruises left and a bit of weakness in his tired limbs, but Raphael had always been thorough. "I promise you that Torryn's not outside, and I promise you that I've been doing this for too long not to know when someone's feeling guilty as fuck."

"Then why aren't you doing anything?" Skylar asked in a low voice to match the healer's, doing his best not to panic. After all, what could Becca possibly do to Torryn? Whatever it was, it couldn't have been that bad…right?

Raphael shrugged and lifted his hand, and the soothing warmth left Skylar's tired body. "Because she's going to tell on herself in a minute, and I won't know what she's done or where to go to fix it until then."

As if on cue, Antony's voice rose in a roar to smash the peacefulness of the house to bits. "How could you do that to her, you selfish whore? How could you do that to me?!"

"She'll just fight you off if you go after her!" Becca cried as Antony's heavy footsteps thundered down the hall. "It's better this way!"

Antony burst into the room, his fangs fully extended and his eyes narrowed in a fierce glare that gave even Skylar pause, and said, "Emmeline has Torryn." The worry was obvious beneath the growl of anger that had taken over his voice, and Skylar felt his heart stop. Torryn had tangled with Emmeline before. He was still haunted by the sight of her naked and battered body, standing in the doorway, a smug vampire standing over her shoulder…

"Fuck," Raphael swore lowly. "You've got to be kidding me."

"There's no use in going after them, either," Becca said, aggravated, as she let her glare flick from Antony to the other two men. "You should all just let it go. Move on. It'll be better this way."

"For who?!" Antony snapped, whirling in the doorway to bare his fangs at her, and she didn't step back, though she stood only inches away. "Just who the hell does this benefit? Because it's definitely not me, and it's definitely not Torryn!"

"What do we do?" Skylar asked softly, frowning at Raphael's tense features.

"We go after her, of course…if you're up for it," the healer answered, getting to his feet and starting toward the door without waiting for a response.

Skylar didn't hesitate to hop out of bed and follow him, preparing to head out as if he weren't clad in the torn clothes and dried blood of a battle that hadn't taken place even hours ago. "Of course I'm up for it," he said eagerly. "You'd be better off asking yourself if you're in any shape for it, old man."

Antony abruptly turned and led the way down the stairs, Raphael and Skylar at his back with Becca bringing up the rear and ranting all the while. "You can't do this! Emmeline will eat you all alive! Why can't you just let her go? Everything will be so much easier if you just let Torryn go."

None of the men acknowledged her, and as they stepped into the night, a night cold enough that the living among them could see their warm breath in foggy puffs upon the air, Raphael started toward his own car, though Antony promptly stopped him. "We should take Torryn's," he said, gesturing to the little Sunfire that still sat in the driveway. "I've personally seen the full armory that she keeps in the trunk, and I have a feeling it'll come in handy with what we're about to face."

Raphael laughed heartily, altering his course without pause and making his way toward the driver's side door of Torryn's car. "I like the way you think, bloodsucker."

"Glad to hear it, mutt," Antony countered with a lighthearted grin, and Skylar marveled at the ease with which the pair pretended their shoulders weren't tight with worry, their minds weren't racing with panic, their hearts weren't aching for her. He couldn't shake his frown, sliding into the backseat of the car as Raphael slipped in behind the wheel and Antony settled into the passenger's seat.

"Antony, come on," Becca pleaded, following him to the car. "Just think about what you're about to do for a second." But without a word to her, Antony jerked the door shut in her face, and he didn't even bother to spare a glare for her as Raphael turned the key — which Torryn had left in the ignition again — to set the engine whining to life and backed out of the driveway quick enough to nearly nick Becca with the side-view mirror.

Skylar, though, could spare a glare, and he did, never tearing his narrowed eyes from the woman's desolate form as the car headed off down the street. She faded off into the distance, but that did nothing to ease Skylar's anger.

How could she have done that to Torryn?

No, even more importantly: how could she have felt no remorse over what she'd done?

Torryn deserved better than to be fed to a master vampire. Didn't Becca see that?

Hadn't Becca used to believe that?

