Coldstorm (Heart of a Vampire, Book 7)

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Coldstorm (Heart of a Vampire, Book 7) Page 26

by Amber Kallyn


  Horror clenched tight at Anca's chest.

  A guttural scream filled the room. Leo bellowed in agony, scrambling on his hands and knees across the dais to Luci's feet.

  "She's free now," Eliza said happily, and returned to sit daintily upon her throne. She glanced down, noticed blood on her hand, then began to lick her fingers clean.

  Shock and fury froze Anca in place. She could do nothing but watch the waterfall of crimson pouring from Luci's neck, down chest, pattering in droplets over the floor. Painting her brother in matching rain of red.

  A terrible rage colored Leo's mottled face. Bled into his snapping eyes.

  Anca struggled to get free from the last wisps of the spell.

  Magic brightening, the earth spirits flooded her with their remaining strength, then disappeared.

  The siphoned siren magic broke away.

  Anca flexed her muscles, her entire body once more hers to command. But she didn't move. Not yet.

  No matter how much it hurt to admit, she could no longer save Luci. Right now, she had to watch, see what happened, so she could hopefully save everyone else. Magic laced with hate and the fury of an unleashed storm exploded through the room, washing over Anca with barely leashed violence.

  ***

  Only two enemies remained—a vampire warrior watching Matt close, and the insectile creature who kept trying to reach Robby.

  Matt drew large gulps of oxygen into his aching lungs. Set his stance once more. He bled from cuts on his arms and legs, painful but not serious. It was the deep wound across his cracked and battered ribs that gave him pause.

  The warrior lunged.

  This time Matt was prepared for the sneaky double strike. Instead of connecting, the vampire's razor thin long blade whistled past him. Matt dodged close. Delivered two sharp strikes to his throat.

  The warrior let out a gurgled cry, and tried to swing his sword again.

  Matt didn't give him the opportunity. He spun around the warrior, grabbed the guy's chin, and twisted violently.

  Bone crunched. The vampire fell limp to the ground.

  The insectile creature took the chance to dart in. Claws slashed across Matt's back. Fire flared over his skin. In a duck and spin move, he swept the creature's feet out from under it, then rammed his knee into its gut.

  This one continued to deflect all of Matt's strikes.

  It's spider-like features covered some sort of bony armor, hard as rock. It flung Matt off with a chittering squeal.

  In less than a second it was back on its feet. The creature dashed toward Robby.

  Matt blocked it, throwing it against the rocky wall.

  To no effect. The thing's armored body blocked all his strikes.

  It grabbed Matt and squeezed, trying to break him.

  He shoved his arms up, loosening the hold, then flipped the thing onto the floor. He reached across the creature and grabbed the nearby sword. Raising it over his head two handed, Matt let out a cry. He slammed it down between the creature's chin and collarbone.

  It cut deep, but took four more chops to kill the thing completely. Avoiding the ichor pooling on the ground, Matt searched for more enemies.

  There were none.

  "Robby. Let's go."

  Anca's earth spirit pushed him with a heavy urgency. This fight had taken too much energy.

  Too much time.

  Robby reached his side, eyes wide in his pale face. "Y-you're covered in blood."

  Matt mentally assessed his injuries, worried about the spreading fire across his back. The blood slickly oozing from cuts and scrapes all over his upper body. At the edges of his strength, he found a slow sluggishness waiting to creep in. He didn't have time for such things.

  Hesitation paused his movements when he started to drop the sword. Matt preferred martial arts over weapons. But only an idiot brought a slingshot into a gunfight. He might need the sharp blade later. He gripped the hilt tighter, the feeling long forgotten, but quickly coming back with crystal clarity.

  He raced down the tunnel, Robby at his side, following it's winding route.

  A voice inside Matt screamed at him to go faster.

  Hurry, hurry, hurry, it echoed.

  He'd get to Anca in time.

  He had to.

  Any other option was unthinkable.

  ***

  Leo screamed, an unending keening of dark sorrow. He slowly climbed to his feet. Hesitation slowed his movements. For a long moment, he stared at his sister's pale face, then reached to cup her cheek and place a soft kiss on her forehead.

