“One of them probably fetched more blocking devices from my beloved sister,” Amane muttered. Her shoulders were stiff, the tension rising. She, too, knew what was coming.
The Perfects took a couple more steps toward us, their claws extending—they seemed to go on forever, but, then again, that was just my perception. I was the prey. They were the predators. Mighty, bloodthirsty, fearless, and invincible.
“Oh, yeah, Amal’s a real doll.” Araquiel chuckled.
He was doing a pretty good job of keeping his cool, but I could still tell that he, too, was on edge. He had no control over Abaddon if we annoyed him enough. His previous attempt to capture us had gone sideways specifically because of that. He didn’t want the second to end the same way, but, then again, with no control over the maniac, he didn’t have much of a choice if, say, one of us decided to push Abaddon’s buttons.
“I know. She’s dependable and loyal to a fault,” Amane said, then drew a pair of long knives, which she kept strapped to her back. “But it doesn’t matter. We’ll take you down again, and we’ll crush the blockers once more, and then you’ll have to chase us around some more. It’s only a matter of time before Ta’Zan begins to wonder about your competence, and I’m actually curious as to what he’ll say when you all come out of this empty-handed. Again.”
Araquiel’s smirk vanished. I realized then that Amane was going for their nerves again.
“He’ll probably classify them as Faulties and have them rot on the manufacturing line with the rest of your brothers and sisters,” I said to her. “I mean, what more can you do with a bunch of incompetent chicken-wings, other than put them out of their misery?”
Amane chuckled softly.
“Are you sure we want to go down that road again?” Rose asked, slightly wary of what we were about to unleash.
“Do we have any other choice?” I replied with a shrug. “It’s either this or capture, and I’m pretty sure we’ve still got some work to do.”
“You outsiders think you can rile me up again?” Abaddon said. The moonlight made him look downright scary, the bluish light outlining his impressive and muscular figure, reflecting against the shiny black claws that extended from his fingertips. “I’m not your fool. I learned from our last encounter. You’re pretty smart, but you’re not better than us.”
“Meh, I’d dare to disagree,” I replied dryly. “I mean, look at you all, blindly following orders, foolish enough to think you’re the only ones who deserve to live. You’d have to be an idiot to believe that.”
“We’re just realistic,” Araquiel said. “Why share the resources of this or any other planet with weaklings like yourselves? Why trouble ourselves with diplomacy and making sure your little feelings don’t get hurt when we go ahead and take whatever the hell we want? Huh?”
I groaned, rolling my eyes. “You make it so obvious that you were made in a friggin’ bowl. You may be brilliant and fast learners and whatever, but you never learned how to think for yourselves. Granted, you’re, what? A week old or something? There isn’t enough education to cram into your heads, compared to experience. Some of us have been around for decades.”
“Centuries,” Nevis interjected, proudly raising his chin.
“You old hag,” Elonora retorted with a grin, and the shadow of a smile fluttered across the Dhaxanian prince’s face.
“I don’t look a day past twenty-five. I think I’m doing all right for myself,” he said.
Araquiel grunted. “Your experience is nothing in the face of our power, and you know it.”
“Ugh, are we going to keep tooting our horns here, or are we going to put these little bugs in a cage and get this over with?” Abaddon cut in, restless.
“Why? Got somewhere to go? A master to please? Like a good little puppy?” Amane asked. “I thought you liked to take your time with your prey. Or are you really afraid you’ll end up cleaning the hallways?”
Abaddon pointed an angry finger at her. “Whatever happens to me is nothing, compared to what Ta’Zan has in store for you. You’re lucky he still wants you alive!” He snarled, then sneered at Douma. “As for you, you traitorous little wench! You could’ve freed yourself five times already, yet you prefer to hang out with these outsiders. I should peel the skin off your flesh, to teach you loyalty again.”
“You talk a mean game for someone whose head I sliced clean off,” Douma replied, raising an eyebrow. “If I get out of these restraints again, I will gladly remind you why I’m infinitely better than you, Aba-dumb.”
“Are you trying to stir trouble?!” Araquiel hissed. “Stop it, Douma!”