-?-

Torryn could feel her Progeny instincts kicking into overdrive, adrenaline pulsing through her faster and faster with each throb of her racing heart, but as she gained the strength and the speed to hold her own against the ancient master vampire before her, so did Emmeline gain the power to counter each and every blow — and then some.

Torryn's breath left her in a rush when Emmeline's dainty fist slammed into her stomach with devastating strength, and she swore she heard a rib crack in the brief moment before she sailed through the tall grass and crashed into the side of the wrecked car that still sat smoking against the thick trunk of the oak tree. Instinct drove her into a sudden crouch, and her tangled hair whipped wildly around her face as the gust of wind from the vampire's punch washed over her. An instant later, she rolled out of the way of Emmeline's sharply heeled shoe as her foot hurtled toward her and dived back into the sea of towering grass that lined the ditch.

Tapping into her unnatural speed, Torryn darted behind the vampire, the sharp tips of the rapidly grown vegetation cutting through her bare arms and hands as she swept through the grass, and she tangled her fingers in the woman's frayed, loosening bun to ram her face-first into the thick metal of the underside of the car. Emmeline let out a pained gasp but refused to cry out even as her nasal bone cracked, a torrent of blood gushing free to stain the steel beneath her.

Torryn drew her roughly back to do it again, fully intending to bash her face bloody on the useless car, but Emmeline needed only a second to slip out of the Progeny's grip, moving so quickly that Torryn had only just realized that her prey had escaped when a slender arm snaked around her middle and a pair of fangs stabbed into the side of her neck. She cried out, more surprised than pained, and in spite of the pleasure that flooded her alongside the vampire's saliva, she struggled against the woman's tight hold, ramming an elbow back into her stomach hard. When Emmeline didn't relent, she reached back to take hold of the vampire's coiffure again, and with a hard tug, she managed to jerk the fangs from her neck with only a little bit of rending flesh.

Holding Emmeline by her hair, she threw her elbow back again, catching her in the jaw with enough strength to send the sound of fracturing bone echoing through the quiet night. Again, the vampire only gasped her pain, refusing to give Torryn the scream she so desired, and Torryn spun on her heel, clenched fist raised, blood glinting on the sharp edges of her brass knuckles as the moonlight flashed over them. Emmeline tried to draw back, but even with her vampiric reflexes, she managed only to free what remained of her elegant hairdo from its bindings before Torryn's knuckles connected with her face. Finally, a cry left her painted lips, even more satisfying to Torryn than the feeling of bone giving way beneath her brass knuckles and the sight of red, red blood oozing from the tears through the woman's cheek.

Rage replaced the shock and agony dancing in Emmeline's green eyes, and she finally jerked free of Torryn's grip, twirling away from her only to dash right back in, her heel colliding with Torryn's stomach before the girl could even raise her arm to block. She staggered back, her bloody teeth bared in a pained snarl, and a glint of steel caught her eye as Emmeline tugged her skirt higher on her thigh. She drew a dagger from its holster, and with that, the real fight began.

The dagger sliced through the air with a whoosh of sound, and sparks danced through the darkness as the blade glanced off of Torryn's brass knuckles, her arm raised to protect her throat. Quickly, Torryn reached for the hand that held the weapon, but Emmeline ducked away from her grasping hand and swung the knife far from the Progeny's blocking arms.

A surge of sharp heat pealed through her stomach as the blade cut through the cloth of her shirt deep into the skin beneath, and thankfully, instinct drove her back a hop before the sharp edge could find muscle and bone. The scent of blood flooded the air, poignant and cloying, and though Emmeline's nostrils flared, Torryn ignored the sharp scent and kept her eyes on the vampire.

She dodged another blur-quick swing of the knife, then another, and she dared to lash out with a brass-knuckled fist when Emmeline tipped off balance in the midst of another attempted blow. She dodged, too quick, and the pungent aroma of blood pressed harder around Torryn as another sudden sting along her stomach brought crimson red to the surface. Letting out a growl, she reached for the knife again, desperately, but Emmeline danced away with a delighted giggle. Next thing Torryn knew, the woman was behind her, and before she could even think to block, pain exploded across her back.

