Munro (Immortals After Dark #18) by Kresley Cole

            Ren readied her blade as Munro backed her away.

            “Stay behind me.”

            The swordsmen parried against contagious fangs and claws in a blindingly fast skirmish. Lothaire was the first to behead a creature. Its corpse plummeted to the floor, oozing brown blood, which was contagious in itself.

            “This will be over soon.” The words had just left Munro’s lips when more Wendigos flooded into the villa.

            Five more. Ten. They crawled along the ceiling and scaled the walls to attack the vampires. As the swordsmen launched a defense, they debated something in Russian. Maybe if one should trace for backup? But that would leave the others in jeopardy.

            Us in jeopardy.

            When a number of Wendigos pivoted toward Ren and Munro, he gave a roar and struck out with his own lethal claws.

            Across the room, behind the protection of her creatures, Dorada watched the fray with excited eyes.

            Munro and the vampires couldn’t fight this many. Blade in hand, Ren scanned for a target in the low light, but the immortal melee moved too quickly. If she hit Munro, it’d be over.

            Her heart felt like it would explode with dread. Was this what he felt for her every second of the day? I need to be able to protect him! I want strength like his; I want those gifts!

            Dorada waved her hand again and said, “Turn on them, Enemy of Old.”

            The vampire muttered, “Fuck.” He froze in place.

            Between strikes, Munro snapped, “What the hell is wrong with you, leech?”

            Lothaire gritted his fangs. “She can control me, because . . . evil. And I’m rather good at fighting. Can’t resist much . . . longer—” Lothaire’s sword flashed out at Stelian, Kristoff, and Munro.

            The two vampires traced out of the way, but Munro had to leap back—directly into a cluster of Wendigos.

            “Munro!”

            With a roar, he slashed his way through them.

            Ren whirled around toward Dorada as an idea hit. Every immortal strength had a corresponding weakness. If one employed Wendigo henchmen, then one had better fear their contagion.

            Ren swooped down to a felled corpse, coating her blade in brown blood. Then she took aim. Her tunnel of focus muted everything beyond her target: Dorada’s beating heart.

            She threw. End over end. Blade flying . . .

            The dagger sank into the sorceress’s chest. Bull’s-eye.

            With a yell of fury, Dorada trained her vicious gaze on Ren. She plucked the blade free and tossed it aside with irritation. “A knife? Really?” Yet then she frowned down at the wound, at the brown mixed with crimson. She raised her glowing hand, but her magic sputtered. A look of disbelief crossed her face. “What have you wrought, mortal?”

            “You’ve got seconds of consciousness left before my blade’s spell hits you, and I suspect you’ll become a Wendigo in less than three days.”

            Dorada gasped, then disappeared in a fall of gold dust. Without the sorceress to direct them, the remaining Wendigos howled and snapped at each other.

            Freed from Dorada’s hold, Lothaire sliced through the baffled creatures, alongside Munro and the two vampires. Decapitated bodies writhed on the floor as the last one fell.

            Then . . . quiet.

            Ren hurried to retrieve her weapon. She carefully wiped the blade off on a curtain—apologies, Dacian villa—then holstered it. “Munro?”

            Halfway across the room, he stood with his back to her, his shoulders rising and falling with his heaving breaths. He finally turned, revealing a slash across the arm of his jacket. Blood welled beneath the fabric.

            Her heart stuttered. “No, no, no!”

            His brows drew together, as if with contrition. “I never expected to abandon you here in this time. But the vampires will have to put me down. They’ll take you to Glenrial. My brother and Chloe will help you.” Munro stumbled toward her, only to collapse to his knees.