Whiteout (Aurora Sky by Nikki Jefford Page B

hadn’t come close enough yet to see Arlo on the floor.
    Dante smirked. “Name’s Peter.”
    Pierce stopped so abru ptly it looked as though his body had hit an invisible wall. Recognition registered over his face upon hearing the name.
    Dante really needed to come up with a new alias. Ryker, Nikolas, Eli, Clay, or Torin would do the trick—all literary heartthrobs I woul dn’t mind sucking blood from. Then again, it wouldn’t surprise me if he liked having a reputation among the undesirables.
    Pierce kept his eyes on Dante and Dante’s were on him. It reminded me of the hand - slapping game my friends and I used to play in elementary school—how we used to wait and see who would make a move first.
    In this case, it was Pierce. He spun around and sprinted for the door. Dante barreled after him. He seemed to move at lightning speed , unlike Pierce , whose body moved in slow motion .
    Dante caught Pierce by the hem of his shirt and yanked him back. It made a ripping sound but held firm. Dante had him in a headlock before Pierce knew what had hit him.
    Butterflies swarmed in my stomach and a thrilling sensation rushed through my body.
    Why now? Why the sudden turn - on?
    Maybe Dante was right to tell me to lay off the blood.
    Pierce crouched, freeing himself of Dante’s headlock in the process. He jumped back up, swung around, and punched Dante in the face.
    Dante took a step back, narrowly missing an uppercut to the chest. His nostrils flared.
    Pierce stood with his shoulders hunched, arms and fists raised. Ready. Apparently, he’d opted to fight rather than flee.
    Unlike Pierce’s tense stance, Dante could have been waiting in line for his chan ce at throwing rings around bottles at the state fair. His expression made him appear annoyed yet eager to wrap his hands around his prize.
    My body shud dered involuntarily. Arctic air from the open door drifted down the hallway and washed over my front whi le heat from the wood stove tingled my back.
    Dante made no move toward Pierce. He watched and waited. Pierce’s body quivered ever so slightly. Holding his fists up had to be tiring.
    Dante stomped one foot forward.
    Pierce jumped in place and let a fist fly , but Dante held his ground.
    Pierce jabbed the air. As his arm flew forward, Dante slid around and punched Pierce sideways in the jaw. His hands flew to his face and Dante followed up with a knee to the groin. He grabbed Pierce by the back of the head and pulled him into the assault.
    â€œOw!” Pierce yelped.
    He doubled over, unable to block the barrage of punches and jabs. Dante pounded him in the face and ribs over and over until Pierce collapsed onto the floor.
    Dante straightened up and breathed deep. For a moment, it seemed that Pierce was out for the count like his buddy Arlo —u ntil Pierce flipped onto his side, grabbed Dante’s leg, and yanked it out from under him. Dante’s arms flew to his sides as he stumbled back and fell to the floor with a loud thump.
    Pierce wasted no time getting on top of him. He pulled his fist back and slammed it into Dante’s face.
    Rage shot through me.
    Pierce drew his fist back, ready to strike again as Dante thrashed beneath him.
    â€œHey!” I yelled.
    Pierce glanced toward me. Dante shoved him forward by kicking his legs up. Pierce spread both arms out to catch himself before falling against Dante’s chest.
    With his arms momentarily occupied, Dante pushed him over and rolled on top. Quick as lightning, he pulled his leg in and reached for the knife holstered around his ankle. He leaned back, torso rising above Pierce’s body, and plunged the knife into the vampire’s heart.
    Pierce went still almost instantly.
    Dante pulled his knife out and wiped it clean on the hem of Pierce’s shirt. H e stood slowly and touched his left cheek with his free hand. The skin had started turning purple.
    â€œAre you okay?” I asked.
    He dropped his