“They’re surrounding us,” he said, standing beside me with a weapon in each hand. “Six at the front door, another dozen coming in through the windows.”
“They’re already in the room with Jabari,” I told him. I couldn’t sense the naturi, but I could see them through Sadira’s eyes. Fear had ramped up her powers and in turn strengthened our natural connection. There was a strong link between us after I had taken in so much of her blood last night. We could share thoughts and emotions with no effort. We could also see and feel things each other felt, introducing a potentially dangerous distraction into the mix.
“Gabriel, you’re in with Jabari and Sadira. Keep them alive no matter what,” I shouted. “Michael, you’ve got my back.” I didn’t look at them, but kept my eyes trained on the door. Their footsteps echoed down the hall as each took up their new positions. Their fear filled the air, teasing me with its thick, heady scent. There was nothing that could excite the senses of a vampire faster. Except maybe the scent of fresh blood and a woman’s silence-shattering scream, but that was on the hunt.
Twisting my right wrist once, I impatiently slashed the air with Danaus’s sword. I was eager to start this dance at last. It was my turn to lead.
As if in an attempt to be courteous of my wishes, the doors exploded open. I have to give them their due. Where Jabari had thrown them open, the naturi blew them completely off their hinges. Both large oak doors flew through the air, spinning like an out-of-control windmill. I dove sideways, knocking Danaus to the floor. As I fell, I grabbed the front of Michael’s shirt with my free hand, pulling him down with us in a large heap. I rolled off Danaus, careful that the dagger and sword he held didn’t accidentally relieve me of my head.
Behind me, arrows whizzed through the open doorway and thunked heavily into the wooden staircase. They were trying to clear the entrance. I was on my feet when I felt a shift in the wind.
A loud cacophony of noise filled the air, a grating mix of wings, claws, and calls. Raptors of all shapes and sizes filled the large entryway, making it suddenly seem small. We remained trapped on our knees against the wall as ravens, owls, hawks, and falcons flew through the halls, heading up the staircase and then back down again. Few bothered to attack us, but that wasn’t their goal. The naturi had sent the birds in as a distraction to buy them some time.
Michael lifted his gun and squeezed off a couple of rounds, picking off a couple of the larger birds when they got too close. I covered his wrist with my hand and forced him to lower the gun.
“Don’t waste your ammunition,” I shouted over the noise. I jerked my head to the side as a brown owl dove close enough to drag its long talons across my cheek. Pain slashed through me and I fought the urge to press my hand to my cheek. If I lifted my arm, I’d only end up with a series of scratches.
“Mira, we can’t stay like this!” Danaus snapped.
With a growl, I grabbed a vase off a nearby pedestal and threw it across the room toward the largest clump of birds as they fought for space in the air. The porcelain shattered on impact with the chandelier, sending it wildly swinging overhead. Shadows lunged and stretched in a gruesome dance around the room. Several birds were knocked from the air, hitting the hardwood floor with a heavy thud.
As the birds scattered, I lifted my left hand and focused on anything that was flying. Feathers instantly caught on fire, filling the room with a horrid stench. I killed only a few, though I wished I hadn’t been forced to kill any of them, but it was enough to clear the air. The birds of prey scattered, with some heading out the open door while others flew up to find sanctuary on the third floor.
With the birds preoccupied, I turned my attention back to the entryway in time to see a naturi edge forward, his wrist crossbow aimed at me. In a single, liquid movement I pulled a knife from Danaus’s belt and flung it at my adversary. The blade buried itself in his throat and nearly severed his head. He fell backward, the shaft firing harmlessly up at the ceiling. The dead naturi from the animal clan disappeared into the dark doorway, out of sight.
“Come out and play, blood drinker,” sang a melodious voice outside the door.
“You come in. I’ll reunite you with your brother, Nerian,” I replied, tightening my grip on the sword. Some part of me was relieved to find that it wasn’t Rowe once again calling out to me.
