The look on Soborgne’s face told Jenda she had made a rookie mistake by letting her anger dissolve her shields. Grabbing Drew, she shoved him roughly to the side. They hid behind the massive tree hoping that they would not be discovered.
Jenda’s whispers were frantic. “Should we run? She knows we are here.”
Drew pulled her silently into the darker shadows of the woods. “Does anyone else know? Did he see you? Will she tell the others?”
Jenda’s anger quickly turned to fear and her eyes swam with tears. “I don’t know anymore. I want to say no. I want to say she will protect us but I just don’t know anymore. She let him hold her and she held him back. I don’t know her anymore. That girl, she is not my Sobo.”
Before they could move on, Jenda heard Soborgne whisper her name. Turning from Drew, despite his protest, she moved back to the tree. Soborgne stood at the open window, her black hair falling loose around her heart shaped face. Having sent Augustine away with the excuse that she needed a minute to compose herself, she sought out the dark tree line for her friend.
Jenda hesitated until she heard the urgent whisper come again. Unable to fight the bond between the two of them, she stepped forward. She remained silent even though she wanted to blurt out so many things. She wanted to tell her friend how much she missed her and loved her. She wanted to yell at her for choosing to leave with the man and for being a traitor. She wanted to weep, laugh, rail, and scream.
Soborgne sensed Jenda’s inner turmoil and felt as equally distraught. The look on her face was both pleading and sad. “Jenda, you have to get out of here. If they catch you, they will have both of us and the prophecy will come true.”
Jenda’s words were pure venom. “Like you care! You came here with him, knowing they are just using you. You couldn’t stand not to be center of attention. All our lives you have been first, so now you can be on your own.”
Jenda turned to walk away but Soborgne yelled her name. Jenda spun just in time to see the silhouette of a man as he grabbed Soborgne by her beautiful hair and yanked her back from the window. Two men appeared as shadows and Jenda watched them drag her friend away.
Augustine glared down at Jenda for a moment before leaping from the balcony. She tried to run but he was too fast. His fist knotted in her curls and whipped her around to face him. The minute their eyes locked, Jenda knew she would not live to see the sun rise. Augustine’s legendary cruelty blazed in his strange eyes.
Augustine jolted a little as another body crashed into them. Drew had attempted to knock her free of the monster’s grip but had failed. Augustine barely moved and his grip on Jenda tightened. Drew sprung back to his feet, his eyes blazed red as he displayed his fangs in a challenge to the superior vampire.
Augustine laughed, his voice full of mirth as he stared down his unworthy opponent. Drew charged again and Augustine used a single hand to send the boy’s body sliding into the trees. Jenda gnashed her teeth at the ancient vampire and tried to claw at his stony flesh. Before Drew could gain his feet, Augustine whipped her over his shoulder and ran through the veranda door. Jenda called out to Drew as he gave chase.
“Find the book of blood and bone. The spirits know.” Her words ended in a horrible shriek as Augustine stabbed a syringe into her hip. Jenda gave a fierce kick and the needle fell to the floor before they were both gone from Drew’s sight.
10
Meredith cut the final rune into Matteo’s skin as she educated the others on how they would be linked. “The symbols will be as unique as each of you but will tie us all together in a bond. The runes will allow you to feed from each other’s energy.”
Marked and ready, Tobias began his ascent to the small space behind the large brick oven on the patio. The vantage point would give him a place where he could hide while disabling the enemy with acoustic trauma. As he neared the patio, a scream full of pain and anger rang out.
The scream froze them all in their tracks for a millisecond before Matteo and Patrick took action. Matteo shot a mental thread towards Tobias, hoping he would catch it. Start the attack. They have Jenda. No time.
Patrick ordered the others to move. Giving Tobias little time to disable their opponents, they entered the villa. The attack became a rescue mission and the odds stacked even higher against them all. The Dracul turned on the intruders with quick and deadly defense and the room exploded into an instant bloodbath.
Patrick blasted two witches before they could pass the long tables, their bodies raining down on the room’s occupants in a mass of gore. Nicholi drove headlong into a large male vampire who looked as if he could be a Nordic Viking. The two grappled like angry bears in a cage. The ferocious growls shook the room as they attempted to tear each other’s throats out.
