Night's Kiss (The Ancients)

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Night's Kiss (The Ancients) Page 27

by Mary Hughes


  “You’re doing what you do. I’m doing what I do.” Her mutinous glare made me want to shriek.

  Out-stubborn a rock? My sister was the first result when googling single-minded badass.

  “Enough,” Strigorul roared. “You will give me what I want, or I’ll kill this human.”

  “You’re the boss, Strigorul.” Ryker lifted his palms in a conciliatory gesture, Hostage-Taking 101. “What do you want?”

  “What do I want, hmm.” The Destroyer’s smile was all fangs. “What do you think I want?” He was taunting us, dialing up the fear.

  Fury blazed inside me instead. Those sicko vampires who ate up their prey’s pain and fear? Strigorul was the prototype. I’d absorbed that as a child without even realizing it.

  I was utterly done with his games. “You want Elias,” I spat. “Just say it.”

  He slashed me a glare, pure hatred. “Where is he?”

  “Where you’ll never get to him,” Logan drawled.

  “His stronghold in Iowa? Ah, well, he’ll have to come out sometime. Meanwhile, I’ll simply have to find another way to enjoy myself—with her.” He grinned maliciously down at Rey. His skull faceplate made it as grisly as death. “Again.”

  “No!” The word tore through my thickened throat. I managed a panted, “There must be something else you want.”

  He cocked his head. “Perhaps. That extraordinary weapon you possessed before. The one that destroyed him.” He briefly cut eyes toward Ryker. “Or nearly destroyed him. Have you another?”

  Good fuck. He thought the blade possessed the vampire dissolving power. He doesn’t know about the serum.

  Logan still had a chance.

  I nearly shouted of course, nearly overplayed it.

  The instant before I did and ruined the whole thing, Ryker gave a tiny startle, drawing the Destroyer’s attention.

  The king twitched a horrified glance at Joyce in my hand, her blade red with blood.

  Strigorul followed his gaze and actually chortled. “Aha. That will do. Girl. Bring me your sword.”

  “M-me?” Well, this was an awful turn of events. Bring him Joyce? The moment I got close to him, he’d grab Joyce, or more likely, Joyce and me.

  What he’d threatened to do to Rey, he’d do to me. As sadistic as he was, I’d suffer a lot before I died.

  On the plus side, he couldn’t hold both Rey and me. Only one.

  Me, or Rey?

  “I’m getting tired of waiting.” His hand tightened around her throat. Though she turtled her neck, her face became alarmingly red.

  “Fine! I’m coming.” I crept toward him, letting every bit of my revulsion show. My heart beat a fast, scared beat, my breath rasped in my ears. I’d faced death every night, but on my own terms, with the fire of combat in my blood. This was him stripping the choice from me.

  I’d die, not as an instrument of revenge, but as a victim.

  Me or Rey.

  I crept nearer, pain slicing me at the tears in my sister’s eyes.

  Rey, hugging first-grade me after bullies scared me. Rey, bringing me ice cream after my first breakup. My love for her tore at my heart. My sister had always been there for me.

  How could I choose to repay that with anything other than my life for hers?

  My gaze switched to Ryker. His red eyes were steady on me. We’d had so little time together. I’d promised him I wouldn’t leave him. He might not love me, yet he needed me. It had nearly cost him his life to admit it.

  How could I choose to honor that with anything other than staying alive?

  Me or my sister.

  Ryker nodded, that same mysterious, out-of-time sensation joining us. A single red tear threaded down his cheek. He knew how I’d decide.

  I stopped inches outside Strigorul’s kill zone and offered Joyce. “Let Rey go.”

  The Destroyer smirked. “Of course.” He released my sister with a nasty little shove.

  As the monster tugged Joyce from my hand, Rey stumbled into my arms. I automatically caught her.

  In the corner of my eye, Ryker blew into mist, coming to complete the mission.

  Leaving that single red tear falling to the ground.

  The Destroyer tossed Joyce one-handed to a silver-badged underling—and his other arm clamped around my back.

  I smashed into Rey—no, the Destroyer had smashed us both into his chest, arm wrapped around us, so that our limbs were useless. His freed hand crooked around my nape. With the right amount of pressure, he could snap my spine.