To my surprise, the naturi stepped into the doorway, short sword drawn. Danaus raised his gun, but I put a restraining hand over the top of the weapon. “Take care of our other guests, and cover my back,” I said, motioning with my head toward the opposite end of the hall and the back door as I rose to my feet. The telltale sound of claws clicking across hardwood indicated that several wolves had found their way into the manor. Danaus and Michael had their own set of problems while I took care of the naturi in the doorway.
Barely topping five feet, he looked like a slender youth, more akin to a young willow than the human he was supposed to resemble. His long blond hair was pulled back, revealing a face similar to that of a fifteen-year-old boy, with its fresh sprinkling of freckles and wide green eyes. But his appearance belied the years of experience that hummed through his thin frame and filled his narrowed eyes.
“I thought we’d see Nerian together. I understand he had some special plans for you.” A malicious grin split his young face. A chill crawled up my skin, sinking sharp fangs into my muscles. He was from the light clan, I had no doubt. Neither us could summon fire to destroy the other.
Closing the distance between us, I swung my sword with enough force to cleave his body in two. He sidestepped the blow for the most part, and deflected what he couldn’t escape with his blade. He was quicker than most naturi I had encountered so far, each movement precise and fluid like a dance. Was he another form of Danaus? A creature that had studied the fine art of hunting nightwalkers?
The chaos around me dulled and the sounds trickled into my ears now as if enveloped in cotton. There was only the naturi standing before me in a pair of worn blue jeans with the left knee torn out. Hatred burned in his almond-shaped eyes.
Our swords scraped and clanged, searching for an entrance into the soft, meaty parts of the body. Dodging a thrust aimed to place his blade between my ribs, I brought my own sword down. He backpedaled, moving smoothly out of danger. With teeth clenched, I tossed my head, moving a lock of hair from where it had fallen in front of my eyes. The creature tried to use the momentary distraction to his advantage, slashing at my stomach. I was ready, catching his blade with mine and pushing him back toward the opposite wall.
I screamed. A searing pain splintered throughout my left shoulder, like someone had shoved a red-hot knitting needle into it. Someone had put a naturi dart in my shoulder. The pain slithered under my shoulder blade, slinking down through my muscles like liquid fire. I barely managed to block the naturi’s next two attacks as my mind struggled through the fog of pain.
“Danaus!” I shouted, kicking my blond adversary back against the front doorjamb.
“We’re being overrun from the back!” His deep voice boomed over the sound of singing steel and breaking furniture. “Hurry up!”
“Fine,” I growled to myself. My left arm was starting to go numb and was nearly useless. I couldn’t close my left fingers around a weapon if I had to.
“You look tired,” the naturi mocked. “Want a drink?” He tilted his head to expose the long line of his throat. I feinted with my sword for his neck, then abruptly switched directions and plunged the blade into his heart up to the hilt.
“I’m not into junk food,” I said as I slowly withdrew the blade and slashed it through the air, removing his head from his neck. The unattached member bounced and rolled away, his wide, gemlike eyes staring up at the ceiling, lost and unfocused. “Tell Nerian I said hi.”
Spinning around, I found my companions barely holding a mix of naturi and wolves at bay at the opposite end of the hall. Inside the salon that held Sadira and the others, I could still hear the constant crash of furniture and gunfire. Sadira’s thought
s were muffled but her fear was still riding high. However, that was matched by anger, which was encouraging. Sometimes the only thing that kept you moving was raw anger and hatred.
Gritting my teeth, I lifted my left arm. A low groan broke from my throat as the pain threatened to overcome my fragmented thoughts. I ignored it as best as I could and focused on a collection of creatures drawing closer to Michael and Danaus. It took only a couple of seconds for each one to explode in a glorious ball of fire. Only when they thumped lifelessly to the floor did I finally extinguish the flames. I’d taken an ugly risk using my powers. If I used them too often, it would leave me exhausted and vulnerable. Not a good combination when battling the naturi, particularly since I wasn’t at full strength before this battle even started.
