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mortals—at least not pretty, little, pure ones.”
    She shook her head slightly. Why did he keep referring to her as a mortal? Was this street lingo of some sort? Lingo meaning that she was mortal, thus capable of dying?
    Before she could even think to move away from him, his hand snaked out and caught her wrist. She tugged and dug her heels into the pavement, but it was useless. He hauled her into the alley as easily as if she were held by a steel manacle.
    “Let’s go see what is wrong with Rhys,” he said, almost cheerfully.
    He dragged her up to Rhys’s prone body. Rhys’s head was still at an awkward angle, and now, Jane could see why. Thick blood glistened on his neck, and she could see his throat had literally been ripped open.
    She put her free hand up to cover her mouth. Not that her trembling fingers could suppress her scream or the bile rising up the back of her throat.
    The man, still clasping her, laughed.
    She sank to her knees, both in horror and distress, but he jerked her back up and spun her to face him. Her shoulder throbbed, but she barely registered the pain.
    “Unfortunately, now that you have seen my brother, well,” he said with a regretful tilt of his head, “I can’t let you go.”
    And just like that, the man’s features changed. At first, Jane thought the distortion had to be a trick of the dim light. Or the terrible fear wracking her body.
    Then he smiled, and she saw the light glint off his long, razor-sharp teeth. This had to be a nightmare, but she knew it was real. She didn’t know what he was, but he was real. And he really meant to kill her.
    She screamed again. And again, he laughed.
    She began yanking frantically, trying to break his unyielding hold. That was when she realized she still held the small hair spray can in her captured hand.
    As the monster’s head lowered toward her, those vicious teeth coming closer, Jane grabbed the can with her other hand and sprayed a steam of Extra Firm Hold directly in his eyes.
    He cried out, the sound eerie and keening like a wounded animal. He released her as his hands went to his face.
    Jane didn’t waste a moment. She turned and ran. But she never even made it to the street. Blackness encompassed her, and she dropped to the ground like a bug sprayed by Raid.
     
    Sebastian stood over his wounded brother. Rhys looked as though he’d been gored by a wild animal. But Sebastian could tell by the bite marks that it had been a vampire attack. He couldn’t detect the identity of the vamp, however. The vampire had used a masking hex to cover his or her tracks.
    Sebastian knelt down, holding a palm
over
Rhys’s chest. He’d already checked once, but he felt the need to check again. Just to be sure.
    He felt faint waves of energy radiating from his motionless chest. Rhys would be okay, but it was a close call.
    Sebastian wiped a hand over his face, still shaken. He’d been back at his nightclub, having a lovely dinner with a delightful mortal, who not only happened to enjoy a nice meal, but also loved being a meal as well, when he’d sensed Rhys’s pain.
    No, he hadn’t just sensed the pain. He had experienced it. He pressed a hand to his neck. The throbbing was still there, but not as intense as it had been.
    He and Rhys had always had a connection. Blood-related vampires often did—but he’d never received a contact that vivid before. And it was probably a good thing it had been that powerful. He’d sped to Rhys—and likely saved him.
    He glanced at the male mortal near Rhys. He could tell Rhys had fed off him. But the feeding was not Rhys’s usual style. He didn’t usually drain them quite so much. The man would live, but he was going to be a hurting unit for a while.
    Sebastian stood and walked over to the mortal woman lying facedown in the middle of the alley. She was unconscious and unhurt. He could sense a memory hex around her. Probably the other vampire had cleared her memory, so she wouldn’t recall what happened here