  Then Leo turned and stared out at the room.

  A shiver slid down Anca's spine.

  The vampire's mind had snapped. Only a furious need for retribution shone in his dark reddened eyes. Thick black lines snaked through his aura, pushing a thrumming, vengeful magic around the dais and throne.

  From somewhere hidden, Leo drew out two wickedly sharp daggers. With mindless anger, he attacked Eliza, slashing her face before she could jump back.

  Oliver bellowed. He ran into the room he'd dragged the wolf from, his steps loudly echoing.

  Anca wouldn't have been surprised to feel the ground shake.

  The giant rushed back out, holding a huge polearm, the thick wooden staff tipped by a deadly sharp blade. The whole monstrous weapon stretched over eight feet long in total. Oliver thundered up the dais toward his Mistress.

  Another magic exploded through the room. The stolen power of the dead siren. This time, it was weak. Anca was prepared.

  She flung it off easy enough.

  Eliza stumbled away from Leo, grinning. Raising her hands, she blasted him with magic.

  He shouted hoarsely. Magic showered over him in unavoidable strikes. Leo fell back and off the dais.

  On the opposite side of the platform, still on the ground, the wolf raised his head to stare at Anca. The silver chain flashed from his bloody neck.

  Ignoring the plea for help, Anca rushed the giant of a vampire before he could regroup with Eliza.

  "Stop running," she shouted.

  Oliver clumsily stopped, the force of his momentum carrying him a few more feet.

  She crossed the distance and ducked beneath his swinging polearm. Pouring power into her saif, Anca slashed the blade across his side.

  The Council magic did nothing, as she'd worried, but the blade cut through his leather tunic like butter. When the metal touched his skin, her tată's imbued magic sprung to life. With a brilliant glow of sparking light, the sword hummed with new energy.

  Oliver's aura thickened. Crimson flecked gray swirled to reveal hidden inner colors. The oily translucent blue-purple shocked Anca for a long second.

  Her mind flashed to long ago, to tales her father had told of creatures descended from the earth's magic, like their Romani people.

  The trolls and giants. And the bengs, or devils.

  Not the devils of Christianity, or the creatures of other realms such as demons. Bengs were more simple.

  And not inherently evil.

  Everything clicked into place.

  Shouting in pain from the magic of her sword, Oliver jerked away and stumbled toward the dais, and his mistress.

  Eliza did nothing but watch him, and Anca, a curious expression on her face. One of bloodlust. She wanted to see them fight.

  If Oliver was a beng so much of the strangeness made sense.

  The siphoning of other's power, of using it for oneself or giving it to someone else, was a power of the bengs.

  Following the giant vampire, Anca dug her sword into his side. Her blade hungrily vibrated. Her father's power blazed inside Anca, stronger than she'd ever felt before.

  She paid no mind to the fact bengs were supposed to be extinct. Nothing in this place surprised her any more.

  He'd come from Anca's homeland. The same homelands as Eliza Báthory.

  Oliver jerked away and climbed up the steps, then stopped in front of his mistress as if waiting for a command.

  Anc
a followed him up, but didn't attack. Not yet.

  Not when he was running from her and refusing to fight back.

  The more she traced the threads that lead to this time and place, Anca realized it was even possible—if Eliza truly was the daughter of the Blood Countess—that this beng had been with the girl since her childhood.

  No matter. Confidence filled Anca.

  Her Romani magic, her connection to the earth, could beat both of these old Arcaine creatures.

  She just had to reach deeper inside herself. Find more strength.

  Eliza laughed, the sound sweet and innocent. Then she demanded, "Kill the Judge."

  Oliver's aura flushed with magic from the earth. Which meant he was connected to the lines of power Anca needed.

  She just had to decipher how and then use it herself.

  Before she even registered he was moving, Oliver backhanded her.

  Hot daggers jabbed through Anca's cheek and jaw. She flew across the dais. Crashed into the rocky wall behind the throne.

  She gasped a breath. Fire burned in her lungs.

  Something brushed her arm. Startled, she brought her sword up. And found herself looking into Brighton's gaze.

