In the Dark

by Jen Colly

  “If Sampson is dead...” Nero couldn’t finish the sentence.

  “They might already have him,” Captain Savard finished for him.

  “They might not,” Soren said. He could barely catch a solid stream of thought. Adrenaline was not always a good thing. “Navarre is smart. He’s strong. What if he escaped?”

  “Leaving Sampson?” Nero asked in disbelief.

  “Maybe Sampson stayed as a decoy.” Soren grasped for an explanation.

  The captain shook his head with certainty. “Not on Navarre’s orders.”

  “Navarre could be fighting,” Flynn suggested quietly.

  “Don’t say that.” Captain Savard combed his fingers through his hair roughly, anger seeping from him. “Damn you, don’t you dare say that.”

  “Why? Why not say it?” Soren glared at the captain.

  “Because he would!” the captain roared, shooting him a level stare.

  Flynn looked near hopelessness. “He could be anywhere.”

  “Captain?” Nero called in an anxious voice from the doorway.

  They joined him, followed his stare down the empty hallway.

  Soren stepped into the corridor. Nothing. Then from his right came the faint clash of swords.

  “To your lord,” Captain Savard yelled, bolting down the corridor.

  Soren followed, Flynn and Nero on his heels. They rounded the corner, and Soren carried too much momentum. He banked off the left wall. Here, in the corridor leading to the main entrance of the city, Navarre battled alone, holding off three demons.

  Captain Savard heaved a demon off Navarre, neatly slicing its arm. The creature’s flailing surprise made its heart an easy target. Soren and Nero took out the other two by stabbing them deep in their backs.

  No time to catch their breath. Six more demons came from the city’s dark entrance. Two went for Navarre, two more charged after the captain, completely ignoring the rest of the Guardians.

  Nero intercepted a demon, as did Flynn. Soren aided Navarre, thrusting his blade through the ribs of a particularly tall one. It bellowed in anger. As he pulled his sword from the demon, it turned on him.

  Soren ducked under the creature’s sword arm and stabbed it in the ribs again. This time it faltered, went to its knees. Soren didn’t waste the opportunity. He drove his fist into its face, knocked it on its back, and pierced it through the heart.

  Nero and Flynn still fought the same demons, and the two after Captain Savard had backed him against the wall. They’d have to wait. Soren strode toward Navarre, intent on finishing off the threat to his lord.

  A demon broke away from Captain Savard, barreled at Soren. Unlike the first demon he’d bested, this one was ready for him.

  Their swords met. The heavy metal clatter echoed off the stone surrounding them. Soren threw his weight against the demon, pushed it back to gain ground. They broke apart, and his quick jabs were barely enough to keep the demon from getting too close.

  Nero cried out, and Soren glanced in time to see his friend fall and the demon easily overpower him now that he was down. There was nothing he could do. Nero was already gone.

  A sharp pain sliced along his bicep, and he poured out his anger through his sword, slamming it down hard on the demon, bombarding the foul creature’s defenses. He had to kill it quickly. Nero’s killer had set its sights on Navarre.

  Captain Savard blocked a killing blow to Flynn, but paid for it with a deep gash to his side. With the enemy’s next strike, Flynn fell, and as he did, the demon surged at Captain Savard.

  Savard dropped to his knees, shoved his blade upward, into the assailant’s ribcage. The demon dropped, and Savard rolled away, using the corpse to block a blow from a second demon.

  How wrong, this whole scenario felt. Every time a vampire went down, the enemy went for the captain or Navarre. They’d cornered the two men in command of the city, and they were well aware of that fact.

  His attack became more aggressive, driving the demon back hard. With no choice but to step backward and catch its balance, it tripped over a body, then tumbled onto the floor. Soren speared his sword through its neck, then its chest.

  The crying, screaming of children muted the sounds of clashing metal. He whipped around, trying to pinpoint the origin.

  “Savard!” Navarre shouted, pointing at the doorway to the chateau’s cellar.

