Chapter Twenty-Four
ISAAC
“A shapeshifter’s metabolism,” he said, wheezing the words. “Is too fast for a vampire.”
Isaac hummed, understanding. He was burning through his blood too quickly. No wonder he had been so weak and easy to beat.
Both lucky, and unforeseen.
“Let him go.”
The words rumbled through the air from behind, and echoed in Isaac’s bones. He didn’t move, but continued to stand above the child-feeder, his back facing the speaker.
The voice was familiar. Deep and gravely, as though he’d been a fifty-a-day smoker for two centuries. The inflexion was tinged with an Italian accent not quite lost.
“Viktor,” he said, pushing on the child-feeder’s shoulders when he tried to stand. “Uh, uh,” Isaac said to him. “You stay put.”
“It is me, yes,” came back the gravely reply.
Is