  Her fellow Judge hoarsely whispered in a broken voice, "They have a siphon."

  "I know. It's Oliver."

  "Can you beat him?"

  She gave him an honest answer. "I think so."

  He closed his eyes. "If you can't free me, do me a favor."

  "Yeah?"

  "Kill me."

  Anca didn't have time to say she'd never consider that an option.

  Oliver reached them.

  She struck at him with her blade, staying inside the arc of his polearm. She slashed her saif in a large X, her movements a blur as she slashed the inside of his arms again and again, opening up gashes that bled freely.

  He reached for her with one of his shovel sized hands.

  Anca ducked under his massive paw, but couldn't avoid the slash of the long bladed staff across her thigh.

  She stumbled. Lost her footing.

  Flowing into a roll, Anca fell off the dais. Right next to the wolf. Jake yipped, shaking his head. The silver chain rattled loudly.

  Oliver's heavy steps echoed across the dais. Toward them.

  Anca met the wolf's arctic blue gaze. "Why should I let you go? You'd either run away or attack me," she said harshly, but didn't move away.

  He shook his head, whimpered, then yipped, as if to say he'd be on her side.

  Oliver reached the edge. Stared down at them. He grunted and jumped.

  Anca grabbed the wolf, rolling them both out of the way. Instead of them, Oliver heavily landed only on the end of the silver chain.

  The wolf jerked his head back, managing to get the chain partially off. Against her better judgment, Anca listened to her instincts, telling her that he might be of help. Besides, if he stayed there, trapped in the chain, he'd likely end up collateral damage.

  She released him.

  The damn wolf used her lap as a springboard. He sailed through the air and crashed into Oliver's chest. Ripping with sharp claws, Jake latched his jaws on the soft underside of Oliver's throat and sank his teeth in deep.

  Screaming, Oliver punched at the wolf, but Jake locked his jaws. Blood dribbled down the beng's shirt. Yet none of it slowed him.

  Anca jumped to her feet and attacked, combining her efforts with the wolf. She slashed and hacked at Oliver's ankles, finally bringing him to his knees with a crash.

  On the other side of the room, Leo screamed.

  Anca glanced over to find the kid had returned to the dais, and his fight with Eliza. The girl was pinning him to the wooden platform, gleefully cutting his bared stomach with one of his own knives.

  Leo continued fighting, a trained warrior to his core, thanks to his betrayed clan. But his movements were faltering. Crazed blind rage could only take one so far.

  The wolf let go of Oliver's throat and yipped at Anca, jerking his head toward Leo and Eliza as if to say, Go help him. Then Jake launched himself at the giant once more, forcing the beng down onto the floor. The wolf's claws sliced through Oliver's clothes, his skin.

  Anca jumped onto the dais. "Leave Leo alone. If you want a fight, you can get one from me. And I guarantee I'll be taking you down."

  With a vicious smirk, Eliza plunged Leo's dagger into his stomach. She drew back and blasted him with powerful magic.

  The backlash was agonizing over Anca's skin.

  Leo fell silent and limp.

  Eliza rushed Anca almost too quickly to block. The girl's clawed nails slashed over Anca's wrist as she swung her saif.

  Her tată's magic repelled the evil in the child.

  With a short scream, her eyes narrowed and Eliza danced farther back. "Defeated and becoming my pet, or seeing you dead." The child shrugged. "Either way this'll be great fun." Her light giggles sent a shiver tickling Anca's spine.

  But she realized something. Just as she used her looks and apparent youth to make others underestimate her, so too did this girl.

  Eliza enjoyed playing the part of a laughing, smiling and quite insane child. She used it to unsettle her opponents. To catch them off guard.

  "Kill me? Not likely," Anca replied. "And it'll be impossible to control me."

  "We'll see," Eliza said, a flicker of knowledge—almost agreement—in the girl's expression.

  "I killed your siren. Your sipher is almost out of stolen magic. How do you honestly expect to control me?" Anca punctuated her question with the blade of her sword, cutting into the girl's upper arm.

  She pulled the force of the hit at the last second, her mind screaming that she could not harm a child. A pit of horror opened in her gut knowing she'd have no choice.