  Captain Savard followed his direction, as did Soren. Farther up the corridor, six demons made their exit from the city, each carrying a child. Two of the young girls had fathers right here, lying dead on the floor. The last demon held the youngest, a small toddler with short wispy curls and round, frightened eyes. She belonged to Sampson.

  “No!” Captain Savard yelled as he dodged blow after blow from the demon. “You stay here.”

  “Get this filth out of my city, Captain,” Navarre snapped as he shoved the demon, jabbed his sword deep in its gut. It fell, leaving only one for Soren. The lord of Balinese sprinted after the children.

  Soren drove his blade through his bleeding victim, then engaged the other assailant, blocking it from following Navarre. “Go, Captain. Help Navarre,” he urged.

  He glanced back. The demon lay dead and Captain Savard had disappeared.

  With renewed strength, he battered the last demon, and as he caught its shoulder, it howled in pain. Its arm hung, useless. He finished it, sending his sword through its heart.

  Soren ripped off the end of his shirt, tied it tightly around his arm to stop his blood from oozing out. He stepped over the bodies of friends and foes, and made his way above. The door had been flung wide open.

  As he dashed through the cellar and up the stairs, the hollow sound of every footfall ricocheted through the night. It shouldn’t be this quiet.

  He stepped from the kitchen and into the main room. The tall, arched windows cast fat moonlit stripes onto the floor, making a gruesome spotlight.

  Navarre sprawled on the floor, unmoving. Blood coated his shirt, his hands, and pooled on the floor beneath him.

  Just outside the light, Captain Savard knelt beside his lord, head hanging, chin to chest, his breathing harsh and uneven.

  “Is he...” Soren began, but stopped himself from saying the word. The thought alone was horrifying.

  “No. I fed him, but I don’t have enough. I could only close the wound. He’s not conscious and won’t take more. I’ve tried.” Captain Savard struggled to catch his breath. Young features twisted in pain, he pressed his hand against his side, where his own blood continued to spill from that deep gash. “Take Navarre below and hide him. Do you hear me? Hide him. Come back for Steffen. He needs your vein.”

  Captain Savard fought to stand, bracing himself on a nearby chair. His body refused to stay upright. He’d been weakened. Drained.

  “Where’s Steffen?”

  The captain pointed to a shadowed corner. There, a pair of legs lay on the floor at an odd angle in the dim light, the rest hidden from sight in shadows.

  The captain grunted as he pushed away from the chair, sucking in deep, readying breaths.

  “Where are you going?” Soren demanded.

  “To get those children.”

  By the time Soren had opened his mouth, Captain Savard had gone out the door and into the night.

  Soren knelt at Navarre’s side. Raising his head and shoulders carefully, he lifted his lord. Navarre’s warm blood quickly soaked through his shirt and his hold became slippery.

  “I will return, Steffen,” Soren said to the dark corner.

  “Forget me,” Steffen replied, his breath rattling in his chest. “Only Navarre is important.”

  “It’s nearly dawn, my friend. I won’t leave you here for the sunlight. I’ll be back for you. That’s a promise.”

  His options had been seriously limited. He couldn’t venture into the city carrying Navarr
e, so he’d backtracked to the outer corridor and slipped inside a small closet. Gently, he laid Navarre down and repositioned several boxes to conceal him.

  Hiding Navarre and retrieving Steffen blurred together. Steffen had been unconscious by the time he’d returned and would live, but without the aid of blood, his body would take a long time to heal.

  As he laid Steffen on a small cot in the clinic, a familiar tickling skittered across the back of his neck. The sun was rising. He prayed Captain Savard had found the children before the dawn claimed them. He could no longer help the captain, or the children.

  * * * *

  The doors to the arena burst open, and Faith jumped, along with hundreds of other women. Almost an hour had passed since the last demon had dropped in, and the grating sound of the doors opening released a whole new batch of adrenaline through her.

  Sword raised, she strained to see over or between the men. Not one demon had made it past the Guardians, but being unprepared wouldn’t help anyone.

  She waited. No swords clashing or grunting. No fighting. The men started speaking at once, breaking the tense silence.

