The Last Ward

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The Last Ward Page 3

by Jessica Wayne


  Amos glanced down at it before narrowing his eyes. “Go ahead then. We both know you want to, and nothing would please me more than having you tossed out on your ass.”

  Dax took a deep breath in an effort to calm the rage building, and slowly released his fist. “At least I won’t be tied to a murderer.”

  Amos smiled darkly. “And I won’t be tied to a coward.”

  Turning on his heel, Dax walked quickly to the exit, worried that if he stayed around much longer he would end up being imprisoned for the assault of a board member.

  His father hated him, despised what he’d become, but to cast him out? That took Dax by surprise.

  “Just a name,” he murmured to himself. “Nothing but a word.” But his heart ached as he thought of the brothers and sister he’d never see again. Being cast out meant he would no longer be welcome at any family functions. He wouldn’t see his niece or nephew born, nor attend Theodore’s wedding or Vow ceremony.

  The academy would no longer hang over his head, and he was free to do whatever he wanted without worrying about the consequences it would have on his siblings.

  Amos might have cut him off from everyone he loved, but he’d also freed him.

  3

  Dax headed straight for the exit, not bothering to stop and say any goodbyes. They were useless and would only be the cause of more drama. His father wouldn’t bend to what his family wanted; Dax doubted the man even cared for them or their opinions. Amos would stand his ground, and seeing Mariana’s tears would only make it more difficult for Dax to do what he needed to do: leave.

  Moving with the stealth of someone who consistently hid in plain sight, Dax reached the exit without any issues, and descended the steps two at a time. The courtyard, which had been bustling before, was now empty, most of the men and women either home for the evening or inside working the festivities.

  Lightning split the sky moments before thunder all but shook the earth. Hell of a night to be cast out.

  Muttering to himself, Dax made it to the safety of the stable just before the sky opened and rain pounded down onto the dirt.

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” The storm raged outside, thunder, lightning, and a torrential downpour of rain that would make it impossible for him to go anywhere safely.

  Turning, he studied the inside of the stable. At least a dozen stalls—nearly all of them full—and two large piles of fresh hay. His horse watched him intensely from a stall about halfway down the aisle, so Dax walked over and rubbed his long nose. “Guess we’re bunking together, eh, boy?”

  He nuzzled him in response, and Dax chuckled before walking into the stall and setting his saddlebags down, grateful he’d had the foresight to keep them with him. The sweet scent of the hay filled his nose as Dax took a seat on a pile just inside Shadow’s stall.

  The horse glanced down at him, but then looked back out as more thunder roared, making it sound like there was a battle raging around them.

  Dax opened his bag and pulled out some dried meat and his leather skin pouch of whiskey.

  Apparently I’ll be eating this shit a bit longer. Taking a bite of the meat, he leaned back against the stable wall. The salty taste wasn’t a terrible one, and he should be grateful he had anything to eat at all.

  Dax closed his eyes, and his father’s red face popped back into his mind.

  “You are no longer a Ward.”

  “You are a bastard, a man with no name and no honor.”

  “Fuck him!” Dax yelled, throwing his food against the side of the stall. It thumped against the wood, earning him a bored glance from Shadow and the horse in the next stall.

  Dax groaned and leaned back again, trying to push the night as far from his mind as he could get it. For the past ten years he’d lived on his own, barely seeing his family. Would he even know the difference?

  Would they even realize he was no longer around? He very much doubted Amos would confess that he’d cast Dax out, at least not until it became necessary to do so. Even then, his hard-ass father would undoubtedly ignore any and all protests tossed his way.

  Once Amos Ward made up his mind, that was that.

  Slumping down further into the hay, Dax closed his eyes again, attempting to picture anything but his father’s face. The storm showed no signs of stopping, and no matter how pissed off he was, he wouldn’t be attempting to ride through it.

  Rain he could handle. Wind, sure thing. But lightning? Not a chance in hell. He’d known quite a few men unlucky enough to have been struck with a bolt. None survived to say anything of it.