Chenda leapt over her advancing opponent, sending one sharp sickle downward. Her intended victim, a female vampire, proved quick enough to avoid having her face split open but not quick enough to save her ear. Without Nicholi’s large presence to hide her, Anya darted away from opponents praying that her power could keep up with the onslaught of attackers. As the earless woman fled from Chenda, Anya sent a burst of fire toward her and watched as she burned.
For every vampire and witch that burned, bled, or fell to the ground convulsing, two more manifested. They must have been somewhere out of Anya’s sight when she looked into the crystal because the multitude of Dracul bearing down on them grew with each breath. Meredith slit the throat of an old and haggard witch when the foolish woman stepped in to block her movements. She only regretted the loss of a sister witch for a second before she turned on a young slave wielding a stake.
Delayed by a psychic shield cast by the old one witch that Meredith had slain, Tobias finally broke through. As his efforts finally surfaced, nearly ten Dracul members fell to their knees and squirmed in pain. They brought their hands up to cover their ears in a vain attempt to shut out the brain shattering noise. Chenda felt no remorse as she used her sickles to separate the fallen vampires’ heads from their shoulders. The floors ran red and slick with the powerful blood of ancient creatures.
Anya was the first of the Vajdahunyad to fall. The blood-filled air caused her power to stutter. As her hands heated, they drew in the influx of moisture and caused each shot to take longer than before. Cursing, she tried to draw her weapon as a feral young male leaped. Their bodies tumbled to the ground and a searing pain ripped through Anya’s gut. The boy’s teeth were steel spikes as he tore her throat open and feasted.
Stumbling onto Anya and her attacker, Patrick tried to save her. The young vampire, engorged in feeding off the powerful blood of one so old, didn’t notice the Irish blood drinker’s approach. With brutal force, the stake pierced through the ribcage and directly through the vampire’s heart. Dark blood sprayed up in a geyser, covering Patrick’s face.
Anya’s eyes met with his and she whispered, “Thank you.” Too weak to move, she lay as if she were dead, hoping the others would pass her by until her body healed enough to stand. Wiping the thick liquid from his eyes and licking his lips, Patrick moved on. If Anya made it, he would be pleased, but he couldn’t jeopardize the mission to care for her. The fighting grew heavier. The Vajdahunyad vampires were waning. The Dracul witches, not affected by Tobias’s mind attack, were pugnacious in their offense.
The bodies crushed against each other in battle and toppled the furniture in the mayhem. Celeste and Imre waited in the corridor for their opportune moment. Just as Matteo had foretold, Mellich attempted to escape the banquet room flanked by two escorts. The Dracul leader didn’t suspect anything until the first escort, a large vampire of African descent, fell to the floor and his head rolled two feet away.
The second escort was less successful than the first. In his attempt to confront his attackers, he pushed Mellich further into the hall. Imre’s stake found its mark in the minion’s heart just as Celeste grabbed Mellich by the throat and slammed him into the opposite wall. The ancient Dracul leader shot back at her in a blur of speed, c
utting her laugh of pure satisfaction short. He tore her shoulder from its socket as he spun her face-first to the marble tiled floor.
Imre struck from behind, stake in hand. Quicker than he expected, Mellich kicked him squarely in the chest without releasing Celeste. Imre crumpled into a heap as the impact whirled him backward. With his chest cavity crushed, he could only watch Mellich torture Celeste while his bones slowly knitted back together.
Placing his boot-clad foot on the side of Celeste’s face, Mellich twisted her injured arm. The anguish in her screams seemed to delight the ancient vampire. His voice was cold iron when he spoke. “I see you survived after all, Celeste. It is a pity to have to kill you twice. The whole thing is so tedious.”
Mellich unsheathed the falcata he carried with him from the days when he had battled the Romans. The wickedly sharp short sword had once struck fear into the heart of the greatest armies to march. At the sight of the blade, Celeste renewed her struggles. In his arrogance, Mellich gave her time to catch her breath. With a solid thrust, she knocked her enemy off balance and yanked her wrist from his iron grip. Scampering to escape, Celeste made it to all fours before he landed a hard kick to her side.