  “Is it over?”

  “Have they gone?”

  Voices she didn’t recognize belonging to men she couldn’t see. Frustrating.

  “Soren, is it safe?”

  “I don’t know yet,” he answered. “I need you to keep everyone here. We’re going to sweep the city before anyone leaves the safety of the arena.”

  Faith dropped her sword and pushed through the men. She ducked under one man’s elbow, and through eyes blurred with tears, finally caught sight of Soren. He was covered in blood. Black blood, mixed with red. It coated his hands, streaked across his face, and soaked his shirtsleeve and torso. Some patches had dried, though others looked very fresh. A sob escaped her throat, and he found her instantly.

  Numbing shock planted her feet in the sand, but she didn’t need to move. In two long strides he was there, his hands on her face, brushing her tears away.

  “It’s not all mine, Faith. I’m not hurt badly. Promise.”

  She nodded, hiccupping through her tears, not knowing how to tell him. “Gustav...he saved me...he’s...” Then she broke down, sobbing, leaning on him for strength.

  “I know, Faith. I know.”

  Chapter 17

  An impatient knock thumped a second time, and he threw the door open, his gun leveled at the man’s head.

  Captain Savard sent him a scolding look.

  Soren shrugged, unapologetic. “After what happened, I wouldn’t be surprised if my enemies knocked first.”

  “I almost wish they would,” the captain said flatly.

  “It’s all right,” Soren called out into his home. Elin stepped out from somewhere behind the door, a gun in her hand.

  “Reinforcements?” Captain Savard asked.

  “Something like that,” Soren answered.

  “I assume you two need to have a talk.” Elin left them and joined Faith, who peeked from the bedroom.

  “I’ll be right back,” Soren said to Faith, and she nodded. He had no desire to let her out of his sight this soon after the attack, but didn’t have a choice. Thank God for Elin. She’d promised to stick close to Faith. Her presence in his home preserved his sanity.

  “I need to know where he is. He’s not safe,” the captain whispered. He looked utterly drawn. If he could, he’d probably be leaning against the wall for support, but constantly scanned their surroundings instead. “I heard Elin sliced through a few demons on her way to the arena.”

  “Undoubtedly. I’ve been training her in secret for several years,” Soren admitted. “If only she could be a Guardian.”

  The captain shot him a level look. “She’s already being shunned.”

  “Elin knew the consequences of being trained,” Soren said simply.

  Together they moved Navarre, careful to avoid being seen. It hadn’t been a problem. Few frightened citizens had ventured from their homes.

  Soren showed the captain to a storage closet piled high with boxes. The stagnant air and dust-covered boxes proved it hadn’t been touched in roughly a decade. This room, though functional, wasn’t ideal. They would have to move him again.

  “You’re not planning on moving him tonight, are you?” Soren asked.

  “No, it’s too soon,” Captain Savard said, seeming to have a hard time looking away from Navarre’s motionless body.

  “Will he live?”

  “I think the demon pierced his heart. His muscles and skin haven’t healed yet. If his body can’t repair the damage on its own, we’ll lose him.”

  “Navarre has no heirs,” Soren said with sudden realization. Without leadership, the city would fall regardless of Navarre’s survival. “Who is acting lord?”

  “I am.”

  The information didn’t come as a surprise. Captain Savard had greatness in him. Navarre trusted him completely, as did Soren. He’d always been willing to follow the captain of the Guardians to battle and death. Nothing had actually changed. The man and his principles remained the same. “What do we do now...my lord?”

  “I don’t know, and don’t call me your lord.” Captain Savard pinned him with a hard glare. “As long as Navarre lives, he is lord over this city and those who reside within. I’m only keeping his people safe until he awakens.”

  Captain Savard strode to the door and opened it, waited for him, and when he’d walked through, locked it behind them.

  “Do you intend to take on both duties of lord and captain?” Soren asked.

  “No. I need an acting captain. Can I count on you?”

  “Always.” He bowed his head slightly in respect.