  Perhaps once the storm passed he’d ride to Arminor and spend some time with Kristal, the barmaid who worked there. They’d spent more than a few nights entertaining each other, and just like him, she wasn’t looking for any permanent companionship. Not since her husband was killed by a stray pack of werewolves four years ago.

  He smiled, picturing her beautiful face. Yes, seeing her would be sure to lift his spirits and keep him occupied until the next job came up.

  “Dax?”

  He leaned up and saw Lawson standing—drenched—in the breezeway.

  “What do you want?”

  “What the hell are you doing out here?” he demanded, armor clinking as he walked toward Shadow’s stall.

  “Ask father.”

  “I did. He said you chose to leave.”

  Dax chuckled. “Of course he did.”

  Lawson’s piercing blue eyes pinned him with a stare. “Then how about you tell me just what the hell is going on?”

  Sitting up, Dax took another drink of his pouch before offering it to his brother.

  Lawson took it and handed it back after taking a drink himself.

  “Your father decided I am no longer a Ward.”

  His brother’s eyes widened. “He did what?”

  “I am a bastard, Lawson. A man with no honor or name. Father’s words, not mine.”

  “He did not.”

  “I assure you,” Dax said, brushing the hay from his ass as he got to his feet, “he most certainly did.”

  “Fucking ass.”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  “You cannot allow him to do that.”

  “I don’t have a choice. He’s the head of the household—holder of all titles, king asshole. I have no power over him or what he chooses to do.”

  ‘This is bullshit.”

  “Complete and utter.”

  “I’ll tell mother, she’ll make sure he rescinds his statements. No matter how mad she’s ever been at you, you’re still her son.”

  Dax shook his head and took a deep breath. “Honestly, it’s a bit freeing.”

  “Freeing? To be a man with no name?”

  “Now the pressure is off. I can go where I want without worrying about the fallback it will have on you, Mariana, or Theodore.”

  “Your actions have never had a fallout on us.”

  “I appreciate that, but we both know father took a lot out on you three because of my leaving. Specifically you and Theodore.”

  Lawson didn’t bother denying it. Amos had made them train harder, longer, and on occasion took his frustrations out on them. “That’s not on you.”

  Dax shrugged. “At least now I no longer have to hear about how I still have time to attend the academy.”

  Lawson rubbed his jaw, a distressed look in his eye. Dax stepped out of the stall and put a hand on his brother’s armored shoulder. “This is not on you to fix. You live your life, marry Corrine, have lots of Guardian babies if that’s what you choose to do, but don’t trouble yourself about me or my life. I’m fine.”

  He leveled his eyes on Dax. “You canno—”

  A piercing scream split the night just before a boom of thunder vibrated the walls of the stable.

  Both men bounded out into the storm just in time to see two cloaked men throw open the front doors.

  “What the hell?” Drawing their swords, Dax and Lawson looked back toward the entrance to the academy.
Two bodies lay strewn in the mud, and the brothers sprinted toward them, the thick mud slowing them down as it gripped their leather boots.

  “Shit, what did this?” Lawson studied the ripped-out throats of the dead Guardians.

  Dax knew the answer, and it was not a pleasant one. He’d seen deaths like these many times over his years as a mercenary. “Werewolves. We need to get inside.”

  “Werewolves?” He looked back toward the gate, which was still closed. “How the hell did we miss that?”

  “They are stealthy, Brother. Some of them are trained killers. Staying in the shadows is what they know best.”

  “We need to alert the rest of the guard.” Lawson began moving toward the gate.

  Dax followed although he wanted nothing more than to get inside and make sure their family was safe.

  Still, he wouldn’t leave Lawson, and there was no way he could open the gate alone.

  They reached the large wooden gates, and after removing the wooden barrier keeping it shut, they gripped the iron handles and pulled. With their feet slipping in the mud, it took a few moments to pull them open enough to peek outside.

