by M. K. Dawn
“They went peacefully.” Ethan ran a hand down her arm.
But the pain they endured before would haunt her memory. “We need to get that stone back from Guinevere.”
Heavy footsteps charged down the hall.
Silvaria turned to Euphenia. “Go.”
She kissed Silvaria on the cheek then disappeared, but not before whispering, “I will send help.”
The doors flew open and The Forsaken piled in, led by C.J. “It’s crazy out there. The vampires have the wolves outnumbered. Anybody got any bright ideas on how we’re going to get the hell out of here?”
Samantha looked to Silvaria. “If you had your magic back, could you stop them?”
“Depending on how many there are, but I don’t think—”
“Hundreds.” Laurent ran his fingers across his lips.
“Even with my magic, I couldn’t stop them on my own, but—”
“What did Euphenia mean when she said she’d send help?” Samantha cut her off.
Silvaria threw her head back. “Can I please finish a sentence?”
“Sorry,” several apologized at once.
“As I was saying, even with my magic I cannot stop them by myself, but there are those who can. And they should be here any second.”
A loud crack reverberated through the hall. Several people screamed amidst the sound of guns cocking.
Silvaria sprinted out of the room. “Stop! They’re on our side.”
Samantha leaned against the doorframe, weaker than she’d felt in her entire life, and stared in awe at the men and women who’d arrived. Each was dressed in black combat gear with a variety of weapons hanging off them. They were young—too young to be mixed up in something like this.
“These are the Dhampyr,” Silvaria explained. “Vampire hunters. Half mortal, half vampire who did not take the Immortal Sacrament.”
The Forsaken backed away.
“Don’t be frightened,” said a petite woman. With her brown hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, she didn’t look a day over sixteen. “My name is Aurelia. This is my unit. We’ve brought weapons for each of you.”
“We have our own weapons,” Laurent spat. “How do we know you won't shoot us in the back when we're not looking?”
“Our weapons hold Dire Fir bullets—the only bullets that can kill a vampire. As for the trust, we do not kill all vampires, just those who we perceive to be a threat.”
“Everyone quiet down,” Darrien yelled, concentrating on his earpiece. “Nikko, what did you say?” Darrien listened for a second. “We’re on our way.”
“What now?” Evie asked.
“Tito and the other packs are retreating.”
Ethan cursed under his breath. “Should have left him tied up.”
“Nikko said the rabid vampires are trying to flee and Guinevere is destroying everything in her path.” Darrien rubbed his temples. “His pack can’t hold them back much longer.”
“We have to stop them.” Samantha wasn’t about to let Ethan’s pack die when they’d come here to save her.
Aurelia waved a hand to her unit and they were down the stairs without making a sound.
Laurent turned to The Forsaken. “I’m not saying you have to go, but no matter what, we will have to fight our way out of here. It might as well behind those trained to kill.”
“There they go.” Darrien said as The Forsaken headed for the exits. “What’s the plan for us?”
“We fight alongside them,” Samantha blurted. “It wouldn’t be right if we didn’t. They are here because of us.”
“No.” Ethan looked to Samantha and Silvaria. “Guinevere believes you both are dead, and it needs to stay that way. If Guinevere discovers the truth, she’ll try the spell again.”
Samantha turned to her. “What do you think?”
She met Samantha’s stare. “Without my magic, I’m useless. I’ve never fired a gun in my life. And you’re mortal now. And as the only two mortals here, we’ll be prime targets for the rabid vampires.”
“The dinner bell,” Darrien grinned, “so to speak.”
Mortality would be hard to get used to, but they had a point. “Fine. How do you suggest we get out of here undetected?”
“Through the courtyard,” Darrien said. “Nikko said the area’s clear.”
“Let’s get out of here.” Ethan grasped Samantha’s hand.
They raced to the exit and threw open the doors. The sound of fighting echoed through the courtyard, but there wasn’t a vampire, witch, or werewolf in sight.
“Where now?” Samantha whispered just in case there were any scouts listening.
“Nikko said we can head to the employee parking lot. There isn’t a lot of activity there.”
Samantha nudged Ethan as they sprinted across the square. “I want a gun. I know they handed you two.”
Ethan’s nostrils flared, but he handed one over and she tucked it into the pocket hidden under the tulle of her dress. It was a design she’d come up with after hours of staring at the dress and wondering what she would do if there was something she needed to carry.
“If we run into trouble, I want you stay close.”
“I can take care of myself, Ethan.” A spark inside her flickered. “I might be mortal, but I’m not entirely human either.”
He looked her straight in the eyes. “You were dead. Dead. And I wanted nothing more to die with you. I can’t go through that again.”
Samantha grasped his hand. “Look around us. There’s nothing but death.”
“There’s the car,” Darrien yelled.
“Someone might want to remind him,” Silvaria huffed, “that some of us do not have immortal speed.”
“Or the magic to transport,” a voice sneered.
Silvaria spun around. “It’s Laras. Keep running.”
Samantha’s legs wobbled as she pushed harder to keep up.
“Going somewhere?” Laras laughed from behind.