  Or, if he snapped hard enough, he’d crack both our necks.

  “Halt!” the Destroyer snarled. “Or they both die.”

  Ryker collapsed solid several feet short of us.

  The Alliance vampires froze, Logan out in front.

  “You…” I couldn’t get the words out, the very concept so appalling it choked me almost as much as his arm. “You were supposed to let her go!”

  Rage exploded from me into a flurry of struggling with everything I had against the murderous bastard, flailing with the limited range I had with my hands and forearms. Having Rey between us meant I couldn’t kick or bite. He’d done it on purpose. I could’ve pulled my Glock from Rey’s jacket, though its ruby-serum-coated bullets wouldn’t kill him. And frankly, I’d forgotten it, sick that I’d been both outgunned and outsmarted.

  “I did let her go. I simply took her again, as I take everything I want.”

  “Not…everything.” A new voice came from beside Adelaide’s Heart, achingly deep.

  I couldn’t see who the speaker was, but add in a metric shit-ton of determination, and the voice sounded like…

  “Elias,” Strigorul whispered. “At last.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “It’s me you really want, isn’t it?” Elias shuffled into view. He was still aged and sick, yet there was a strength, a steely will, in his black eyes. “But you don’t have me.”

  “Yet.” Strigorul’s face lit with greed. “Come to me, and I’ll let these humans go.”

  “He’ll double-cross you,” I shouted, joining with my sister’s, “He’s a bad man, Greyson.”

  Logan rushed to Elias’s side, hand gripping his arm. “Master, no.”

  “I may be sick, but I’m not stupid.” Elias patted Logan’s hand.

  “Or don’t come to me. It matters not.” Strigorul chuckled. “I have merely to send my shadow warriors after you. Though I won’t free your little humans then.”

  “Damn it, Greyson,” Rey wailed. “Why did you come here?”

  He shook his silver-threaded black head, a half smile on his face. “Once I figured out what you were doing? I had to come. I’ll never let you go into danger alone, Rey, especially not for me.”

  “How noble,” Strigorul drawled. “Come here before I kill her.”

  Elias’s face paled. “All right, all right. Here I come.”

  “Master.” Logan’s hand tightened on Elias’s arm. “The van? Liese…?”

  “They’re fine.” He patted his lieutenant’s hand reassuringly. “Pleading the need for a bathroom, I left them at a gas station.”

  “Enough!” Strigorul’s arm pressed on my neck until the bones creaked. Rey squeaked. “Come. Here.”

  “I’m coming.” Elias shuffled toward us, muttering something that sounded strangely like shit-for-brains.

  Ryker stepped into his path. “Kai. You don’t want to do this. The alal will take you to the Shadow Lord—who will drain you, again and again, until you’re dead.”

  Elias stopped. As if he was the one a foot taller, he took Ryker’s face in his hands. Black eyes met black in a gaze almost as intense and deep as the one Ryker and I had shared. “You’ll have to step into my shoes, then.”

  Ryker startled.

  Elias wrapped his arms around my king. Af
ter a moment’s hesitation, Ryker did the same, and the two males hugged in that odd way some men have, clapping each other on the back while they rocked around in circles on their feet.

  Strigorul spat. “You behave like old women, not proud ancients. After the Shadow Lord drains Elias, I will enjoy coming back for Enkidu. Now. Elias. Come here.”

  They separated, and Elias resumed his trek toward Strigorul.

  Toward his fate, more horrific than death.

  My heart broke, seeing Elias shuffle toward us. Everything we’d worked for was gone.

  We’d lost.

  And as Elias approached…he looked at us, significantly. Trying to catch my eye.

  Mine, not Rey’s. And he…

  He raised one caustic eyebrow.

  I blinked. What the actual fuck…?

  Thin Officer Keydew, imploding into dust then expanding like a star gone nova…

  That was not Elias.

  My heart beat faster. Somehow, when they’d hugged, the two ancient vampires had switched places. The sucker heading back toward Logan was Elias.

  This vampire coming toward me was Ryker.

