Blurred Nights (1st in the Blurred Trilogy)

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Blurred Nights (1st in the Blurred Trilogy) Page 18

by Kallysten


  "But if we get out of here,” she continued after a moment, “if even one of us makes it out, we can come back. We know where the breach is now."

  There was another possibility, of course. Simon might make it back to the camp. She couldn't make herself mention that hope, however; it felt too much like one of those wishes that can't come true if they are voiced.

  She stood and slowly stretched, raising her arms up. The scar that marred her stomach had been throbbing for a little while. The drugs had long since faded from her system. She ground her teeth together and pushed back the pain. She would hurt much more if she let the healed injury stop her from fighting her best. She lowered her arms again and pulled her sword from its scabbard. It glinted in the ethereal light coming from the breach. Sammy stood as well. He winced and shifted his weight to his good leg before gingerly touching the tightening-bandage Kate had applied to his wound. All it did was slow down blood loss. Sammy's fingers came back bloody. He wiped them on his pants. His expression hardened.

  "Dead for dead,” he said, his voice gruff from pain and repressed fear, “I'd rather die fighting than bleed to death hiding here."

  "Me, too,” Lou said very low.

  Daniel sighed again, and finally turned to look at Kate. His eyes scrutinized her. “How are you?"

  She frowned at the unexpected question. “How am I? What do you mean?"

  "The three of us are hurt. You've got the best chance to go back to the camp and—"

  "Wait!” She stared at him through wide eyes. “That's not what I meant!"

  "But it makes sense,” Lou said. “We can keep them occupied and give you as much of a head start as we can. If you run—"

  "But I don't want to run!"

  Daniel stood from his crouching position and gave her a mildly annoyed look. “That vamp has been a bad influence on you. Since when do you question orders?"

  Her stomach tightened, and this time it had nothing to do with her wound. She remembered what Blake had said about dying without regrets. She wished it had been true for her, but her dreams from the past couple of days had left her with too many unresolved ‘what if’ questions—questions that really weren't helping her focus at that moment.

  "It's got nothing to do with—"

  A savage howl resounded through the fog. They all tensed and turned toward the street, expecting demons to rush at them. Kate frowned. It had sounded like...

  "Blake?” she murmured.

  The next second, the demon alarm started blaring over them, strident and deafening. It drowned the sounds of fighting as soon as they started. She didn't think twice. She ran out, her sword raised, and joined her wordless yell to the battle.

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  Chapter 20

  For the first few minutes, Marc's plan worked. Five demons entered the building one by one, and he managed to shut the reinforced metal door and barricade it, locking the rest of the demons out. He then joined the fight, and together the six soldiers left in the camp got rid of the first wave of demon attack. It was when Marc looked up from the body of his dead opponent that he first realized things weren't turning so good after all. All demons had been killed, yes, but three humans were bleeding, the heady smell of their blood mixing to the more bitter one of the demons'. Worse, the door, battered by an axe, was about to cave in.

  "Spread out,” he advised the fighters. “Keep in teams of two. We can do this."

  Uncertain nods answered him. It hadn't been an hour yet since Mike had called Claremont for reinforcements. At the rhythm things went, they would arrive too late. Marc was determined to do all he could, but the odds weren't good. If only Blake had been there...

  He had resisted the impulse until now, but he gave in. Closing his eyes to focus, he searched inside himself for the awareness of Blake's existence. The turning of a new vampire created a bond between Sire and Childe, a bloodline. Only death could sever it, and doing so it told the survivor of the other's fate. The bond, however, had another use. Marc had never done this before, but his Sire had done it to him, calling him back when he needed him. In his mind, he seized the bloodline that linked him to Blake and pulled at it. Wherever he was, Blake would feel the tug to return to Marc. He might not answer it, but at least Marc had tried.

  He opened his eyes again when the soldiers around him gasped. Massive demon hands grabbed the edges of the opening the axe had carved in and pulled, tearing the door apart with a screeching roar. In its haste to come in, the demon didn't fully destroy the door, so that it had to contort itself to pass through the hole in the metal. Marc's eyes narrowed, and he lunged forward. If he could kill this one before it was fully in, it might slow down the others a little.

  Holding on tight to the bloodline, he yelled and slashed his sword at the demon.

  * * * *

  Just as Blake pulled his sword free from the body of his first kill, two things happened. A flash of motion just steps away from him caught his eye, accompanied with a shout that the demon alarm drowned almost completely. The scent, though, was unmistakable, and he rushed forward to fight by Kate's side with sheer joy. She was alive. Not only that, but she had joined his desperate attack.

  At the same time, he tried to ignore the sudden pull inside his mind and chest. Southeast of where Blake fought, Marc was calling for him. He had never felt anything like this before, such a compulsion to drop everything and go to his Sire. How bad could things be at the camp for Marc to even resort to this? Part of him was glad that, despite everything, Marc would think of calling for his help. Blake couldn't give it at that moment, though, not when he had his own battle to fight.

  A second demon fell under his blows. Through the dense, drifting fog, he saw glimpses of three, maybe four more fighters around him. From his estimations, maybe a dozen demons were guarding the breach. That was all he had been able to count before rushing forward to fight. He hoped his distraction had been enough to allow Simon to get closer to the breach under the cover of a glamour. He also hoped that they'd be able to buy him enough time.