“He keeps asking for it,” Douma said, seemingly bored. “Talks a mean game, but that’s about it.”
Oriphiel sighed, her shoulders dropping. “I swear, sometimes I do think you’ve switched sides, Douma.”
“I haven’t. I’m wearing these, and there’s nothing I can do about it,” Douma retorted, raising her cuffed wrists. I’d made sure to put every possible binding charm I remembered on them and on the ones around her ankles, which were connected by a long chain that allowed her to walk and run better. “Abaddon thinks they’re using run-of-the-mill metals to keep me bound, but the fool has no idea about what kind of magic these outsiders are carrying.”
Elonora and Rose moved slowly behind Hunter and me, where Leah and Samael waited. They needed some Faulty blood to even the playing field a little bit, while Amane and I kept the Perfects busy with some smack talk.
I had a feeling that Douma was also helping here with her jabs at Abaddon. I didn’t know what to think of it just yet, since she was still an enemy and our prisoner. But I had to appreciate the assistance, voluntary or otherwise.
“You think Faulty blood will help you defeat us?” Araquiel asked, noticing Elonora and Rose in the back. We didn’t expect them to stay silent or not notice, but we did need a minute for the girls to feed. I found it odd that the Perfects weren’t in such a rush to take us down. Then again, they’d been hounding us for days. They were probably taking some time to enjoy this. “We’re Perfects! You can’t kill us!”
“Obviously not,” Elonora replied, wiping the blood from her lips with the back of her hand. “But we can tear your heads off, over and over, until you understand that you can’t kill or capture us, either. Not until we do what we’ve set out to do.”
She and Rose moved back to the front, while Leah and Samael stayed close to Dmitri and Douma. We had to protect our Perfect cargo. Ridan and Zeriel, followed by Vesta and Ben, shifted to our sides, forming a wide defense line. Rose and Elonora stayed at the front, ready to attack. Nevis and Kallisto joined them, while Hunter and I stayed in the middle. We didn’t want to wear ourselves out or be spread too thin.
The hell that was about to unfold required us to work in pairs. Another reason why Elonora and Rose didn’t feed off Douma directly was so she could keep her strength, in case we had to repeat our last encounter’s scenario. She was the ace up our sleeve, but we had to get Abaddon angry enough to go into mindless-beast mode again.
I drew my soul-eater blade and showed it to Abaddon. “Remember this?” I asked.
He frowned. He most certainly remembered it, as did the others in his crew. Our blades were marked with swamp witch symbols. They didn’t just slice through flesh. They also ate away at a creature’s soul, piece by piece, until only a weakened shell was left behind, a soft sack of flesh and bones. It worked on every single creature, regardless of their power.
Abaddon had gotten himself cut during our previous encounter. The Perfects had all experienced the loss of little pieces of their atomic souls. I made it my mission to make sure they lost more. No, we couldn’t kill them, but we could weaken the hell out of them, instead.
“You think you can get to me with that toothpick?” Abaddon asked, grinning.
“I can get to you with anything,” I replied. “You forget that we’ve already put you in your place once. We can do it again. Just to make sure it sticks this time.”
“Oh
, I’ll enjoy slicing you,” Abaddon declared, taking a couple of steps forward.
“I’ll enjoy watching you fail and eat your words,” I said.
“So, we’re really doing this, huh? Poking the bear again?” Hunter muttered, giving me a brief sideways glance. I spotted a glimmer of fear in his eyes, but I knew, deep down, that it was mostly related to me. He’d been quite specific when he kissed me, telling me not to almost get myself killed again and scare him half to death. His questions were rhetorical, though. He knew that this was our only viable option.
“Hey, the bear is easily poked,” I replied, then shifted my focus to Araquiel. “Is this really what you thought your life would be like? Babysitting this mindless hound?”
“He’s tracked you this far,” Araquiel said. “I think he’s doing a pretty good job.”
“You don’t have to sound so condescending when you say it,” Abaddon interjected, gritting his teeth. “I’m not your mutt.”
“You say that, but look at your colleagues,” I replied, prompting Abaddon to glance around him. “They’re all on edge, afraid you’ll lose your temper again. Ta’Zan wants us alive, but you’re so easy to bait, man… it’s hilarious.”
