He reached for me. Jerking into motion, I stiff-armed him, feeling my fist pop into his open palm. I twisted my wrist, grabbing his. I yanked him forward into my upraised foot. His breath whooshed out as it hit his stomach, knocking him backward. I followed him down, giving him a jab at his crotch before I got to my feet. “And I thought you’d be smarter,” I said, backing away as he writhed on the floor, gasping.

It probably hadn’t been the smartest thing to do.

Dropping their rags and broom, the wait staff converged on me with an unnerving, unhurried pace. My breath came fast, and I shimmied out of my coat, shoving one of the tables away with my foot to make room to move. Seven spells in my gun. Nine vamps. I’d never get them all. My face went cold and I shivered in the draft on my bare shoulders.

“No,” Kist said from his corner, and they hesitated. “I said no!” he shouted as he got to his feet and started over, his fast pace jerking into a slower one to hide a new limp.

Their faces twisting to an ugly promise, they stopped, making a ring about me a good eight feet back. Eight feet, I thought, feeling ill as I remembered my and Ivy’s workouts. That was a living vamp’s reach.

Crotch-boy got to his feet, his shoulders hunched and his face pained. Kist pushed through the circle to stand opposite him, hands on his hips and feet spread wide. His dark silk shirt and dress pants gave him more sophistication than his usual leather. A bruise spread upward across his lightly stubbled cheek to just miss his eye. By the way he held himself, I guessed his ribs were hurting, but I thought the real damage was to his pride. He had lost his scion status to Ivy.

“He said bring her down, not rough her up,” Kist said, his lips going bloodless as my gaze lingered on the fingernail gouge behind his bangs.

Though Samuel was bigger, Kist’s demand for obedience was unmistakable. A hard, bad temper had replaced his usual mien of casual flirtation, giving him a rough edge that I’d always found attractive in men. Like every manager, Kist had problems with his employees, and somehow the fact that he had to deal with crap just like everyone else made him more appealing. My gaze roved over him, my thoughts following my eyes. Damn vamp pheromones.

Still panting, the larger vamp darted his eyes to me and back to Kist. “She needs to be searched.” He licked his lips, looking at me to make my pulse race. “I’ll do it.”

I stiffened, my thoughts going to my splat gun. There were too many of them.

“I’m doing it,” Kist said, his blue eyes starting to vanish behind a swelling circle of black.

Swell.