  “The council meets in twenty minutes,” Captain Savard said.

  “Right. What’s left of it,” Soren bit out.

  “A new council must be created. You will join, as will Ivan.”

  “Ivan? Are you sure?” Ivan had been an impressive Guardian long ago, but his volatile temper left much to be desired.

  “He’s dedicated to the survival of the vampire race. That’s what I care about.” The look the captain gave him demanded he drop the conversation.

  * * * *

  Ivan, young and lean, eased himself into the plush council chair with the grace of a predator. His blue jeans and white T-shirt fit perfectly with his short-cropped hair. “Someone want to tell me why these things didn’t drool and sport their usual sallow look?” he asked, his tone as casual as his appearance.

  Soren glanced at Captain Savard. “At least he’s observant.”

  Ivan glared, but ignored him and turned to the captain. “So what are they?”

  Captain Savard stood at the head of the table. Even in his new position, he looked like he had no desire to sit through a meeting. “We don’t know.”

  Ivan lifted his cup, took a lazy sip of coffee. “Great, let’s just announce that to the public.”

  “Their eyes were red,” Captain Savard said. “They were demons, or some variation thereof.”

  “Not all of them had red eyes, my lord,” Ivan returned.

  That newly divulged information threw the room into dead silence.

  Soren’s heart sank as he stared across the table at Ivan. Had he truly said the unthinkable?

  “Are you saying vampires attacked us?” the captain asked, his voice hushed.

  “Not exactly.” Ivan leaned forward over the table. “Two walked along like one of our kind, then attacked Sampson. I pulled one off him and fought the blue-eyed devil. I thought he was vampire, until his eyes turned red.”

  “Its eyes changed colors?” Soren asked.

  “They did,” Ivan said.

  “Without yellowish skin and constant red eyes, they look like you and me,” the captain mused. “Any one of us could be demon and we’d never know.”
/>
  That new concern could have horrible consequences. “How long did they live down here with us, as one of us, until the attack? Are some still here?”

  “There’s no way to know for certain. No instances in my reports stood out in this capacity.” Captain Savard shook his head slowly. “From this moment on, no one enters Balinese, and no one leaves. Not yet.”

  The city was on lock down, which he’d only witnessed once before on the night Navarre’s father had been assassinated. Had Navarre been alone when the attack began? “Ivan, you said Sampson was with you.”

  Ivan nodded. “I sounded the alarm, and Sampson went straight for Navarre.”

  “Sampson died protecting Navarre,” Soren said.

  “I know.” Ivan’s voice sounded tight, guarded. “They even got the good doctor in his home.”

  “Elin’s father.” Soren shook his head. How was he going to tell her?

  Ivan pushed the empty cup away from him. “Bareth died.”

  “What?” Fists clenched on the tabletop, Captain Savard leaned toward Ivan. “When? Why wasn’t I told?”

  “I let him know his boy was safe,” Ivan replied, staring at the table, “like you told me to, Captain. I followed him home so he could check on Gretta. She was dead. Killed by the demon who took their boy.” He raised sorrow-filled eyes, shaking his head. “He went straight into the sun. I couldn’t stop him.”

  Head hung, Captain Savard took a deep breath, then, “Bareth is a great loss.”

  “So many dead,” Soren said. “Sampson. Flynn died with Nero. Their wives died struggling to keep their children safe. Julian and Yasmin...” He couldn’t say it, and raised a shaking hand, covered his mouth. He didn’t have to say a word. Everyone here knew demons had torn Julian and Yasmin apart and taken their children, left them to bleed out on the floor of the dining hall.

  “Whoever choreographed this attack wanted Balinese,” Captain Savard said with certainty.

  “Why would any demon want a vampire city?” The notion baffled Soren.

  “Precisely. They wouldn’t. Not for any reason I can come up with,” Captain Savard said, then fixed his gaze on him. “Soren, train and accept every man requesting to take on the responsibilities of a Guardian. If none request, knock on doors. I want our numbers doubled in a week, tripled in two.”