by Shuler, Tara
At that moment, Richard wrapped his strong arms around her and whispered into her ear, “Esla, I think I love you.”
Instantly, Esla was ripped away from the moment and transported into another. She watched in horror as Balthazar infiltrated The Manor with a mob of angry villagers. They stormed through the house with stakes while everyone was sleeping, and after everyone else was dead, they burst into Illyan’s chamber and cornered him. The stake plunged into his heart, and he slumped to the floor – dead.
Esla was jerked from her trance in terror. She gasped aloud, and frantically looked around, trying to get her bearings. She looked down and saw Richard staring up at her, completely confounded.
“Richard, I have to go back!” she gasped. “My vision changed!”
“What?” he questioned. “They’ll kill you!”
“I have to go back!” she repeated.
She jumped to her feet and hurriedly began to get dressed. Richard stood up and grabbed her, pleading with her not to go. His strong hands gripped her shoulders, and he stared intensely into her glowing green eyes.
“Please, Esla. They’ll kill you! You can’t go back there!” he begged.
“Richard, I have to. They’re going to kill everyone at The Manor! I’m sorry, Richard. I have to go!” she shouted.
He stood up and frantically started to put on his clothes.
“I’m coming with you,” he said, his voice full of panic.
“No, Richard, you can’t go. They’ll be after you, too,” she said.
“I’m not letting you go by yourself!” he insisted.
“Well, I’m not putting you in harm’s way!” Esla yelled at him.
“That’s not your decision, Esla!” Richard told her. “Besides, you’ll be a sitting duck on foot.”
“I’m faster than you think,” she snapped.
“I’m sure you are, but you’ll never make it back before sunup. And when the sun comes up, you’ll be weak, a target. They’ll kill you!” he said.
“Perhaps, but I have to do this. They’re going to kill everyone. I saw it,” she said to him.
“Then I’m coming with you. If we leave now, we might make it back before daylight.”
The two of them threw dirt on the fire to smother it, and then they both climbed back into the wagon for the long trip back to town. It was almost dawn when they finally made it to The Manor. No one had seen them in town, and they felt very fortunate. But as they neared The Manor, they knew why.
At the bottom of the hill, a group was gathering. Dozens of wagons were gathered, and there amongst them was the fancy automobile of a rich man. It had to be Balthazar. No one else in the area was wealthy enough to afford a car or the rare and precious fuel to run it.
They drove around to the back of The Manor, using the back road that only Illyan and his followers knew of. The sun was coming up now, and it was very uncomfortable for Esla. She and Richard jumped out of the wagon. Richard grabbed his rifle, and they both headed through the back door.
They were too late. The men had already knocked down the front door. She heard their voices as they headed up the stairwell toward the bedrooms. It was still early, and most of them should still be awake. A lot of them would stay awake until at least noon, so maybe some of them would be able to defend themselves or warn the others.
“Oh, Richard!” she whispered. “They’re going to kill everyone!”
“Is there a back way upstairs?” Richard asked her quietly.
“Yes,” she answered. “If you go through that door into the courtyard, there is another door. Go through that into the Throne Room and there’s a stairwell that will take you up to the chambers.”
“Aren’t you coming?” he asked.
“Yes, but I’m going the other way,” she replied, turning toward the stairs.
“What? That’s suicide!” he said, grabbing her arm.
“Richard, please. I have to do this. I’m losing time!”
Her eyes pleaded with him, and he loosened his grip. She started to go again, and he grabbed her, planting one final kiss on her lips. She paused briefly, and then turned toward the stairs, running as fast as she could go.
Richard headed through the courtyard and burst into the Throne Room. He flew up the stairs and encountered a mob of men with blood-covered stakes exiting many of the rooms on the corridor. They paused at the sight of his rifle, and he pointed it at them in a warning. They all dropped their stakes, but the telltale blood told him he was too late.
Where was Esla? Was he too late to save her, too?
Esla finally arrived at Illyan’s chamber. The door was open. Her stomach began to churn in terror. She was too late!
She entered the room, and Balthazar was inching toward Illyan with the stake. He grabbed the curtains and tore them open, flooding the room with sunlight. She watched in horror as Illyan recoiled in pain. He was so much more sensitive to sunlight than she was. Balthazar raised the stake above his head, and Illyan weakly tried to stand.