The blow sent her ribs careening through her lungs and blood spattered the ground from her open mouth. Mellich grabbed the front of her hair and yanked back until the fragile bones in her spine cracked. Sliding the blade across her cheek like a lover’s caress, he smiled wickedly. “I almost wish you could live to see the angels fall.”
Mellich raised his arm and brought the curved sword hurtling down in one fluid and deadly motion toward Celeste’s exposed throat. Just before the blade met flesh, Imre slammed his stake with as much force as he could muster into the Dracul leader’s back. The Dracul leader fell but not before wounding the vampire queen of Vajdahunyad greatly.
The falcata, sharpened to a razor’s edge, missed its mark but the damage was still severe. The blade had slipped through the meat of Celeste’s arm, filleting the flesh of her deltoid and sticking into the bone. Imre threw Mellich’s body to the side and pulled Celeste into his arms. As gently as he could, he eased the knife from where it was lodged as she buried her face in his powerful chest.
Biting into his wrist, Imre smeared blood onto Celeste’s wound. Crimson liquid poured from the gaping hole left by the falcata for several minutes until her skin finally knitted itself back together. As he murmured sweet words to Celeste, Imre’s mind forced him to recall the last battle and her near death. The current fight still waged only a few feet away but the world was unimportant to him. He would not leave her side again. Lifting his queen into his arms, Imre carried her from danger’s reach.
Mellich’s body lay forgotten. Caught in a torment of hell, his mind screamed but he could not move. The stake remained lodged in the right ventricle of his heart but did not fully penetrate the organ. The obstruction turned his body into a prison and each weakened beat of his heart sent a shiver of pain as the poison from the wood spread farther and deeper. He lay helpless and dying, just as he had left Celeste the night the Dracul raided the Vajdahunyad castle.
11
Augustine burst into Soborgne’s room, ordering out the guards that had restrained her after she was caught talking to Jenda. Soborgne’s first instinct was to rail at him for his cruel treatment of her and of Jenda. She had been sitting frightened and angry since she heard Jenda’s terrified screams. Instead, another rant came raging out of her.
Seeing Jenda’s body lying motionless in his arms and her head tilted in an odd position, Soborgne assumed the worse. She ran to them, tears instantly jumping to her eyes. “You bastard, you killed her. How could you? I will never forgive you!”
Augustine shoved her away roughly before dumping Jenda’s body on the bed. “Shut up, you little wretch. Just shut up. She isn’t dead. She’s knocked out. I injected her with a small amount of witch blood and Casava. She will wake up soon. If you had alerted me instead of trying to help them, this wouldn’t have happened.”
Grabbing Soborgne by the face, he dug his fingers into the flesh, and glared into her eyes. “Listen. Do you hear that? Those are my brothers and sisters dying. Your friends are being torn to shreds. That is the sound of war, Soborgne, and their blood is on your hands. You allowed this slaughter to begin.”
Sobo tried to protest but Augustine shoved her away once again. Storming from the room to join his Dracul brethren in the battle below, he slammed the door hard enough to make the foundations shimmy. Soborgne ran to the door to find it locked. She prepared to rip it from the hinges but she heard voices on the other side. She listened in shock as she heard Augustine instruct at least two guards to kill Jenda if the two tried to escape.
Turning back to the girl who once meant more than life to her, Soborgne tried to wake Jenda. No amount of coaxing would rouse her. Trying to fight off the guards while carrying her unconscious body would not be possible. She had nothing left to do but wait and hope they would somehow survive the war, the prophecy, and the hell Andras would unleash.
Augustine ran through the house. He knew he must join Mellich and inform him that he had captured both girls. They could flee the house and still fulfill the prophecy. He hated to leave the others as fodder for the beast of war but their purpose was greater. The annihilation of their enemy would bring about a new era and within the vampire reign he would create an army, control the most powerful coven to wield magic, and have his Soborgne’s love once again.