My left arm dropped back down to my side and I swayed on my feet. I opened my mouth to ask for a naturi count from Danaus when Michael rushed toward me. Stunned, I didn’t think to move when he turned his shoulder into my chest and sent me back toward the open entryway. I stumbled over the body of the naturi I’d killed moments ago and landed hard on my butt. My left hand fell in a cool, wet spot on the Oriental rug. Glancing down, I discovered I was sitting in a spreading pool of blood that was leaking from the dead naturi. I frantically wiped it on my shirt and pants, desperate to be clean of the stuff. I imagine there is truly no stranger sight than a vampire wiping blood off like it carried the plague.
With fangs bared, I tore my gaze from the blood back to Michael, a vicious curse on the tip of my tongue, when I instantly stilled. He stood over me, his face slack. His blue eyes were staring blindly at some distant point I could not see. Something cold slipped down into my bones and knotted in my throat. A small, damp spot in the middle of his chest was growing by the second across his shirt while his skin paled to a gut-wrenching gray.
Behind him I heard the soft, liquid squish and suck of a blade being pulled from muscle and flesh. I noticed then that the door to the first room off the hall was open, when all the doors had been closed moments before.
I lurched forward on my knees, catching Michael’s limp form as he fell forward. Lowering him to the ground, my eyes never wavered from my angel’s pale face. Beside me, I felt more than saw Danaus attack the one that had stabbed my guardian. With a trembling hand, I smoothed his golden locks from his forehead, inadvertently smearing some of the naturi’s blood across his perfect skin.
Michael’s eyes drooped closed and his full lips briefly formed my name.
“Sleep, my angel,” I whispered, my voice as rough as concrete. I bent down and pressed my parted lips to his. “You’ve done well.”
The tension and lines slowly disappeared from his handsome face, as if time was kindly erasing some of the wear and tear he had suffered through his long years. He was moving away from the pain and the fear. Peace was settling inside him.
Something inside of me screamed in pain. I should have sent him home. I should have never included him in my life. Michael was a breath of fresh air. He had glowed with light and vitality, and I’d seen to its destruction.
Holding him, I could feel the life draining from his body, his heart slowing to a thick, torpid beat. His soul was pulling loose of its bonds, struggling to be free. I couldn’t heal him. With all my power and abilities, I couldn’t heal the human body beyond the closing of puncture wounds from my fangs. The best I could do was try to turn him into a nightwalker, but I wouldn’t. His soul wanted to be free like a kite on a string. I knew I had to let him go no matter how badly I needed him to stay.
Twenty-Seven
The pain in my left arm was gone. I stood without actually using my muscles. I just pushed out with my powers until I was lifted to my feet. Around me the sounds of battle dimmed and the world faded. Time ground to a crawl, edging along the floorboards like a multilegged insect. I paused long enough to grab both of Michael’s guns and my sword. Tucking one gun in my pants at the hollow of my back, I kept the other in my left hand while the sword remained tightly clutched in my right hand.
To say that I was angry would have been an understatement. I wanted to send a wall of fire through the entire building, cleansing it of every moving creature, breathing or not. Michael was gone and I wanted a gallon of naturi blood for every drop spilled of his. I wanted them dead.
Striding into the front parlor, I paused long enough to assess the scene. Furniture had been overturned and the lighting was dim as one small lamp in the far corner fought back the darkness. Danaus battled two naturi at once, a scimitar in one hand and a short sword in the other. A flicker of light danced across the steel that had yet to be smeared with blood. Three more naturi stood near the window where they had come in, watching the show. I would have normally let Danaus have his fun, but I just wanted them dead. One of them had killed Michael.
Stepping forward, I lifted the gun toward Danaus’s assailants. Without hesitation, I squeezed off several rounds, putting one into the forehead of each naturi before they could turn on me. The recoil sent a shock wave up my arm and I hissed in pain, but it didn’t slow me as I swung around and fired the last three rounds at the remaining naturi. Only one found its mark, briefly pinning the brown-haired creature to the blood-splattered wall before he slid to the floor.
Out of bullets, I pitched the gun at the closest naturi, shattering his nose and left cheekbone. He screamed and stumbled backward, holding his face. I closed the distance, rage bubbling in my veins. His companion stepped forward to protect him, and I left his head rocking on the floor seconds later.
