Underworld: Blood Enemy Read Online Free Page B

knives and axes among them. Lucian watched from the edge of the clearing as a hulking barbarian, his hairy frame naked from the waist up, tried to fight his way past an armor-clad Death Dealer a few feet away.
    The lycan brandished a blazing torch, snatched up from the campfire, in one hand and a rusty iron dagger in the other. Matted brown hair fell past his shoulders, and a voluminous beard obscured his features. Crazed blue eyes glowed with feral rage as he bared his fangs at the sneering vampire standing between him and freedom. “Out of my way, blood!” the savage roared.
    The Death Dealer, whom Lucian recognized as Janos, merely drew his sword from its scabbard.
    Silver gleamed in the starlight, hurting Lucians eyes. An icy smile lifted the corners of the vampires lips as his free hand tauntingly invited the lycan to advance.
    Bellowing like a rabid animal, the barbarian charged forward. His dagger was raised high above his head, and his torch produced a trail of fiery sparks as he waved the burning brand before him.
    “Burn in hell, blood!” he growled as he swung the torch at Janos, who evaded the flames with effortless grace. “Bum, damn you!”
    The silver blade flashed in the night, and the lycan’s torch went flying, as did the hand that was holding it. The dumbstruck brute froze in shock, staring aghast at the gushing stump at the end of his arm. He stabbed clumsily at Janos with his dagger, but the Death Dealer easily blocked the blow with the hilt of his sword, then rammed a spiked gauntlet into the man’s exposed belly.
    The silver spikes tore through the lycan’s guts, as Janos’s armored hand plunged elbow-deep into his enemy’s abdomen. A heartbeat later, the hand emerged again, clutching a foot-long segment of the man’s spine. Gore dripped from the dangling vertebrae, which Janos casually tossed aside. He stepped backward and watched with amusement as the lycan’s burly frame scissored in half, then toppled to the ground.
    Lucian shook his head at the uneven contest. The lycan’s attack had relied entirely on raw strength and ferocity, lacking any trace of finesse or strategy. No doubt, that was enough, even in his human form, to overcome the strongest mortal easily, but against an experienced Death Dealer, the blustering savage hadn’t had a prayer.
    If I had been in charge of this pack, Lucian reflected, I would have seen to it that the camp was better defended. There would have been guards posted throughout the night, well armed and trained in the use of their weapons. There would have been an evacuation plan in place, in anticipation of a raid such as this, and a commander who knew better than to cavort in the open on a moonless night when vampires might be abroad. Yes, there is much that I would do otherwise —
    were I ever insane enough to side with such rabble against the coven!
    His musings were interrupted by a lycan female, who came rushing toward the woods where he stood. A bawling infant was clutched to the woman’s breast, and her glowing cobalt eyes were wide with fright. The tattered remnants of a nun’s black habit barely covered her lean, sinewy form. A mass of unkempt red hair fell past her waist.
    Her headlong flight came to an abrupt halt as she spotted Lucian blocking her path. Drawing an iron knife from his belt, he displayed it before her. “Come no farther,” he warned.
    The woman’s eyes looked about anxiously, seeing only chaos and bloodshed in every direction.
    “Please!” she pleaded. Beneath the grime, desperation contorted her features. Flared nostrils sniffed the air between them. “You’re one of us, I can tell. Please, for mercy’s sake, let me go!”
    The fervency of her plea touched Lucian’s heart. “Very well,” he declared. “You shall have mercy.”
    Rotating his wrist, he turned his knife around and struck her skull with the hilt of the blade rather than the point. The woman dropped like a stone toward the ground, but Lucian managed to