Blood of a Huntsman: After Darkness Falls Book Two

by Sage, May

  Levi’s waters had flooded the ravine, preventing any storm mage from using their magic—they would have just ended up electrocuting anyone. Thinking fast, Cat kicked Credence down the ravine and pushed one jolt of lightning right through him, before moving on to the next ancient.

  Alone, she would have had no chance. But the witches—Blair, Greer, Gwen, or any of the others—slowed them down, hindering her adversaries’ progress. More importantly, they shielded her so that she only faced one of them at a time.

  They started to look like the winning side.

  For a time.

  Then the sky roared again. At first, Cat was unconcerned, believing that it had come from Seth, but the call felt different. More…refined. She looked up and gasped.

  Her lightning, like Seth's, was a bolt of brilliant light. Nature called upon, unleashed. This was something else altogether. A dark bolt, zigzagging in black streaks, turning day to night.

  Most turned to Oldcrest, but Cat's attention was on Julia.

  Seth had tried to reach her, that much was clear, but the other ancients had barred his progress, keeping him away from their best weapon while she prepared to strike.

  Now it was too late. She could see it. Julia had released all of her power.

  Cat closed her eyes, feeling a shift in the energy around her, an explosion.

  She didn't want to look back, but she couldn’t resist.

  The shields around their home were flickering away in crumbling bright speckles.

  Anyone could get in now. The inhabitants of Adairford. The wolves in the wood. The younger students still in the Institute. They were all in danger now.

  The enemies immediately tried to spread out, attempting to circle round their line of defense.

  Shit.

  "Seth!"

  Julia was irrelevant now. They needed to stop the slayers from destroying everything in their territory.

  Her brother nodded and rode his lightning bolt, appearing on the other side of the ravine, taking those who attempted to breach the eastern front.

  But he wasn't enough.

  Cat wished she could rush to help, but there were five ancients left, and only she and Bash were here to fight them. Even with the witches’ help, they were outmatched.

  Block, feint, run, roll, leap, kick, miss. Again and again. Stay alive. That was all that mattered now. Taking the next breath. Cat was tired, though, her limbs becoming heavier with every second. Bash was also slowing down.

  From the corner of her eye, she saw wings. White wings. Cat glanced back long enough to see their second nephilim taking the other flank. Between Jack and Seth, the enemies soon stopped attempting to pass through their side, focusing instead on the center. On their witches.

  Shit. This didn't look good at all.

  "Pretty girl!" Bash yelled over the chaos.

  "What?"

  "I think I might just love you. You know."

  What the hell? She glanced at him, a mistake that earned her a kick in the shin.

  Cat moved away from Denningway to avoid another hit, and held her fists up in a defensive stance. The witches were getting tired, too, but someone gave her a window. As her muscles burned, Cat called to her storm, hitting the bitch with a zap right on her head. A little hit, but it was enough to give her a moment to slit her throat.

  Then she turned to Bash. "Now? Now you go all mushy?"

  He was on the ground, wrestling one of the ancients she didn't recognize. The man's fangs were bared, and he was closing in on Bash's throat. As she was too far away to jump in, she threw her sword, thankfully hitting the right target. Not fatally, but Bash managed to get to his feet.

  Only now, the elder had a sword.

  Shit.

  "It doesn't look like I'll get another chance," Bash replied, eyes on his opponent.

  Cat had another ancient on her right then.

  With every passing moment, their luck decreased and the likelihood of them both making it out alive dwindled. The people who could truly rival any of those ancients were concentrating on Chloe. Cat got it. Chloe was everything to Levi, and everyone else deferred to him.

  But with their ancients elsewhere, and their witches weakening, she and Sebastian might actually die.

  The vampires were getting close to them now. Greer had erected shields around them, but strong as she was, how long would they last?

  So she said it. What did it matter, anyway?

  "Yeah. I guess I might love you, too."