Samantha slammed into an unseen barrier and fell to the ground. She banged on it as hard as she could, calling out to Ethan as he turned around. He sprinted towards her and paused before running into the wall himself.
“Ethan!” she screamed, “Run. Get out of here!”
Laras chuckled. “He can’t hear you. Besides, they are about to have their hands full.”
Rounding the banquet hall, a hoard of vampires raced towards them. Ethan and Evie shifted to their wolf forms while Darrien readied himself, a gun in each hand. Silvaria kept running and made it inside the car just in time. How long it would keep the vampires out, Samantha didn’t know. By the way they crashed through objects in their way, she guessed it wouldn’t be long.
“As horrid as those monsters are,” Guinevere’s sing-song voice sent shivers down Samantha’s spine, “I must say, they have come in handy.”
Samantha kept her eyes on her friends. To face the approaching Guinevere would only give in to the fear.
A group of Dhampyr appeared out of nowhere, just as the vampires were set to attack. The fluidity of their movements held Samantha’s attention far longer than she expected. Their fighting skills were unlike anything she’d ever seen before: graceful—almost like a dance, but deadly.
“They were the ones who gave away your little secret, you know.”
Samantha whirled around to face Guinevere. “What secret?”
“That Euphenia lives. She always had a soft spot for those who were born half vampire, half human but wished to not take part in the Immortal Sacrament.”
“I didn’t realize we had a choice in the matter.”
“Long ago, we gave them a choice. Until we realized what they would become.” Guinevere moved closer.
Samantha hadn’t noticed, too worried about her friends, but a purple aura silhouetted Guinevere’s body, radiating from her clenched hand.
“You noticed my increase of power, did you? The benefit of the Stone of Decadence is whoever uses it to take power gets to keep it.”
Samantha gl
anced over her shoulder. Along with her friends, several more werewolves and Dhampyr had joined the fight. Good thing, because the rabid vampires had nearly tripled.
“That should keep them busy for a while. Long enough for us to get far away from here.”
“Us?” Samantha’s heart raced.
Guinevere shot her an incredulous look. “I will keep you my prisoner until we can round up the next group of heirs.”
Laras seized Samantha’s arm. “Fight back. I dare you.”
“Bring her to me,” Guinevere ordered. “There is something odd about the way she smells.”
Samantha narrowed her eyes. “Since when do witches have a heightened sense of smell?”
Guinevere rolled the stone between her fingers. “I now understand why the Primordials long for immortality. The power that comes along with it is intoxicating.”
Laras shoved Samantha to the ground at Guinevere’s feet. She bit her lip to keep from crying out as she smashed her knee against the gun in her pocket. The gun with the Dire Fir bullets.
“Ah,” Guinevere sighed, “that is how you survived. Euphenia came to your aid and brought you back from the dead. It is a dangerous spell, and one I can suck right out of you when the time is right. Now, lets go. Is Laras going to have to carry you or can I trust you to walk on your own?”
There wasn’t a chance in hell Samantha was going with her. She’d rather die. “I think I’ll go with option three.” She pulled the gun from her pocket and directed it straight at Guinevere’s heart.
Guinevere laughed. “Silly girl. Laras, please put an end to this nonsense.”
She slipped the gun in her pocket as Laras lunged. The small spark that danced inside her earlier ignited and she moved with the grace of the Dhampyr, her body reacting to each of Laras’ advances as if she’d been training for this moment her entire life. A hard right to the left temple and he fell to the ground—unconscious or dead, she couldn’t care less.
Samantha turned back to Guinevere. “Nice try.”
“Laras enjoys hand to hand combat. I, on the other hand, use my God given magic.” With a flick of her wrist, Samantha went flying but landed with cat-like agility.
Guinevere tried several more times and Samantha moved faster with each attempt, no longer able to hit her with a spell.
“Enough!” Guinevere screamed. “I didn’t want it to come to this. I didn’t want to have to start over. But you leave me no choice.”
She opened her palm to reveal the stone and chanted in the same unknown language. The tentacles shot forward and wrapped around Samantha’s wrist before she could move out of the way.
Pain crept up her arm, but nothing like before. It was almost as if her body fought against the stone.
“No need to be brave, little girl. Scream. Beg for mercy. They won’t think less of you.”
Samantha peered over her shoulder. The fighting had stopped. Countless of rabid vampires lay dead on the ground and all eyes were now trained on her. Ethan beat against the invisible wall, mouthing her name. Darrien wrapped Evie in his arms as Silvaria wept. Nikko hovered close to the other werewolves, still in wolf form, ready to continue the fight. Aurelia and the rest of the Dhampyr stood idly by in a sort of morbid fascination.
“Maybe we should let them listen in.” Guinevere waved her hand and they all perked up.
The sound was only one way, which she was thankful for. The pain on their faces was torture enough.
“Surrender,” Guinevere cooed, “and this will all be over. Tell me where Euphenia is and you will live out the rest of your life in luxury. Your friends will understand. They know the true Samantha de Alne. The party girl, the socialite. Born to a life a privilege. The one who when bored, befriended a human and ruin not only her life, but everyone else’s around her.”
Tears slipped down her cheeks. “That’s not who I am anymore.”