  An idea sprang into my head. He’d have to trust me with his life…but we had one play. I started it, clutching Rey as if frightened. In reality, I was easing the UV flashlight from her pocket. It had limited uses—if you hit a vampire’s mist, it would set him on fire.

  Or if you managed, despite his preternatural speed, to shine it in his eyes, it would temporarily blind him.

  This close, with Strigorul gloating at Ryker-as-Elias, and not focused on me, I had a chance.

  I caught Ryker-as-Elias’s eye. Ready?

  He gave me the signal.

  Flicking on the flashlight, I brought my hand up as far as it would go.

  The beam bounced into Strigorul’s face. The Destroyer roared in pain. I hoped he’d flail in despair and confusion, maybe accidentally release us.

  He threw us both straight at Ryker-as-Elias.

  But he’d already misted.

  Less than a second had elapsed, yet even milliseconds count in a fight. As I stumbled back, leaving my stomach three feet away, Ryker dropped the form of Elias, popping solid in front of us as himself, his talons driving into the Destroyer’s neck.

  “You’re not…” Strigorul began.

  Ryker tore a huge chunk out of his throat.

  The Destroyer howled in rage and pain, hands clasping his violated neck, falling a step back.

  Recovering before me, Rey caught me and steadied me with a hug, then got out of the way.

  Ryker jerked the small vial of liquid gold from his pants pocket.

  WTF? I’d thought Logan had that.

  He sucked the contents of the bottle into the dropper, all three drops of it, then tossed the vial away. Grabbing one of Strigorul’s wrists, my king yanked the Destroyer’s hand away from his neck, swinging the dropper into position. He squeezed.

  The Destroyer slapped at Ryker’s hand. The drop spattered onto the pavement.

  Ryker tried again. Strigorul twisted away. The second drop fell harmlessly onto his vest.

  And his wound was closing.

  I had to do something. Shredder was gone. Joyce was gone. I grabbed my butterfly daggers and prepared to hack at the damned Destroyer until we were both in pieces.

  “Kat! Trust me?” Ryker spun, his red gaze meeting mine. “Give me your hand. No weapons.”

  I gaped at him, appalled. Without a weapon, what could I do? The old Kat would’ve been sure this was a double-cross.

  But I’d kissed this vampire, had comforted him and been comforted by him.

  I’d seen into his soul.

  I sheathed Sam and Dean.

  The moment I did, Ryker seized my left hand with his right, the dropper in his left hand now. Using our joined hands, he swung me away from Strigorul.

  Doubt chipped into my resolution. Still, as he whipped me in a circle, I kept my focus on Strigorul, Ryker in my periphery. Trusting my king.

  Holding the dropper against his palm with his thumb, Ryker dug the claws of his left hand into the front of the Destroyer’s vest—and yanked down. The Destroyer hammered at Ryker’s arm with a sweeping block up, pulling away at the same time.

  My arc took me briefly behind the king.

  When I emerged again, Ryker’s talons were coming out of the vest, as if the Destroyer had knocked them away.

  But in reality, my king was releasing him.

  And oddly, now, when I should have trusted him least, I put my entire faith in him. He had a plan. I was certain.

  “Kat,” he bellowed. “Up.”

  He spun as I came in. But not just in. Still pulling strongly on my arm, he completed his spin and tugged sharply up.

  I’d already begun my step on air, leaping with the strongest muscles in my legs.

  Because when Ryker had yanked forward and down on the Destroyer’s vest, Strigorul automatically countered the attack by pulling in the opposite direction. The moment Ryker released the vest, without a compensating force, the Destroyer stumbled back, head rising.

  Leaving his neck open.

  My heart burst in joy, my trust rewarded.

  I rose in the air, my heartbeats ticking by in slow motion. If the Destroyer saw me coming…

  Strigorul kept his eyes on Ryker, though, never believing for an instant that a mere human could be the more dangerous.

  Ryker tossed the dropper into the air in front of me.

  Then, to ensure he kept the Destroyer’s attention, my king released me to chest-butt our enemy.

