by Harold Wall
asked, irritation rising with every step he took. He ignored me.
Instead he faced Rashel, Quinn and the shapeshifter and said in a voice as polite as possible, "Excuse us for a moment," and then he grabbed my wrist, turned and started to pull me out of the tent.
Shock rippled through me and it didn't occur to me to fight back until we were outside the tent. "Let go Miles!" I cried, pulling on my hand. His grip tightened instantly. "Seriously
Miles, let go of me!"
Miles whirled around, his face filled with anger, "Stop it Maggie, stop it right now—we need to talk and I'm tired of you trying to get out of it." I stopped struggling instantly and he
finished dragging me into an empty tent. He released me and closed the flap, taking a deep breath in. Finally he whirled around, "What is going on here, Maggie?"
"What do you mean?" I demanded, confused—had I done anything to offend him? Okay, maybe rip out that guy's throat in front of him, but still.
Miles shook his head, "You're not the same," He insisted.
"Of course I'm not, what did you expect? I'm a freaking vampire now Miles."
"And I'm a shapeshifter, but I haven't changed—maybe I've gotten a little more adventurous, but besides that I've been the same…"
"Changing into a shapeshifter isn't exactly the same as being changed into a vampire Miles," I finally snapped, "Don't you get it? I have to drink blood to survive! You don't have to
do anything to survive—if you wanted, you don't even have to change and you wouldn't be affected! I've spent six months all alone in an unfamiliar place with the people who set
this whole operation up in the first place! Heck, I've even barely escaped getting raped, and I escape and instead of feeling safe, like everything's going to go back to normal, I feel
embarrassed and guilty and downright ashamed!" I whirled away from him, trying to keep the tears from falling down my face.
"Why do you feel that way?" Miles asked quietly.
"Because look at me, Miles!" I faced him again, indicating myself with my hands, "I'm a Night Person now—I had to freaking drink your blood, my own brother's blood to survive!
I've sunken to a new low and not only that but I've lost Rogue in the process! And it's all my fault!"
"It's not you're…"
"Yes it is, Miles—I could have gone back like you told me to, but I didn't. I could have stayed and protected her, but instead…and now we don't know if either Delos or Rogue is even
alive!" Miles obviously looked at a loss—he hadn't been prepared to deal with this, and he didn't have the experience to make up for his unpreparation. I sighed, "Look Miles—I
know you don't want me to go—but I was the one who lost Rogue in the first place, and I'd also like to rescue my soulmate. Please don't deny me of this." Miles stared at me for a
long moment as though he wanted to say something but finally he sighed and nodded.
I found myself in a position I never thought I'd be in again. I crouched in the trees that resided on one of the hills that surrounded Alec's castle, looking down upon it as the first
rays of sun shone upon it. We'd set out early in the morning, moving through the dark woods at a slow pace while Miles scouted ahead, looking for the castle. When he found it, he
then proceeded to lead us to it.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Miles asked his voice next to my ear. I kept my gaze on the castle, my stomach clenching and unclenching with nerves. I slowly turned to look
at him, my expression as blank as possible.
"Of course I'm not—but then again, I don't think anyone really is." I turned back, squinting my eyes to try to get a better look at the protecting wall of the castle. Although I couldn't
see anyone besides a few guards, I couldn't help but wonder if secretly, behind that wall, if they were ready for our attack, waiting as anxiously as we were for it.
Questions swarmed in my mind—what if we were walking into a trap? What if we lost this battle? What if I died before this was over?
More importantly, what if someone I loved died? And could I face that possibility?
I shuddered away from the question instantly, refusing to let the pictures of my brother—he got Jeanne to stay behind—Rogue…Delos, surface into my mind. I didn't even want
Rashel or Quinn, who had treated me with hospitality, to get hurt.
I was pulled out of my worries by a large hand covering my small one. "I've got your back," Miles whispered, giving my hand a squeeze.
I looked down at our entwined hands and squeezed back, a smile forming over my face. It was moments like these that I was reminded of my deep affection for my brother—we might get into disagreements, and we didn't always understand each other, but we still had each other's back, no matter what. "Let's do this," I whispered as Rashel moved into my
line of vision.
Rashel looked at me for a moment before she turned to the rest of the army, her expression hardened and she nodded before she whirled and faced the castle, pulling out her twofooted
wooden samurai sword.
And then we advanced.
It wasn't like the way movies depicted war at all—no one uttered a sound as we as quietly as possible ran down through the saltymist blown in from the sea. There were no battle
cries, no bombexplosions, icechilling rain to set the mood—it was simply as any other ordinary day. The difference was that we just happened to brandish weapons. It was like a
dangerous game of hideandgoseek.
And there were no cries of alarm from the castle, I thought with amazement; if this were a movie, the other side would be scrambling into formation…
Cries of alarm suddenly sprang up from the castle wall.
Well, I thought grimly as we approached the wall, there they go.
Miles, who'd kept pace with me the entire time, now sped up and stopped in front of the wall, whirling to face me. He cupped and intertwined his hands together and held them
towards me. "JUMP," he cried.