  “Shit!” Lawson rushed to the first man laid out on the ground. “His throat’s been torn as well.”

  “We need to get inside, Lawson. Now.” Hand on his sword, Dax peered into the darkness. As far as the eye could see, bodies littered the stone bridge. The werewolves had taken the men out silently, the storm blocking out any noise that might’ve slipped out.

  “We—uh—we need to light the torches. To warn the others!” Lawson stood and headed for the guard post. Dax gripped his shoulder.

  “They’re already dead. We don’t have time for that right now. Who knows how many of those monsters are inside?”

  “Exactly! We need backup!”

  “We are the backup. You see those bodies?” He gestured to the dead scattered on the bridge. “There is no one else, and Cambria is too far to see the warning torches. We need to get inside and hope there are others fighting inside.”

  He could see the battle play out on his brother’s face—to follow procedure or do what must be done. Dax saw the resolution in Lawson’s eyes when he finally nodded.

  “Let’s go get these bastards.”

  “Atta-boy.”

  The brothers raced toward the academy, heavy rain pouring down on them and pooling in the dirt. Dax’s heart thundered, a familiar feeling, only this time it was laced with fear.

  Other battles he’d raced toward, he’d only been worried about himself and his mission. Now, he had an entire family trapped inside stone walls that were possibly crawling with monsters of the night.

  Dax ripped open the heavy door and came face to face with a wide-eyed Guardian just before blood spurted from his mouth and he crumpled to the ground.

  A creature with blood-red eyes stood behind him, a mouthful of blood spilling out when he grinned and lunged toward Dax.

  Dax raised his sword and dodged a throwing knife—the creature’s favored weapon other than their fangs—and sliced out with his blade, removing the thing’s head.

  It rolled to the side, and Dax took in the scene before him. His brother faced off with another vamp while four armored Guardians fought werewolves or men donning black armor.

  A werewolf crept from the back room, eyes targeting one of the Guardian’s backs, so Dax raced toward him, driving his sword down into the monster’s spine just as he was about to pounce.

  “Thanks!” the Guardian called with a glance before driving his blade down into the thing’s throat between an open space of the black armor his foe wore.

  The thing stumbled long enough for another guardian to remove its head just below the helmet.

  “What the hell is going on?” asked the Guardian Dax saved.

  “I have no fucking clue.”

  With one last swing of his sword, Lawson killed the vampire and joined Dax and the four other Guardians.

  “Where is everyone?”

  “Taken down to the ceremony room. There’s an escape tunnel below.”

  “When did they come in?” Lawson asked, wiping sweat from his forehead.

  “Bastards crept in from the windows and the front door. They’d taken out nearly half our guards before we even realized they were here.”

  “That was damn fast,” Dax commented. “Which means they were organized.” He’d only been in the stable half an hour. For these creatures to make it past the gate, into the academy, and take out half the guards in that time meant they were on a mission, and this wasn’t just a random attack.

  “You’re telling me.”

  “You cleared the upstairs?” Dax glanced up the dark stairwell.

  “We haven’t made it that far. We assumed they got everyone out, but we were on our way to do one last check when we ran into these assholes.” He kicked the body of a werewolf with his boot.

  “We’ll clear up if you guys take the back hall,” Lawson offered, and the Guardian nodded once before disappearing.

  Creeping up the stairs, Dax growled low in his throat at the sight of a woman and two children lying in pools of their own blood on the stairs. So the things aren’t just after Guardians.

  “Who would do such a thing?” His face pale, Lawson stared down, wide-eyed and horrified at the sight. Dax hoped his brother wasn’t about to pass out.

  “Listen,” Dax said sternly, placing his hand on his brother’s armor. “These creatures will pay for what they’re doing here, but you have to stay focused.”

  “How much death have you seen?” Lawson asked, his voice hollow.

  Dax clenched his jaw. “Far too much, Brother. War is ugly, and I imagine the reality is nothing like what they teach you.”