The desire to see his hard work and planning come into its finality maddened him. It gave a frenzied look to his eyes and quickened his step. The smell of blood filled the house around him and he allowed it to wash over him. His fangs lengthened and his eyes burned red. To feed, kill, and destroy was his mission. He would reap the rewards of the bloody seeds he’d sowed.
By the time he reached the hallway, the insanity of the darkness overwhelmed him to the point that he almost did not stop in time. The battle raged and he nearly mistook the fight just beyond him as a normal skirmish. When he recognized the players in the deadly dance, he slid to a halt. Something inside him warned that he should remain hidden in the shadows.
He watched as Imre staked his leader and old friend and carried the woman away. Rendered powerless by a complete sense of immobility, he did not lift a finger to stop the brutality of the attack. When no one remained other than his fallen brother, Augustine advanced. He could sense the life still inside the bleeding body. His decision was a choice. The darkness held his hand as he retrieved the fallen falcata.
He could have removed the stake and healed Mellich with his blood but he saw the fault in such an action much clearer than he ever could before. The man was not a leader. Mellich’s arrogance and carelessness would eventually kill their revolution. Instead, he lifted the ancient vampire’s head and whispered, “Adieu mon vieil ami, goodbye my old friend.”
The falcata cut through the flesh, the cords of muscle, veins, and vertebrate with ease. In one horrible moment, Mellich’s head hung in Augustine’s hand, cut free from the body. The gore and blood seemed suddenly too much. The darkness faded and Augustine realized the crime he had committed. He was no longer a faithful and devout member of the Order Dracul. He was a rogue who had violated the most sacred law by killing his vampire ally.
Augustine felt lost and afraid for the first time since the priest’s woman had taken his sight. He didn’t even know the steps to initiate the forge between their world and the ethereal realm where demons and angels roamed. Fear turned him on his heels. He fled from the death that seeped through the walls from the battle that continued only yards away.
He ran to the room where he had hidden Soborgne and Jenda, still gripping the deadly blade. The girls were the key to the prophecy. He must get to them and escape quickly. The rest would come later. He would have millennia to find his opening. He wondered if the girls already knew the answer.
12
Jenda woke. The familiar confusion filled her head and the burn of t
hirst ripped through her veins. Drugged twice in one day, her body quivered from the strain. Soborgne’s face was the first thing she saw when the haze cleared from her vision. Her first instinct was to think it had all been an insane dream and the two of them were back in her bedroom at home or out on the Indiana dunes.
When she smiled up at her best friend and the tips of her fangs pricked the inside of her mouth, reality crashed down around her. Soborgne returned the smile with hopeful glee until Jenda’s fist caught her right cheek and propelled her backward. Within seconds, the two girls were red eyed and raging at each other with barely concealed hate.
Pain, hurt, mistrust, and betrayal heated the fury that exploded between them. Accusations, curses, and threats slammed each of them down farther into a pit of anger.
Jenda’s voice filled with the pulse-stopping power that very few had ever heard her use. “You are nothing but a cheap slut. You turned your back on us. You let these monsters destroy you just because of that…that…man. Do you even know who he is?”
Soborgne’s sarcastic tone held the threat of retaliated violence. “Yes, Jenda, I do know who he is. What you don’t know is that he showed me the truth about me and you. Perfect, princess Jenda. You turned your back on me first. You and your little puppets, you never even tried. You all just dubbed me dark and evil and feared me. You hated me before I left. You just didn’t have the lady balls to say so.”
Jenda laughed and the tone was mocking. “That’s not true. You left us to die.”
“You let them come here to kill me.” Soborgne’s hands curved into fists, ready to beat the haughtiness out of Jenda’s voice.
Augustine chose that moment to burst into the room. The blood on his hands and clothes smelled of ancient knowledge and fresh kill. He held the deadly falcata clutched in his hand. The shock of seeing the females close to shredding each other’s throats astonished him. His eyes took in the sight and ricocheted in his brain. Soborgne’s cheek bore a mark that could not be mistaken for anything other than the result of a solid blow and tiny little Jenda looked as if she would like to hit her again.
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