I took a glance up the 20foot wall—the old Maggie would have hesitated and thought her brother had gone nuts. I still thought my brother was a bit nuts, but I didn't hesitate.
I yanked my wooden sword out of my sheath and leaped up, landing onefooted in Miles's hands, my leg muscles coiled. A split second later as miles thrusted me up, I pushed
down, using as much leg muscle to shoot me as high as possible.
And then I was soaring up the stone wall, the wind rushing through my hair as I cleared the top, my grip tightening on the sword. Still in the air, my eyes scanned the inside of the
castle walls, noting what I was up against.
There were a few guards on the wall's platform, running frantically to positions. Other guards were scrambling behind the wall at ground level, trying to get mobilized with weapons.
As I started to fall back to the wall's ledge, my eyes caught what I needed to get to—the pulley system to open the large wooden gate that blocked the army from entrance into the
castle.
I landed gracefully on the wall's ledge, landing in front of a shocked vampire guard who regarded me with wide eyes.
"Good morning," I greeted as I raised my sword and thrusted without thinking into the vampire's chest.
The vampire's body immediately stiffened and it stared at me like a deer in headlights until the light faded from its eyes and his body went slack, dropping from my sword like a
rag doll, blood splattering onto the wooden platform.
Adrenaline rushed through my body as I stepped down onto the platform, my eyes starting at my bloodstained sword.
Holy crud, I thought, I just killed a man who hadn't done a thing to me…
It was right—the one thing movies got right was the law of killorbekilled. If I didn't kill, I, Circle Daybreak, Delos and the slaves would all fall subject to the enemy.
I whirled around in the direction of the pulley with that thought c
lear in my mind. Protect those I love, I kept thinking as another vampire rushed at me, his sword drawn.
We ran full on at one another, stopping only when our swords clashed against one another. He pressed against me with a strong force that made my muscles start to quiver, but I
forced myself to keep pushing till I'd pushed his sword against his chest. The vampire grunted, indicating that he was starting to weaken under pressure.
I chose that moment to slide my sword out from under his and dodge to the left when his sword came crashing down.
He stumbled, leaving himself open and I took that chance to penetrate his chest with a hard thrust through his back. I yanked the sword back out a second later when I was sure it
had gotten his heart and bolted to the pulley.
Miles—who had undoubtedly flown up—was already there when I arrived, slowly pulling on one side of the pulley. "Help me out here," He grunted when I was close enough. I
quickly surveyed my surroundings, satisfied to find the majority of the guards concentrating on the outside and then turned my attention back to my brother, my hands grasping one
of the spokes.
We both pulled together, using our supernatural strength to pull the pulley slowly, the gate groaning as it opened just as slowly. I could faintly hear shouts of alarm coming from the
guards, but I paid them no attention. The main goal right then was to get the gate open so that the army had free reign of the castle.
We pulled for a long while until finally the gate was open. Miles had me hold the pulley in place while he fetched the rope and started to tie knots that only he, a frequent climber,
knew how to do in order to keep it from lowering the gate. When he was done, I whirled around, my eyes scanning around.
Guards had started to come up the steps to get to the platform in order to stop us, but already Circle Daybreak members were there, fighting them off and keeping them distracted —man they worked fast, I thought in admiration. "Someone needs to guard the pulley until everyone is in the castle," I told Miles, crouching and getting into fighting stance, "You go
and help fight and I'll…"
"No you won't," Miles interrupted. I glanced over my shoulder at him, my eyes narrowed in disbelief. Was he still trying to argue with me? But the look on Miles face told me this
time it would take force to make him do what I wanted. "You need to go and find Delos and Rogue, not waste your time guarding the pulley." He pulled a sword from his sheath at
his side, "I know how to fight—I'll guard it and then join back up with you."
I measured him with my eyes, trying to find a weakness as an excuse to get him to go and fight, but I found none. After a moment I sighed, "You take care of yourself Miles," I told
him, reaching over the pulley to hug him tightly, "I love you, big bro," I whispered into his ear. Miles gave me a tight squeeze.
"Love you too, little sis," he whispered back, "Now go kick some butt,"
I dodged and ran through the corridors, avoiding as many confrontations with guards as possible. It was sort of like a video game, when you're trying to reach the end of the level
so you take short cuts and skip over bad guys in order to get to your destination faster. Of course there were moments when I was forced to stop and fight—twice now I'd come
close to being staked, but the thought of Delos waiting for me spurred me on to keep fighting.
But that also meant that I was quickly tiring, something the movies never showed. In the movies, the heroine and hero never got tired—injured, maybe, but not tired. They always
fought fiercely without seeming to break a sweat.
But I was quickly finding that that wasn't the case—my muscles were screaming at me to stop and rest, just for a little while, but I kept pressing forward, afraid that if I stopped for
even a millisecond, my life could end in an ironically sad ending. Keep….going; I kept thinking to myself, you're almost…there….keep….
And then I turned the last corner and the door to the dungeon was in plain sight…
As well as a particularly big, strong guard, who was probably a shapeshifter.
