Medea was tearing frogs apart and scattering pieces far and wide, yet no matter how many he killed there were always more. I'd never considered just how many frogs might live in a swamp this size. There was something strange happening inside Medea. His skin bulged in odd places. He'd pulled the stake out of his throat, but only made rasping grunts as he fought. The sheer weight of frogs pulled him down. A frog clawed its way into the vampire's mouth while two of its fellows were ...