“Illyan!” Esla screamed, running toward Balthazar with the intent of sinking her fangs deep into his neck.
The picture of her family dying at the hands of this ruthless murder came flooding back, and it melded with the visions she’d had of Balthazar staking Illyan. As she neared him, she leaped forward just as he was turning toward the sound of her scream.
Esla suddenly felt a searing pain. She gasped, unable to speak. For a moment, she was confused. Then her hand absently reached toward the source of the pain, and it closed around the wooden stake that had pierced her heart. She felt the cold wetness of her vampire blood soaking her hand.
Balthazar released the stake, stepping backward. He was also confused. Everything had happened so fast, he wasn’t sure what had just transpired.
Esla wrapped her hands around the stake and tried to pull it from her chest, but she was too weak. The sunlight and the stake had sapped all of her strength. She looked toward Illyan, who was still hiding in the shadows in the corner. She reached her hand toward him, and blood began to spill from her mouth. She gurgled.
Weakly, she took one step toward Illyan, still reaching her hand out to him. She fell to her knees. She knew she could not make it to him, and this was her last chance to say what she’d always meant to say and never had the courage to.
“I love you,” she whispered.
She coughed, and sputtered, and blood spewed from her mouth as she fell forward, the wooden stake sinking through her body and peeking out the other side. She was dead.
Richard walked into the room just as her limp, lifeless body slumped forward.
“Esla!” he shouted, raising his rifle.
Enraged, he fired his gun at Balthazar, who was thrown backward out the window, plunging to his death in the river below.
Richard saw Illyan still hiding from the sunlight, and he immediately ran to the window and closed the curtains. Illyan struggled to crawl to Esla’s body. Richard went to him and helped him to his feet, and together they went to her. They both collapsed beside her body, and Illyan brought her lifeless torso to him and he wept. He rocked back and forth, holding her limp little body in his arms, and he wept with all the passion of any human.
Ellen and Ayis had finished off the angry mob after Richard had disarmed them, and they appeared in the doorway. Upon seeing Esla’s body, Ellen screamed and fell to the floor sobbing. Ayis watched in horror as Illyan dissolved into tears, holding Esla close, his face buried in her red hair.
It was in that moment that Illyan realized what he’d been feeling all along. He thought he needed her gift, but he really needed her. He’d dismissed every fleeting sign of emotion as some sort of brief weakness, or even as his need to have her gift. But now he realized what he’d felt all along. He loved her.
Now she was gone, and he’d never been able to tell her. She had saved his life not once, but twice. She sacrificed herself for him. She had loved him with her whole heart, and he’d given her nothing but scorn in return.
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br /> The pain was so intense he could not bear it. He’d never allowed himself to feel human emotions. Since the first night he was turned, he had let go of all human emotion and never looked back. It made this pain all the more unbearable, because it was something he had never felt before. He’d never even felt this much emotion when he was human.
He reached down and wrapped his hand around the bit of stake that still protruded from her limp body. He pulled it slowly from her chest, and the last bit of her blood spilled forth onto the floor.
As he held her and mourned her loss, he felt more determined than ever to win this war and destroy humanity. He looked out into the hallway and those of his Followers who survived were watching the scene in utter confusion. Then he noticed Richard, who was stroking Esla’s hair and sobbing.
Richard looked up at Illyan, and Illyan recognized the look in Richard’s eyes. Richard wanted to avenge her death as much as he did.
“Humans did this to her,” Illyan said, his eyes narrow with fury.
Richard nodded. He had lost all connection to the human race. He wanted nothing more than to avenge the death of Esla.
“Are you with us?” Illyan asked.
“Absolutely,” Richard said, his voice laced with a note of revenge.
And so it began. Esla’s death had sealed the fate of the human race. Now nothing, not even the Twelve Clans, could stop the coming war. In that moment, Illyan decided that the human was nothing but a scourge upon the planet, and they must be expunged.
And in Richard, he’d found his most powerful ally – a direct link into the minds of the humans, and a man who would stop at nothing to avenge the death of the woman he loved.
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The next installment of the Blood War Chronicles series is coming soon!
Find out how Illyan and Richard lead the war against Heaven and Hell, and whether the Earth and humans will survive.
Don’t forget to stop by http://www.TaraShuler.com for more information about Tara and her other books!
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