No, if this was Lilinor, she’d need her flamethrower, the one remaining hawthorn stake, and maybe the iron dust. That alone could cause intense pain to any magical creature.

She just needed to stop the damn shaking in her hands if she wanted to use a weapon.

She tiptoed over the old cobblestones. As she followed the narrow alley into a town square, she suppressed the urge to scream for Caine at the top of her lungs. He was her best chance at survival, but she couldn’t draw attention.

She sniffed the air. Her ears pricked as something rustled nearby, and she pulled the stake from her belt, followed by the flamethrower.

Thud.

She spun, just as two pale vamps leapt to the street. A giant, ginger-haired man stood next to a raven-haired woman.

No hesitating this time, Rosalind.

“Well, look here,” the man said. “A human, offering herself up to us.”

“I can see her veins through that shirt, pumping blood,” the woman said.

Rosalind pressed the button, unleashing the flames, and the vampires scuttled back, clothes blazing.

Someone grabbed her hair from behind, and Rosalind slammed her elbow into the monster’s ribs before reaching for the stake. She spun, ramming the wood into another female vamp’s heart. As the creature turned to ash, Rosalind snatched her stake from the dust heap.

“She murdered Domenica!” someone shrieked.

Rosalind whirled at the sound of footfalls, and jammed the wood into another vamp’s chest.

They were on her like a plague of locusts, and before she could even get to her feet again, one of them grabbed her from behind, pinning her arms in a vice-like grip. He ripped the stake from her hands, then spun her around and slammed her up against the wall. Her back cracked against the stone. As he pinned her arms above her head, the vamp’s sharp nails pierced her wrists. Revulsion spread through her. This is how Mom and Dad died.

The vamp’s hair was long and black, flowing over his shoulders, and his eyes blazed blood red. “She’s looking for someone strong. She wants me to keep her as my pet. She came here because she wanted it.”

Rosalind burned with anger. The vamp’s vise-like grip dug into her arms, and he pressed his body against hers. Vampires were lusty creatures, but the look in this one’s eye screamed something more like “sex offender.”

As he sniffed her neck, her legs flailed. Her kicks to his shins did nothing. His cold tongue shot out of his mouth, and he licked her neck, moaning.

Freaking vile. Rage exploded in her mind and she rammed her knee right up into his groin. She heard a pained grunt, and his hands loosened just long enough for her to free herself. She whipped the iron dust from her belt, spraying it on the small crowd of vampires.

Their screams pierced the quiet, and her stomach turned as the scent of burning flesh filled the air. Four vamps, blazing like torches—all except the raven-haired vamp, who turned on her again as his buddies turned to ash.