“And it’s working, too,” Elonora chimed in. “He’s raging on the inside. Probably feeling undermined and disrespected. He’s struggling to keep his cool now.”
“You shut your mouth, bloodsucker!” Abaddon snarled.
“Oh, yeah, I see what you mean, Lenny,” I said. “He’s been told he’s a Perfect and whatnot. He probably expects to be treated with respect by his brothers and sisters. But they’re clearly bummed out at having to bring him along.”
“If it weren’t for his tracking ability, he’d be washing our clothes back in the coliseum,” Douma replied. I couldn’t help but look at her. She wanted to see him out of control, much like the rest of us. Was she really on our side and using her cuffs as an excuse in front of her siblings? Or was this some kind of long con? There wasn’t any time left to analyze that, though. Abaddon was hanging by a thread.
“I’ll rip your head off,” he said to Douma. “I owe you one for last time, anyway. But I’ll tear your limbs off first, one by one.”
“Aw, look at the big, bad Perfect, talking like a tough guy!” I cooed, as if praising the sweetest little doggy.
That seemed to do the trick. His eyes, one blue and one green like all his brothers, flared with fury as they found me. “I’m sure Father will understand if I bring you back in pieces.”
“Good grief, why do you have to make things so difficult?” Araquiel groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why can’t you just surrender and understand that there’s no way out for you?”
“Because we’re not delusional,” I replied. “There is a way out, and it starts with your biggest weakness,” I added, then pointed at Abaddon, who was becoming restless, breathing heavily as the violent side of him began to swallow him whole. “Him.”
“Enough with this crap. Grab them,” Elyon snapped, then darted toward Elonora and Rose first.
The other Perfects spread out, coming at us from different angles. It was much more difficult to keep up with them this time around. We were tired. Our reflexes weren’t as sharp. With my left hand on my blade, I used my right hand to cast a control spell on one of the Perfects coming at us from the side.
I managed to grip him with it, stunning him for about a second. They were incredibly strong, and my hold on them didn’t last for long. But we only needed a breath or two to take them down. Zeriel was quick to turn around and chop the creature’s head off.
“Thanks!” I said to him. He gave me a wink, then resumed his fight as the other Perfects came at him and Ridan.
I looked to my left, to see Abaddon continuing to stand still, watching as his brothers came at us. My people were struggling, but they still managed to deliver blows with their soul-eater blades. It would take days to regain those lost soul pieces, so the more cuts they made, the weaker the Perfects. We had to have a tactical approach with these people, otherwise brute force was going to put us in cages.
But Abaddon intrigued me. He was still fuming, but he seemed relieved, too. His siblings had taken over, and it took a lot of self-control for him to hold back. I figured that Araquiel had given him a pep talk or two while they tracked us from one island to the next. But I could still break him.
Hunter tackled Elyon, using his fangs and claws to tear into his side. Everything happened fast, so it was hard to keep track of everyone for more than a second or two. Elonora faced off with Oriphiel and another female, while Rose took on two of her own—they were both looking for an attack angle that would allow them to sink their fangs and draw some Perfect blood, too. They didn’t have the time or the opening to drink from the one they’d just beheaded.
Nevis used his frost to cripple two Perfects at once, while Kallisto jumped in and cut one of their heads off. The other broke out of his ice barrier and moved to take Nevis down, but Kallisto plunged her long sword through his back. He growled from the pain, freezing for a split second. It was enough for Nevis to cast a thick ring of Dhaxanian frost around his neck, then decapitate him with one swift blow.
We were definitely getting better at disabling Perfects, but we were still outgunned. There were eleven of them still standing against ten of us—and we were nowhere near as fast or as powerful as they were.
The popping sounds that they made when they darted off at high speed startled me every time. I still couldn’t get used to that noise. It still scared me.
Abaddon was staring at me. He’d probably been ordered not to get involved, but I could tell that he was itching for a fight. I gave him a smirk.
“I thought you were going to chop me up into little pieces,” I said. “What happened? Too scared to go against a witch?”