  Lawson swallowed hard and gripped the hilt of his sword tighter.

  “You good?”

  “Yeah. Let’s go.”

  They bounded up the rest of the stairs—taking two at a time—until they reached the top.

  Heart pounding in his chest and adrenaline surging through his veins, Dax ran, his legs going as fast as they could for the banquet room where his family had been.

  He threw open the doors and ran inside. Tables and chairs were overturned, the feast strewn across the room. Blood splattered the walls, and Dax ran to the first corpse, a Guardian in armor whose throat had been ripped out just like the others.

  “Werewolves,” Dax murmured, studying the bite marks. “Just like the ones outside.”

  “What the hell is going on?” Lawson asked breathlessly, moving to check another Guardian corpse. His color had returned, and Dax had to admit he was impressed. For a man who’d never seen real combat, Lawson was handling it well. Especially considering they weren’t only fighting for their own lives; but for the lives of their family and everyone else trapped inside.

  “I don’t know. Vampires and werewolves typically don’t run together.”

  “This is an attack on the realm,” Lawson said, eyes widening. “They are trying to overthrow us.”

  Lawson could very well be right, or it could be the magickal realm was tired of the Guardians slaughtering its people. Either way, innocents were paying the price in blood, and that was not something he would stand for. “We need to find our family.”

  Lawson got to his feet, and the two brothers ran into the hall, nearly crashing into a woman running straight toward them.

  “Corrine!” Lawson called, and she stumbled into him. Her face was blood- and tear-streaked, the front of her gown ripped, baring a deep scratch on her abdomen.

  “Lawson! Thank God!” she cried out and buried her face in his chest. “They came in, we didn’t know what was happening. The Guardians—those things just started killing them!” Her body shook, and Dax leaned down to get a closer look at her face. “We need to know where the others are.”

  She aimed her eyes at his. “The Guardians took them.”

  “To the ceremonial room?” Dax confirmed, and Corrine nodded.

  “They had me too,
but Oliver—”

  Her voice dropped, and Dax cursed. “Where is Oliver?”

  “D-d-d-dead,” she stammered. “They killed him.”

  “Fuck!” Dax gripped the hilt of his sword more tightly. “We need to get down there. Make sure the others got out.”

  “Agreed. Corrine, it seems they’ve cleared most of these rooms already. Hide in here and we’ll come get you when we rescue everyone else,” Lawson instructed.

  “You’re leaving me?” Eyes wide, she regarded them both with terror. “Please don’t leave me.”

  Lawson cupped her face. “We have to go, please stay put and you will be safe. If we run into any more creatures, you will be a distraction.”

  She stared at him a moment longer before finally nodding.

  “Let’s go.” Dax headed back for the stairs to take them down to where he’d witnessed his brother take his vows.

  “Think they made it out?” Lawson whispered as they moved down the stairs.

  “It’s possible.” But Dax wasn’t convinced. There was too much blood. If anything, it was more likely the Guardians were killed in the process of trying to rescue the families, their bodies dragged down below for the monsters to feast on.

  And he feared his brother was right. If you wanted to flip the power in the direction of magick, slaughtering not only the guardian trainees but the families as well was a hell of a way to start.

  4

  The heavy tang of copper hung in the air, and the closer they got to the training field, the more saturated the air around became.

  Blood coated the stone stairs, and the area below them was completely silent. Until it wasn’t.

  Screams, hundreds or perhaps thousands of them, echoed down the hall, and together the brothers picked up the pace, no longer concerned with their enemy hearing their movements.

  They emerged into a blood-soaked room. Armored bodies lay, broken and wide-eyed, everywhere and the creatures—hundreds of them—had the survivors cornered. The few remaining Guardians fought valiantly defending the families, but they were losing—and vastly outnumbered.

  Vampires and werewolves stalked toward their prey, sick smiles on their blood-smeared faces. A few dozen men in black armor, hands gripping the hilts of large swords, turned toward them.

 

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