  Nightmares

  The world was ending. He knew it when he heard those words from her lips. But he didn't even care.

  Bash grinned as he faced his opponent, a man as wide as him, as wild as him, but twice as strong. He didn't think he'd ever been that exhausted. It didn't matter.

  "Do you have any reason for fighting?" Bash asked the stranger.

  "Honor," the man replied.

  Simple and to the point.

  And it sounded empty as fuck.

  "Well, good. I'll probably win, then."

  The man lunged, fast, but he wasn’t the problem; Bash felt and saw another vampire coming from his flank.

  He didn't have to wonder why. The witches who'd helped them however they could, ensured that they were fighting only one enemy at a time, weren't able to assist them anymore.

  Shit. Two ancient vampires fighting him at once.

  At least he'd heard Catherine say those precious words before the end.

  He closed his eyes.

  And opened them again.

  The entire battlefield had been mayhem, brouhaha, disarray. Now there was complete and utter silence.

  All eyes converged on the northern borders, so Bash looked too, frowning and not quite understanding what he saw.

  The witches were still there, none hurt, thank god. Someone was standing in front of them. Something. Wilder than anything Bash had ever seen, stronger than anyone here. Something out of nightmares, protecting the nineteen witches.

  He had no weapon in hand, no claws, his fangs weren't even out, but Bash knew this was a bloodsucker. No one had ever fit the image of a vampire more than this man.

  He was tall and handsome. Too handsome. He wore a long, manly skirt—a little like a kilt, but black and flowing around his ankles. Nothing on his crafted torso. His skin was pale. His hair was dark at the roots, light after one inch. Matted.

  Wildness and control. Beauty and savagery.

  It hit him, then.

  This was the creature of nightmares. Not Bash's, but theirs. All the intruders were living their worst fear.

  This was Eirikr.

  The stillness didn't last. The next instant, Eirikr's fist ran right through the first enemy's chest, and he pulled out his heart.

  A cannon. He was a cannon, bashing through the entire field with the might of a force of nature, the strength of a god, and yes, beauty too. His grace made murder a dance. Bash could only watch wordless, motionless.

  The corpses that hadn't yet fallen to the ground dropped, and then there was more silence.

  "Shit."

  The abundance of blood all around him was making Bash sick, dizzy, and too thirsty. He brought his hand to his face and pinched his nose.

  "Now, now," said Eirikr pleasantly. "I've known many warrior souls. I recognize greatness. That's just a little blood. You can take it, child."

  Those words were all it took. Bash found that he could take it. That the blood was irrelevant. He straightened his spine and knotted his hands behind his back, watching Eirikr as he crossed the ravine.

  Not walking down and then back up like everyone else. Oh, no. Eirikr walked on air, until he was standing right in front of the witches again.

  They formed a united front, no one stepping away, no one moving. Bash had to admire them. Hand in hand with Cat, Bash closed in on them, and as he got closer, Eirikr's glare chilled him to the bones. If that thing had looked at him like that, he might have pissed himself.

  Eirikr laughed.

  "Who
?" he asked.

  Just one word, but Bash felt a potent authority drip from it. He knew he would have answered—if only to say that he didn’t know, or ask for details.

  The witches remained silent and immobile, keeping their circle tight. Bash's admiration for them grew tenfold. After watching him dismember and destroy an entire army like they were nothing, they dared defy him? That took some balls.

  Eirikr paced in front of the group.

  "Eirikr," Chloe called, breathless. "How did you—"

  "Escape? I didn't; I was released. By one of your friends here."

  Every word had a threatening edge.

  "One of your friends who has the blood of the elders, the blood of Tatiana, running right inside her veins. Who?" he demanded again.

  His hand reached out to cup Blair's face. She tried to slap it away, but he'd already let go.

  "No. You're a White descendant. Powerful bloodline. Not the right bloodline, however. I am looking for a dash of fae. A little Greek. A little Roman. Some Pompeiian…and whatever else you may have acquired over the last few centuries."