  Maybe fifty yards away, the breach gleamed as brightly as it had when he had first caught sight of it hours earlier. It seemed like it had been days rather than hours. Its brightness was enough to shine through the fog that appeared to drift through it. Maybe ten feet high and half that in width, it seemed to have been torn through the fabric of reality itself. The ragged edges of the roughly oval opening seemed to flap with the feeble wind. Despite its brightness, it was hard to tell what lay beyond it; a sheer but blurry veil appeared to drape over it. There didn't seem to be movement on the other side, however, and that was good. The last thing they needed now was for reinforcements to surge out of the breach.

  "Blake! Behind you!"

  He whirled at Kate's warning, blindly slashing his sword with both hands. It met metal, and sparks flew, illuminating the demon's snout. He hit again and again. The fog was slowly thinning around him. At his back, the light emanating from the breach flickered.

  * * * *

  The building reeked of death. Marc passed a hand over his face, wiping the blood from his eyes. He instinctively licked his fingers as he turned on his heel to find his next prey. He grimaced as the bitterness hit his tongue. Some of it was his, but mostly it was demons’ blood. They had realized, at about the same time that they had torn the door off its hinges, that he was the most dangerous of their adversaries. They had been avoiding him since, focusing instead of the weaker humans he fought with.

  Mike and a comrade battled three at once, barely managing to stay alive, let alone do any damage to the demons. They were tiring under the relentless assault—but then, they were all tired after fighting for so long. Grinding his teeth against the protests of his wounded thigh, Marc surged forward, his sword already raised. He focused his blows on one of the three demons until the beast growled its annoyance and broke away from the two humans to turn on him.

  As he fought the pig-faced demon, he tried not to wonder where Blake was and whethe
r he was listening to the call. Marc had not let go of the bloodline since he had seized it, but with each passing second, he doubted more and more that Blake would come back. Why would he, he thought bitterly. What had Marc ever offered him that would bring him back?

  Over the clash of the battle, he heard the roar of an engine. His head whipped to the entrance, hoping to see ... Blake? Reinforcements? Numbers would have been better at this point, but he couldn't help hoping for a single silhouette in that doorway.

  A flash of metal on the edge of his vision jerked him back into his fight. He rolled away from the descending blade. His thigh pressed against the floor, and he groaned as pain lanced through his body. Just a little longer, he thought, frantic, as he forced himself back to his feet. Just one more demon...

  * * * *

  Only ragged scraps of fog still clung to the street. The alarm had abruptly stopped ringing moments earlier, as though dying with one of the demons. Panting, Kate wiped sweat from her forehead, then gripped her sword with both hands again. She shifted her feet on the uneven asphalt to steady her stance and waited for the next attack. She didn't have enough energy left to keep throwing herself at demons. She didn't know how Blake could do it still. His left arm hung limp at his side, blood soaking his jacket's sleeve and trickling from his fingers, and yet he kept rushing at the four demons left, needling them before pulling back, drawing them away from Simon and his two bodyguards.

  Five minutes into the fight, a flash of blue light had traversed the fog, lightning-fast but soundless. Just feet away from Kate, Blake had finished putting a demon to death before rushing toward the breach. Through her own frenzied attack, Kate had been sure he would jump through, for a moment, and a fist of ice closing over her heart had spurred her on. She had finished her attacker and run after Blake, only to find him guarding Simon. She had no idea when or how Simon had come to the middle of the fight, but she knew, without needing to think about it, what he was doing.

  She had held her position ever since, guarding Simon from attacks and disruptions. Blake, on the other hand, had returned to the fight when Daniel had joined them. They were all just buying more time for Simon's spell. She realized that, but with each passing moment, Kate's hope grew that, maybe, just maybe...

  "It's just us left,” Daniel said. He sounded out of breath and in pain. “How much time, Simon?"

  Kate glanced at Daniel. He should have known better than to talk to their mage and distract him. How desperate was he to risk interrupting the spell? Simon, however, didn't seem to have heard, and he kept chanting under his breath. Returning to facing the demons, Kate flinched. Three of them surrounded Blake about fifty yards away while the fourth one stalked toward her, limping. Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she stepped forward. Better to keep the fight away from Simon if she could.

  * * * *

  "It's over. The last ones just ran off into the woods."

  Marc nodded at the soldier's words, grateful. His sword slipped from his bloodied fingers and fell with a resounding clang. He let his knees buckle beneath him and joined it on the ground. In a minute, he'd stand again, help the medic if he could, thank the reinforcements, count how many demons had died under their blows—and how many members of the squad had survived. In just a minute, he would do what needed to be done. Until then, though, he'd lie down and rest.

  It was over. The price was hefty, but they had won this fight. And still, he couldn't make himself let go of the bloodline.

  * * * *

  "Two. Just two more. Just two."

  Blake muttered the words over and over, burying his pain, tiredness and worry beneath them. He would never have believed he would last so long. Spurred on by Kate's presence and the unrelenting call of his Sire, he had fought harder and better than he ever had before. But then, no battle had ever mattered as much as this one did. Fights had never been anything more than games until now, where each move was the equivalent of a pawn meandering over an intricate board. Now that Blake understood how it could be so much more, the path was straight and unmistakable in front of him. He had no more time for sidesteps and detours.

  The two demons a few steps in front of him grunted at each other. Blake had no idea what they were arguing about, but it couldn't possibly be good. He glanced at Kate on the other side of them. She had just pulled her sword from the last demon she had killed and seemed to be hesitating. Her braid had long ago come undone, and her disheveled hair framed her face, giving her a wild appearance. