Then he threw Marcus.
The vampire sailed through the air and crashed into the warehouse wall with enough force to crater the brick. He slid down and didn't immediately get up.
The other vampires attacked.
They came from multiple angles, using pack tactics refined over years of hunting together. Fast, coordinated, striking at joints and vulnerable points with the precision that suggested extensive combat training.
It didn't matter.
Jolthar's hand caught the first vampire by the face mid-lunge. His fingers tightened. The skull cracked like an eggshell. He dropped the body and turned toward the next.
This one had claws extended, going for his throat in a killing strike. Jolthar caught the wrist and twisted, and the vampire's entire arm came off at the shoulder with the sound of tearing meat and breaking bone.
The vampire screamed. Briefly.
Jolthar's other hand punched through its chest and removed the heart.
Two down in as many seconds.