  Now he stopped and turned slowly, grinning.

  At Greer.

  He looked her up and down.

  "You."

  She said nothing, but her chin lifted an inch.

  "My, what an exotic cocktail. I'd say you're quite as beautiful as Tatiana herself. Perhaps even more so. I see some Indian, perhaps?"

  "Yes, some," she replied.

  "Among other things. It matters not. No blood could have overcome the legacy of your elders. And so, you're the guardian of this hellhole. The very last, if I'm not mistaken. I wonder what would happen if I rip open your pretty throat."

  "Would you kill an innocent mortal, Primerius?" Greer challenged.

  Jeez, the woman had a backbone of iron.

  "I suppose I could make an exception."

  She didn't falter.

  He didn't move to strike.

  "I am still tethered," he stated.

  "I won't undo the work of my forefathers. I couldn't if I wanted to."

  Eirikr tilted his head. "And yet here I am."

  Greer lifted her hand. Though he was standing a few feet away, Bash saw and smelled blood dripping from the gash on her arm. Someone had bitten her. Hurt her.

  Eirikr laughed. "Ah. I swore to protect Aurora. And so you used my words to bind me to your welfare. Naughty little witch."

  He took one step forward, and Greer launched into a chant, words in a tongue Bash didn't recognize spilling out of her mouth at high speed.

  The next moment, Eirikr disappeared in a blur, a fast shadow heading right back to his cave on the hill.

  The silence returned. A silence charged with relief, worry, and questions. Above all, questions.

  Greer sighed before walking back to the line where their shield had been in place. Her hands went up to either side of her face, and her chanting resumed. In the same language, but slower now, more eloquent.

  Blair joined her.

  "Do you want to channel me? I have a little energy left."

  Greer seemed surprised. She nodded. "Thanks. That'd be nice. I'm beat."

  She took her left hand and lifted her other one to match Greer's stance, repeating her words and letting Greer take her strength.

  Bash had taken enough classes in magic to realize that, witch or not, he could probably help too. He stepped forward, offering one hand to Greer. Cat took his, then Chloe took Cat's, and Levi took Chloe's. Before they knew it, they were all standing in a large demi-moon, offering whatever energy they had left. Even Jack and even Cat's annoying brother.

  And just like that, the shields were back in place, stronger than ever.

  They walked back in silence through the main street of Oldcrest. Some went to the dorm. Bash followed Cat to Night Hill.

  They reached the Stormhale home, and she led them to a bedroom. The bed wasn't even made, but they both crashed on top of it, fading into oblivion.

  Peace

  Sebastian was beautiful. She hadn't let herself admit how much until now, but he was. His eyelashes were so very long, his face so symmetric. And his mouth. She loved his mouth.

  She grinned for the longest time, feeling incredibly giddy, girly, and silly.

  She could afford to. She was alive.

  Cat knew just what would make her feel alive right then. She got to her hands and knees and crawled down to his boxers, freeing his morning wood and putting it in her mouth, sucking it long and hard.

  Bash thrust in slow and shallow, still asleep, but soon his eyes flew open. He laughed.

  "I died, didn't I? I'm in heaven."

  "We're alive, I think. But heaven can always be arranged."

  She was too impatient to stretch out the play, too needy and desperate to feel him. She climbed on his lap and lowered herself onto his hard cock, moaning as he entered her. Thankfully, Bash was on the same page, and began thrusting high, hard, deep, and fast. Today wasn't about slow caresses, about sweet nonsense. It was about reconnecting, putting the pieces back together after they'd almost fallen apart.

  They could have lost everything. For a time, they'd both believed they might. Now, they were reclaiming it. Seizing balance, perfection, life.

  A bond. A bond Cat hadn't felt, but now tugged at her, making itself known, and there was only one thing left to do. Her fangs extended painfully under her lips, and she bit down on his shoulder, swallowing the tiniest drop of blood just as he took hers right under the collarbone.