She staggered forward with a cry that she hated, quickly gritting her teeth against the sound as Emmeline's laughter rose high on the air once more. Torryn spun to face her, letting instinct guide her in ducking and weaving beneath the vampire's eager, joyful swings and thrusts as her vision clouded over with pain. That time, the knife had cut too close. That time, Emmeline might have done some real damage.

The overwhelming smell of blood made her queasy, but her body knew just what to do even if she didn't, all of the right muscles contracting at all of the right times as she continued her frantic dodging of the vampire's frantic attacks. Even through the haze, Torryn noticed that Emmeline had begun to rely entirely on the dagger clenched in her dainty fingers, completely forgetting about her fists and feet and fangs. She was thankful for it even as she resented it. Did Emmeline really think so little of her? Did the vampire really think she had to put in so little effort to defeat her?

Of course, considering Torryn was barely able to focus, barely able to keep moving as instinct bade her to, the vampire was probably more right than she cared to admit…

The knife finally caught her though the pain barely registered, a dull ache beginning along the very top of her chest, too close to her throat for comfort. She staggered back clumsily to avoid another swing, this one aimed at her neck, and by some miracle, her arm darted out and snagged the vampire's slender wrist just as she began to draw it back in preparation for another attack. Torryn lashed out with a clenched fist swiftly, unwilling to miss her window, and though she landed a punch to the woman's stomach that jolted her, jerking her feet from the grassy floor of the ditch's edge, she couldn't manage to stall her for more than a moment. The vampire's wrist left her grip. Her beatific face vanished from view. Her sweet perfume wafted over her on the breeze. Pain exploded through Torryn's back as fingers pressed into the gaping wound that cut across her spine, and when she tried to pull free, desperately scrambling away from the unceasing agony, a small hand closed over her shoulder to hold her in place with a surprisingly strong grip. Emmeline drove her fingers in deeper, digging her nails into the squishy bits of Torryn that lay in the depths of the open wound, and with a wordless scream, Torryn dropped to her knees.

She flailed, reaching back and grabbing for the hand that hurt her so, but she couldn't get a hold of her. No matter how hard she struggled, the woman would not relent. She could see nothing, hear nothing, feel nothing beyond the raw pain that tore through her, pulsing through the entirety of her being over and over again.

But suddenly, the fingers left her, something drawing the vampire's attention away for just the barest of moments, and before she could resume her torture and her maniacal giggling, Torryn lurched to her feet and threw back an elbow simultaneously. A surprised cry left the vampire's painted lips, and Torryn breathed deep of the scent of blood that finally wasn't her own as she spun to slam her foot into Emmeline's knee, a crack bursting from her leg as a bone gave way beneath the kick. Finally, the vampire let loose a shriek filled solely with pain, and Torryn smiled a cruel, bitter smile.

Progress.

The glint of a car's shiny coat in the light of the streetlamp overhead caught her attention for only a moment before she sensed movement at her back, and she spun just in time to block an incoming flash of metal, knocking Emmeline's knife aside. The woman followed up with a quick shove, however, tightly gripping Torryn's shoulders and ramming her back into the car she'd only vaguely noticed. Instinct drove her to duck beneath a sudden punch, and Emmeline thrust her fist right through a window. Torryn took only a moment to marvel at the woman's strength as tempered glass rained down upon her, then she lurched to her feet and caught Emmeline's wrist before she could withdraw. With a surprising amount of strength, she heaved the woman up and over, slamming her thin body into the hood of the car hard enough to set the whole vehicle rocking.

Dismay lanced through her. Damn it. This was her car! She'd just dented the hood of her own car!

Wait, wait. This was her car, she realized with a surge of hope. Her car! The one with the miniature armory in the trunk!

She barely noticed Antony, Skylar, and Raphael rushing out of the vehicle as she hurried around to the back, pleased to find the trunk already popped. She threw it open and snatched the first weapon that caught her eye: the machete she'd tried to use the first time she'd run headlong into Emmeline's territory. This time, she didn't think twice about her choice, didn't spare the precious seconds it would've taken to doubt herself.

Baring her bloody teeth, she lunged back into battle — with Emmeline centered right in her cross hairs.