Matthew parted his lips, his voice already bubbling on the scream building in his throat as Gavin’s body landed, but the sound never got a chance to escape him. Arius caught him, clasped his mouth and nose in a grip so tight that Matthew’s bottom lip split against his teeth.
“Shh, now,” Arius whispered sharply into his ear. “We don’t want to wake the neighbors.”
The other vampires were nothing more than a blur from one place to the next. One second they stood watching Gavin fall, the next they were on top of him—ripping, tearing, spraying ruptures of black blood that slashed over the walls like some kind of bad attempt at modern art. Gavin might have been able to fend off a single attacker; three were insurmountable. For every punch Gavin landed, he took two more. For every gasp of pain or anger that he was awarded, three more were demanded from him.