“Of course you are, my dear. You’re a selfish little brat who thinks of only herself. Your friends know and love you anyway, but they expect when your life is on the line, you will choose yourself every time.”
The spark within her kindled, catching Samantha off guard. Guinevere knew the exact words that would tear open her insecurities if she were still that person. That girl had faded long ago, replaced by a woman who would lie down her own life if it meant the rest of the immortals could live.
The tentacles pulsated, trying their best to pull the magic from her blood, but Samantha wouldn’t let the stone take her life again.
She wrapped her hand around the feelers and hauled herself from the ground.
Guinevere stumbled back. “Impossible.”
The tentacles refused to break their grasp, so Samantha used them as a lifeline, pulling herself closer until she stood only a foot away from Guinevere.
“Fight it as long as you can, but sooner or later the stone always prevails.”
Samantha drew the gun from her pocket and held it inches from Guinevere’s chest. “Will the stone still prevail if you’re dead?”
“You wouldn’t dare,” Guinevere sputtered, but her eyes told a different story.
Samantha cocked her head. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Guinevere threw back her shoulders and thrust out her chest until it butted up against the barrel of the gun. “I’m a witch and cannot be harmed by the Dire Fir.”
“A witch? No, no, no, little girl. You said it yourself,” Samantha pulled the trigger and watched the life fade from Guinevere’s eyes. The Stone of Decadence slipped from her lifeless hands and shattered releasing thousands of tiny white orbs of light into the air, “the magic from the stone made you an Immortal.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
Samantha took a seat on the window seal of the one-bedroom cabin she and Ethan shared. Sipping on hot tea, she watched the sun rise above the tree line hoping the caffeine would kick in soon.
A soft knock at the door pulled her away from her morning routine. “Come in.”
The door inched open and an elderly woman lumbered in. It took Samantha full thirty seconds before she realized who the woman was.
“Euphenia?” Samantha jumped from her seat and rushed to guide the woman to the couch. “My God, you're so…so…”
“Old?” Euphenia patted Samantha’s arm with her dry fingers. “You can say it. The good news is I look at least ten years younger than I did yesterday. It will take time, but I will be back to my old—young—self in no time.”
“How did it—”
“Before that,” Euphenia interrupted, “is that earl grey?”
“Yes. Would you like some?”
Euphenia flattened her skirt. “I would love some. Two sugars, please.”
Samantha grabbed a mug from the cabinet. “Would you like anything else?”
“No, no. Just the tea.”
“Here you go,” Samantha handed her the cup and took a seat on the chair opposite of the couch.
Euphenia took a long whiff before setting it down on the coffee table to cool. “My granddaughter mentioned you were asking to see me. I apologize for the delay.”
Delay was an understatement. It had been a month since Aurelia had invited them to live in the Dhampyr village, but Samantha didn’t argue, only nodded and sipped her tea.
“That night when I resurrected you, it was unlike any spell that has ever been cast.”
Samantha straightened. “What do you mean?”
“We have long been forbidden from bringing the dead back to life—by the God of Light and God of Darkness alike. Too many witches were taking advantage of the spell, so the Gods stripped us of that power.”
“Then how did you do it?”
Euphenia lifted her drink to her lips. “I offered myself as collateral. Sacrificed my immortality—”
“What!” Samantha nearly dropped her mug.
“Let me finish. I sacrificed my immortality for a month's time, in which I gave it to you to use.” She paused. “Correction: nin
ety-nine percent of my immortality. The last percent kept me alive. In a coma, but alive. It is why the Stone of Decadence didn’t work on you the second time around. It cannot siphon the magic of a Primordial.”
Samantha let that sink in for a moment. “It left me yesterday. I felt a shift…a change. I’m not sure how to explain it. I felt—feel—different.”
“Mortal?”
“That’s probably it.” Samantha took a sip of her tea. “Why would you do that for me? I know a month is not long when you live forever, but it must have come with a risk.”
“It did.” Euphenia smiled. “I made the deal with the God of Light, so if you acted in a way that displeased her, she would have stripped my immortality from the world and we both would have perished.”
Samantha’s hands trembled as she placed her mug on the table beside her. “But…I killed someone. How was she okay with that?”
“The God of Darkness took Guinevere many years ago. And as she planned to take countless of innocent lives, her death made the world a better place.”
Sweat beaded along her hairline. “I…”
“It still haunts you?”
Samantha swallowed hard. “Every night it replays in my dreams. Over and over again. I wake screaming, the sheets drenched, the gunshot still ringing in my ears.”
Euphenia patted the space beside her. “Come sit with me, child.”
She stumbled around the coffee table and plopped down. Euphenia pulled Samantha into a hug—the way Samantha always thought a mother should react when their child hurt.
“This is why the God of Light allowed you to live. You are a good person, Samantha.”
“Good person?” Samantha jumped from the couch. “How am I a good person? If it weren’t for me, the world wouldn’t have descended into chaos.”
Euphenia laughed—a full-on belly laugh complete with tears.
“You find this funny?”
She wiped the tears from her cheeks. “What I find funny is you believing the world was not already in a state of chaos long before you were born. The Immortal Council found a way to mask the mayhem, but it was still present.”