  Maybe if Strigorul had known what was in the dropper, he would’ve picked it instead of Ryker as the greater threat. Maybe if his attention hadn’t been tunneled on my king, he’d have countered our ploy. Maybe if Ryker’s butt hadn’t seemed sloppy, the product of a blind rage, he would’ve misted away instead of being quick to take advantage of it.

  The Destroyer grinned, his throat almost healed, and grew half-foot talons as I reached the zenith of my leap.

  If Ryker and I had been milliseconds off, we couldn’t have done it. Or if either of us tried to do the whole job, we wouldn’t have pulled it off.

  But mutual trust was the oil to our teamwork, and love was our unifying force.

  In the breath between one heartbeat and the next, I struck.

  I snatched the dropper out of the air and squirted the last drop into the closing wound on Strigorul’s neck.

  The liquid gold rocketed straight onto his raw flesh.

  Too late, you bastard.

  And then I was coming down, falling.

  Helpless when Strigorul swiped his talons through Ryker’s neck.

  Severing his head from his body.

  Too late, Kat.

  All strength deserted my muscles. I fell to my hands and knees. Ryker’s body fell to its knees beside me. Blood spurted a bare instant before the skin automatically sealed itself.

  The Destroyer snatched up Ryker’s head by the hair and raised it above his head. “We have won!”

  His shadow vamps cheered. I was sick.

  “Mop up the resistance,” Strigorul shouted. “And secure both ancients.”

  The Alliance’s pitiful forces threw themselves around Elias—the real Elias—and my sister. The clangs and snarls of fighting began.

  I clenched hot, wet eyes.

  Our side hadn’t lost. It was only a matter of time before the serum destroyed Strigorul.

  But in that time, the shadow corps would box up Ryker to travel, aware and frightened, to Umbra. He’d have his life stolen from him, a sip at a time.

  And neither of us could stop it.

  I’d never see Ryker again. Never discover if his need was something more. Never find the joy of love, only the sorrow.

 
; We hadn’t lost.

  But I have.

  For the first time, my rage wasn’t enough to combat the bleak cold inside. Strigorul’s triumphant grin faltered, replaced by an expression of confusion and dawning fear, but it came too late.

  A silver-badged tough grabbed Ryker’s body.

  “No!” I screamed, staggering to my feet to grab the sucker’s arm. “You take him, you take me, too.” I don’t know what I meant to accomplish. I only knew I couldn’t let Ryker go into that hell alone.

  The silver-badge threw Ryker’s body over his shoulder and grabbed my wrist. His gaze on me was greedy, and I could practically read his thoughts. The Locotenent al Umbrei who captures the ancient will receive the blood rite of advancement from Lordul Umbrei himself. Plus, I get this nifty girl toy as a bonus.

  I’d fight him and I’d kick his ass—just as soon as I got beyond this numb misery.

  The squeal of tires lifted his gaze from mine. I was almost too exhausted to see what new disaster had arrived.

  A van skidded toward us.

  The Alliance van.

  Its doors shooped open as it squealed to a halt, its headlights lighting up the battleground. Alexis, Sandy, Race, and Hattie jumped out while Liese sat at the wheel, a determined expression transforming her milkmaid’s features. This wasn’t the goofy engineer. This was the leader of a Fortune 500 company.

  “Get them out of the way,” she yelled.

  The Alliance lieutenants ferociously slashed and hacked to reach Logan’s group.

  Race macheted his way toward me and the silver-badged shadow vampire. “Unhand my daughter.”

  “Race, no,” I gasped. Human when I was conceived, he was barely more than a vampire toddler. There was no way he could fight a sucker enhanced with ancient blood.

  The goon dropped Ryker’s poor body and snickered. “Or you’ll do what?”

  “This.” My father faked a punch at the shadow vamp’s chin—while unleashing a lightning fast kick to his groin.

  The vamp gasped and bent to clutch himself, releasing me.

  “Steel toe,” my father said to me as he scooped up Ryker’s body. I smiled. Like daughter, like father.

  I snatched Ryker’s head from Strigorul’s quivering hand, barely giving the Destroyer a glance. As I did, Hattie and the rest reached Logan’s group. The moment they freed them, Logan shouted, “Go-go-go!”

 

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