He bared his fangs at me. “You know what? I was never good with orders, anyway,” he hissed. “I’ll obliterate you, even if it’s the last thing I do.”
“Abaddon, no!” Araquiel shouted, then dodged one of Ben’s fireballs.
It was too late. I’d let the beast loose.
Abaddon came at me, fast and determined. Oriphiel moved away from her fight with Elonora and tried to stop Abaddon, but he swatted her away like a fly, without taking his eyes off me. Hunter rammed his clawed hand through one of his opponents’ chests. It was enough to keep him down for a while, at least. He then jumped back and swiftly shifted into his white wolf form.
I focused a control spell on Abaddon. I cast it, feeling my fingertips burn as the pulse left my hands and smacked into him. He stilled for a moment, a grin slitting his face, ear to ear. Hunter jumped on his back, his jaws snapping open as he gripped the Perfect’s neck. Abaddon growled, then brought his hand up and pulled Hunter away.
“Crap,” I breathed, realizing that Abaddon had already freed himself from my puppet spell. He was definitely stronger than the others, but I wasn’t done yet. I didn’t know any of the death curses, like Lumi did, but I could still throw some nasty stuff his way.
My heart was pounding, watching Hunter as he squirmed in Abaddon’s grip. The Perfect had no trouble holding him, and that ignited ripples of dread within me. The Word whispered in my ear. I repeated the spell, my lips moving but my voice barely audible.
A bright red pulse came out from my palms. It shot forward and enveloped Abaddon in a thin crimson membrane. I had no idea what that spell was, but it definitely immobilized him for more than my puppet curse. Hunter managed to free himself, landing on all fours.
He lunged at Abaddon, but Elyon intercepted him.
“Hunter, no!” I screamed, heat bursting through me, as I watched Elyon and Hunter tackle. The white wolf had a minor advantage, but Elyon’s claws were sharp. They broke through Hunter’s skin, and blood came gushing out.
I froze at the sound of Hunter’s yelp. He was lying on his side, blood pooling beneath him, as Elyon got up and grinned at me.
“Relax, he’s just cripple
d. He’ll stay down and not bother me while I take care of you,” Elyon said, then nodded at Abaddon, who was still encased in that weird, red membrane. “Nice job of keeping this oaf under control, too. You’re going to have to teach me that little trick.”
I was shaking like a leaf, mostly out of anger. I couldn’t take my eyes off Hunter, as the sight of him wounded and lying on the ground like that tore me apart on the inside.
Looking around, I saw that the others weren’t doing that much better, either. Elonora and Rose had yet to get close enough to draw Perfect blood as they struggled with four Perfects. Kallisto was severely injured and having serious trouble with Araquiel. Nevis, too, was bleeding and barely holding his own at that point.
Zeriel was down, his arms shaking as he tried to get himself back up. Vesta tried to help him, but the Perfects kept coming after her. Ridan’s fire managed to torch another Perfect, setting the creature ablaze—it gave Ben the golden opportunity to rush from the other side and cut his head off.
Behind us, Leah, Samael, and Dmitri were having serious trouble as they tried to keep the other Perfects away from Douma. We couldn’t let them release her.
Just then, the sound of paper tearing drew my attention back to Abaddon.
He had managed to break out of the red membrane. It brought Elyon to a screeching halt, as he glanced over his shoulder and saw Abaddon free again. Elyon then looked at me, visibly startled.
“You had to go ahead and get him angry, huh?” he breathed.
Abaddon rushed past him, headed toward me. “You’re mine, little witch!” he growled.
Elyon tried to stop him. He gripped his wrist and jerked him back, but Abaddon simply slit his throat with his claws. Elyon fell backward and landed with a soft thump in the sand, quickly bleeding out. It would be a while before he recovered.
I was now all alone with Abaddon, while the rest of my crew fought to take the other eight down. It wasn’t looking good for us. For me, in particular.
But the Word wasn’t ready to let me down yet. Its whispers flooded my brain. Abaddon had no intention of keeping me alive. And I had no intention of dying.
A Shade of Vampire 64: A Camp of Savages Page 4