The Nightwalker Chronicles
Page 7
Spotting him, Ronan tried to catch up with him and when he couldn’t, shouted out to him.
“Hey!”
Hearing Ronan’s voice, Dylan stopped and turned, his face had a look of cruel amusement.
“Come to avenge your little boy?” he sneered.
“How dare you kill my son!”
“Killing your son was simple. He didn’t put up that much of a fight, to be honest. What a weakling.”
“Don’t you dare call him a weakling. You don’t have the right!” “Perhaps now you’ll give me what I want. You know, I fully intend on continuing what my father couldn’t and exterminate all those who aren’t worthy,” Dylan yelled.
“Oh, is that so, is that all?” Ronan replied, sarcastically.
“We have more planned of course, much more than you can ever imagine.”
Hearing Dylan’s words made Ronan almost freeze in fear. Who knew all the atrocities that he had planned?
“My followers and I are going to have so much fun especially with what we’ve already done.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, his face paling.
“Didn’t you notice that the city’s blood supply has been disappearing lately and mortals have been showing up dead?”
“That was you?” Ronan asked, in shock.
“Who else did you think was responsible for all that?”
“You monster! my wife is dead because of you.”
“Collateral damage.”
Ronan climbed off of Dylan, he then grabbed him by the collar and threw him against one of the outer walls of the building. Walking over, he picked him up effortlessly and began to deliver a series of blows. He continued until Dylan having held back most of his strength up until that moment, extended his very sharp claws and his face became more lupine in appearance. He swiped at Ronan’s face, momentarily blinding him, which gave him the chance he needed. He flipped them over once again and he swiped twice more across Ronan’s chest severely injuring him. He then climbed off of Ronan and got away.
A few minutes later, once he felt that everything had healed, Ronan slowly sat up, how did he fail to even consider that Dylan was ever anything besides mortal? There was no way, thinking back. Certain things should have set off alarms in his head, he should have known better. Once he felt that he was ready to head back, he climbed to his feet and back towards the others.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Walking back towards the doors, Ronan was met once again with his remaining family and friends. Noticing that he was covered in blood, and that he had two deep
gashes across his chest, Mackenzie ran up to him and wrapped their arms around his frame. Slowly, Ronan raised a hand and cupped the back of his head, pulling them towards him. They stood like that for a while until Miles walked up and spoke up.
“Ronan is he dead?” he asked.
Gazing up into his eyes, Ronan shook his head.
“He managed to get away.”
“How did you let him get away?” Miles asked.
He looked at Miles in disbelief.
“Get away? I didn’t let him get away!” Ronan exclaimed.
“Oh really, how so?”
Breaking away from where he stood with Mackenzie, Ronan walked over to Miles until the two of them stood nose to nose.
“He momentarily blinded me with his claws.”
“Claws? What do you mean Ronan?” Xavier asked, stepping out from where he stood behind Miles.
“I don’t know how but it is. He’s both a Lycan and a Nightwalker somehow.”
“So, he’s a hybrid then?”
Ronan nodded.
“Most likely.”
“I’m sorry, Ronan. I jumped to conclusions, I don’t understand how he can be both a Lycan and Nightwalker.”
“Well he said his father was Jackson, his mother must have been a Nightwalker,” Xavier said.
“Where’s Chase is he alright?” he asked, looking around.
Mackenzie nodded.
“C’mon, I’ll bring you to him,” they said, gesturing for Ronan to follow them.
♦♦♦
They made their way through the crowd until they found Chase laying with his head on Mackenzie’s backpack. Walking over, the two of them knelt by him. Ronan gave him a once over, checking to see if he had any physical wounds.
“How are you feeling?” he asked Chase.
Grimacing, Chase shrugged.
“Kind of sore, to be honest. Is it true, is Cole actually dead?” he asked.
Ronan nodded.
“I’m glad the bite took,” Ronan replied, he reached out and pulled the collar of Chase’s shirt aside, taking a look at Chase’s bite.
“Am I going to be okay?”
“Of course, don’t worry. I’m your sire, it’s my duty to look after you and make sure you can manage as a Daywalker.”
“Really?”
“Of course.”
“Thank you, Ronan.”
Ronan wrapped his arms around Chase’s body and pulled him into a hug.
Over the course of the following month, everyone began to help rebuild what was lost. Chase was recovering rather nicely and thankfully slowly adjusting as a Daywalker, as everyone helped where and how they could.
EPILOGUE
It had been a month since their last encounter with Dylan and there were murmurs that the Sanguists were regrouping their numbers spreading to various parts of the country. I needed to talk to some
allies to see if they could help us. At the moment, I was in my study on the phone when finally a few minutes later, I heard a voice on the other end of the phone.
“Hello?” a man’s voice travelled through the phone.
“Am I speaking to Matteo?” I asked.
“Yes, who’s this?”
The voice on the other end seemed to be curious as to who would be calling and especially at this hour.
“It’s Ronan. I’m not sure if you remember me?”
“Of course, I do. How are your kids? I think I remember Theo mentioning them.”
Taking a moment, Ronan felt his throat close up. Swallowing hard, he continued with great difficulty.
“That’s why I called. Something happened, and we really need your help, Matteo.”
“Say no more. I’ll talk to everyone here and we’ll fly out by the end of the week.”
“You will?”
“Yea, I’ll keep you updated during the week, Ronan. We’ll talk later, okay?”
“But don’t you want to know what happened?” I ask.
“You wouldn’t call unless it was important. Don’t worry you can tell me what happened when you get here,” Matteo replied.
“Okay will do. Bye Matteo.”
“Have a safe flight and take care. I’ll see you when you guys get here.” “I hung up the phone and began to make all the necessary preparations we needed before we headed to Vancouver. I honestly didn’t know how we were going to defeat Dylan only that we needed to take care of getting rid of him and his followers and restoring peace and freedom back to the country that they had overtaken.
Reaching over my desk, I picked up the bottle that sat upon the top of it and poured myself a generous amount of whisky that was in it. Raising the glass to my lips, I took a long drink and then placed the glass down, sighing deeply, knowing that I had a huge problem ahead of me now.
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A b o u t t h e A u t h o r
Nancy A. Lopes is the award-winning, bestselling author of The Immortal Chronicles series. She graduated from George Brown College in April 2016 with a certificate in Novel Writing. You can follow her on Twitter at @nancyalopes, on Instagram at @nancyalopes, and her Facebook page https://www.facebook.com/nancyalopes/ She is always eager to hear from any fans.
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