  It was Eliza, or Anca and those she was here to protect.

  The hesitation cost her.

  Eliza's intense magic pummeled her. Broke Anca's concentration. Another wave, harder, shoved her across the dais. Her feet slipped on the edge. She tumbled onto the ground. A couple brick-like hits to her sternum and Anca found her lungs resisting breath.

  The girl followed with slow steps, hitting Anca with her frighteningly strong power, over and over.

  Shoved back yet again, Anca came up against the prone form of the wolf, Jake. She barely saw Oliver's blow before he hit the side of her head. Drove her to the ground.

  With a smirk, Eliza said, "You won't get away. My people are legion."

  Anca spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva and pushed herself back up to her feet, clenching the hilt of her sword.

  She took a deep, sharply painful breath and replied, "I doubt that."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Matt and Robby raced from the tunnel into a long cavern blocked by brick walls and wooden doors.

  Shouting, then a long, shrill scream, came from the only open doorway, to the far left. They rushed inside a narrowly stretching room decorated by tortured captives chained to silk covered walls.

  And at the far end, beneath glaring lights, Anca held her curved sword tight and parried a giant of a vampire's oversized bladed staff. The thick wooden polearm was a good five feet long tipped by a sharply glinting four foot blade. Both weapon and vampire were covered in blood. His? Anca's?

  She moved with a weariness that spoke of waning energy, helped along by her wounds. But she parried again. Anca darted forward but the giant never gave her time to get inside his defenses.

  He blocked her every swing and jab, his polearm always there to stop her strikes.

  Fear and worry, rage at the daring of anyone stupid enough to try to harm what was his, fired Matt's blood.

  Adrenaline filled him with strength.

  His senses came alive with the need to protect.

  He shoved Robby to a small dark corner near the door. "Stay away from the fight. Anyone comes after you, hide if you can. Run if you must. Got me?"

  With a slow nod, the kid sank into a squat and wrapped his arms tight aro
und his stomach, rocking a bit.

  Matt didn't like leaving him, but the enemy lay on the other side of the room. As did Anca.

  Protect.

  Mate.

  He wasn't certain of the last part, but he would keep the woman safe, even if it killed him.

  Magic thrummed through the air. Anca stumbled closer to the giant. His bladed spear shallowly cut across her stomach. Matt couldn't make out the injury among so many others. Before he knew it, he was halfway down the stretching room.

  Anca dodged out of the vampire's reach. Only to come up against a new threat.

  Acid churned in Matt's gut at the creepy little girl. Blood stained her chin. Drenched the front of her frou-frou dress.

  He ran faster, closing the distance. Magic pulsed over his skin like thousands of fiery biting ants.

  Anca faced the child. Their expressions tightened. A battle of wills and magic clashed between them.

  Matt jumped behind Anca and raised his borrowed sword, just in time to block the giant's strike at her unprotected back.

  Metal clanged. Vibrations raced up Matt's arms numbingly.

  The huge vampire grunted. Swung again.

  Matt managed to block, but shockwaves raced up his arms again. This wasn't working.

  Dropping the sword, he fell into a much more natural fighting stance—for him anyway—and settled his center. Behind him, Anca's breathing sped up. She mumbled something he couldn't hear, then moaned slightly.

  The pressure of magic around her and the girl was a sphere shoving out at everyone else.

  Then the biting power faded, overcome by a softer magic scented with cherry blossoms. The girl cried out.

  Matt's giant opponent paled. Anger and fear sparked in the vampire's eyes. With an ear ringing bellow, he charged.

  Gathering his strength, Matt tracked the vampire's steps and charged at the last second. He slapped the polearm to the side. Reached the giant. Attacked with fists and hard boots.

  With each pained grunt from the vampire, Matt's strength grew. He pummeled the guy. A knee snapped and the giant screamed, falling to his knees.

  The guy grabbed him, clamping Matt in a tight bear hold. Thick arms of pure muscle began to squeeze.

  Matt slammed his forehead into the vampire's nose. The guy screamed again. The satisfying crunch didn't get Matt released, so he did it again.

 

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