The wounded elflike creature lashed out, swinging his sword wildly, half blinded by the pain. In a flash of movement I was standing behind the creature. I grabbed a fistful of brown hair and jerked his head back before running my blade across his throat. I was careful to slice the main arteries and open his windpipe. It’s a subtle art; something learned through years of torture and death. If I had left him like that, he might have drowned in his own blood. Unfortunately, I wasn’t sure how quickly he would heal so I lopped off both his hands. I didn’t want him coming back to stab me later. This way he would at least bleed to death. He would suffer awhile longer than if I’d just decapitated him like his companion. I wanted his death to be a slow one.
Danaus grabbed my right arm as I started to leave the room, halting my progress. “He’s not dead,” the hunter growled. His hand bit into my flesh while his powers beat angrily against me.
“He will be.” Danaus didn’t release me, his gaze burning into my cold eyes. I knew what he wanted. He didn’t believe in torture. “Remember, they did far worse to me. At least he knows he’s going to die. I had no such guarantee.” I wrenched my arm free of his grasp and continued to the hall.
I was relieved to see he followed directly behind me instead of ending the naturi’s suffering. Maybe he knew this wasn’t the best time to cross me. I paused in the hall, careful not to look down at Michael’s cold body. Instead I gazed up the hall to find three more naturi heading toward the room holding Jabari and the others, looking to attack the small group from behind. I pulled the second and last gun from my pants and plowed through the three that were now coming after me.
“Are there any more coming?” I stepped on the body of the nearest naturi, indifferent as to whether he was dead yet, as I walked toward the closed door.
“Yes, but we have a couple of minutes,” Danaus said, following close behind me. “The last of them are in with the others.”
I shoved open the door and for a second my confidence slipped several notches. The room looked like a cyclone had blown through. All the furniture had been destroyed. Exquisite landscapes were ripped off the walls, their heavy frames used as weapons. The walls were pockmarked with bullets and gaping holes created by flying bodies. Corpses littered the floor, broken and torn.
Sadira stood in one corner with a wounded Tristan behind her. One of the legs of the chair she’d been sitting in was tightly clenched in her fist and her fangs were bared. Other than the fangs, she still di
dn’t look like a vampire, just a mother protecting her child. Of course, we’re talking a half-crazed, bloodthirsty mother with her blood-splashed yellow shirt sticking to her thin frame and dark hair flowing down her back.
My Gabriel still stood strong beside her, a knife in one hand and a naturi short sword in the other. I didn’t want to contemplate how long he had been without ammo. His right shoulder and left thigh were bleeding, but he didn’t waver, so I hoped the wounds were superficial. I couldn’t lose him too.
And in the eye of the storm stood Jabari. His energy pulsed in violent waves through the room. At least a dozen bodies circled him, torn apart in various ways. The nightwalker stood empty-handed, covered in the blood of his enemies. Jabari didn’t use a sword or knife. He preferred to take apart his enemies with his bare hands. It was a lost art.
Watching him face down the five naturi that currently circled him, I remembered why I had always loved him. I loved his strength and his power. I loved that I only felt anger radiating from him, no fear, no doubt, no indecision. With little effort and no hesitation, Jabari pulled the heart from a naturi’s chest. He tossed the two objects carelessly aside and moved onto his next prey.
And deep down I knew I was standing in that line, no matter what happened from here on out.
“Shall we?” I said, looking over at Danaus as I tried gauge the best place to enter the fray. Relieving Sadira and Gabriel would probably be the wisest place to start. Jabari was doing fine on his own.
“After you,” Danaus said, motioning for me to precede him. I was beginning to think he was enjoying himself. He was splattered with blood and a line of sweat ran from his temple to his hard jaw. His narrowed eyes were keenly focused on the naturi in the room, weighing their skills. But there was also a glitter of amusement there, soaking in the thrill of the battle and the rush of adrenaline. At that moment, Danaus was more of a predator than the naturi could ever be. He was a dark stalker riding the wave of blood and death, his human side obliterated.
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