I stopped the second he caught sight of me, his eyes wide with surprise before a look of sheer anticipation crossed his face as he started to change, his face starting to pull back
and his hands starting to form into big hairy paws with large, dangerous looking claws.
This wasn't a fight for a wooden sword that much I knew now. I quickly sheathed my sword and crouched, my fangs starting to grow and my finger nails lengthening into menacing
claws—not as big as the shapeshifters, but menacing enough.
Attack now, my instincts were screaming at me, he's weaker when he's still changing, attack now! I was always one to listen to my instincts—which was probably why I got into so much trouble in the first place—so I quickly obeyed, springing from my crouch and charging forward.
My instincts were right this time—the shapeshifter seemed surprised by my headon attack and didn't try to defend itself as I launched myself at him, digging my claws into its furry
skin and sinking my fangs immediately into its exposed neck, drawing blood into my mouth.
The shapeshifter roared in protest and jerked around with such a force that it threw me off, sending me flying back onto the ground. I shook my head to clear the wave of dizziness
that had suddenly washed over me and jumped back onto my feet a moment before the shapeshifter launched itself at me, its mouth filled with large, sharplooking teeth that was
aimed at my own neck. I quickly threw myself to the left, barely having time to regain my balance before I heard the shapeshifter hit the floor.
I whirled to face it the moment it was back on its feet, its eyes filled with hate towards me as it launched at me again. This time I dove under it, feeling the air whoosh over me as
it went by, and hearing the BANG of the door as it hit it.
Now was my chance, I knew as I stood up, putting all my energy into my next attack.
Without really planning my next move, I brought my foot off the ground and swung it, putting all my weight into the attack into a roundhouse kick which landed squarely on the
shapeshifters head. The shapeshifter, in return, was knocked hard back into the wooden door, which because it was already cracked from him throwing himself into it a moment
before, broke under his weight and sent him crashing down the wooden steps.
I watched, breathing hard as the shapeshifter rolled, hearing the snap of broken bones with each roll. Finally it stopped at the bottom of the stairs and even I could tell from up here
that by the way its head was bent that it had broken its neck. I watched it for a moment nevertheless, making sure that it didn't move. When it didn't move, I sighed and slowly
started to descend the stairs, my mind turning back to what I might find down there.
About halfway down, and still out of sight of the prison, I stopped. What if he wasn't there? What if Alec had decided to kill them both, and this whole thing was all for nothing? The
thought made my stomach clench in despair and tears started to spring to my eyes, but I held them back.
If they were dead, either one of them, I would make this battle worthwile; I'd kill Alec myself. The resolution might have been impulsive, but I knew I'd follow through on it, even
if it killed me.
So slowly, ever so slowly, I started down the cold stone steps, my breath caught in my throat. At the bottom I finally was in sight of the prison, but although I could see it plainly, my mind wouldn't register the way I wanted it to.
Right in front of me was Delos and Rogue, Delos in front as though to protect Rogue from whatever had killed the shapeshifter. But he'd gone rigid, his eyes wide as he caught sight
of me. I could hear his heavy breathing from where I stood, while I myself couldn't breathe at all.
My insides were melting, all the
emotions from the past six months trying to surface all at once and I did my best to hold them back. But I could feel the tears start to fall down my
face nevertheless as I started to stumble forward. "Delos," I was rasping breathlessly and I started to break into a run, my heart wrenching with unbelievable longing.
I reached him in no time, my arms—which unlike his, were small enough to get through the bars comfortably and quickly—wrapped around his neck while his fingers grabbed at my
face gently. We pulled towards one another, and our mouths greedily found one another, and we started kissing each other fervently. Each time we pulled away to breath, Delos moaned my name, "Maggie…oh Maggie…I…are you…why are you…?" I kept kissing him, everything flying out of my mind. For that moment, there was no battle going on, there were
no bars between us—it was just him and I, our lips meeting and separating and meeting again, my fingers tangled in his hair and his fingers tracing every bit of my face.
But eventually my mind started to remember why I was down here and what was going on upstairs. "Delos," He kissed me again, passionately, and I kissed him back, but I latched
onto the thoughts so that they wouldn't run away from me again. When he pulled away, I continued, "I need…" kiss, "to get…" kiss, "You out…" kiss.
"It can wait," Delos whispered back, his voice as vulnerable as I'd ever heard it—but then again I was sure mine was too.
He kissed me again, but this time I pulled away, "Delos, we're going to have to continue this later," Delos sighed, but nevertheless he stopped kissing me like a mad man, but his
fingers still traced my face. I brushed his hair back from his forehead.
"You're right," He whispered, but his eyebrows furrowed as he took another good look at me, and I instantly knew what he was seeing—all the changes that came with being a
vampire, something I knew he'd see right off. "But why, may I ask, are you a vampire?" His voice was starting to fill with anger, indicating that he already had a pretty good idea of
how I got this way. And he wasn't happy about it.
"If I wasn't a vampire, I would have died that night six months ago," I whispered, "I'll explain more later; where are the keys?"