  One drop was all it took for mates to claim each other. And they were one.

  It was lucky that she’d stocked up. Everyone made it for tea at four o’clock. And everyone promised that they’d be there the next time Catherine held a party, and the time after that too.

  Cat and Greer helped Chloe move her belongings to Skyhall.

  The dark castle was filled with light inside, thanks to its great windows. And something else. This felt a little less like a statement, and more like a home. A place where some might have laughed and loved long ago.

  “I guess it’s not so bad,” Chloe admitted. “Wanna help me pick a room?”

  She didn’t linger in her new home.

  She had somewhere else to be.

  Chloe hesitated.

  Even the very first time she'd made her way down to the cave, she'd been more confident. Even the very first night, she’d believed that this place meant safety to her. Now, she feared everything had changed.

  But she went to Eirikr's prison nonetheless.

  He was her ancestor. Her family. He called her his little daughter.

  Yes, he was a thousand times more savage than anyone she knew, and yes, he'd done terrible things in his time. But that didn't have to change their relationship.

  Did it?

  Eirikr was seated on the floor at the end of his cave, his bright blue eyes locked on hers.

  Chloe bit her lip.

  "I didn't know," she said.

  It made no difference, but she wanted him to realize that.

  "I didn't know Greer was the descendant of the person who trapped you in this place. I had no idea she could get you out. I'll ask her. I'll ask if she'd consider freeing you, for good."

  "Don't waste your breath." Eirikr's voice was darker, slower. "It will not be of use. Your witch's hands are as bound as anything can be."

  Chloe wasn't sure she understood.

  "Has anyone told you my story, little daughter? I wonder whether there are any alive to remember it. Other than that monster."

  He meant Ariadne, she guessed, given the ire and disgust in his tone.

  "Levi might know it."

  Eirikr snorted. "Your mate is a child."

  Chloe chuckled, though there was little humor in it. She could count on Eirikr to say things like that.

  "I'll definitely repeat that. See what he says."

  Eirikr had no smile for her today.

  "Tell me," she invited him.

  He rose and str
ode to her. Lifting one hand, he placed it on the side of her head.

  "No. Telling doesn't work. Let me show you."

  And he did just that.

  She saw the hills, smelled the freshly cut grass, heard the laughs and the chants. The scene ran at such a fast pace her vampire mind could only just grasp it. The beautiful woman he loved, the way he would have given everything for her. Then, his descent into hell after he did just that, giving his life so that Tatiana had a second to escape Ariadne's massacre.

  She saw him rise again, and then walk away in the rain. Going to the only place he could go.

  Tatiana.

  She called him a monster, rejected him, threw him out in the street. Then there had been despair, for a time. Eirikr filled his life with the hunt, an endless game of predator and prey.

  Hunting for Ariadne first, but finding her was impossible. She was too fast, too smart, too powerful. Soon, he started to notice the trail of bodies following vampirekind, and his prey changed. He hunted others like him.

  After hundreds of years, Eirikr was as close to peace as he ever could be, settled in a beautiful land with three hills. Here. This was his home.

  He invited the other vampires to join, building them a vacation home. As long as they were no threat to the innocent, he had no quarrel with them. He warred against the monsters.

  He trained humans, asking witches to help strengthen them without turning them into abominations.

  The huntsmen.

  The witches…they were Tatiana's old clan. After the rise of Christianity, when they were chased away, he'd taken them in and settled them in a small fortress, right here.

  The Institute. Clan…Vespian. That was their name.

  And then there was a child of twelve, running away as fast as her little legs could carry her.

  She had been conceived for one purpose: to be sacrificed in order to extend her mother’s life.

  Then Eirikr learned that Tatiana still lived. That through black magic and terrible spells, she'd managed to survive this long.

  "I will protect you, child," he swore.

  At first it had been just that. His need to protect anyone who deserved it, anyone innocent and vulnerable.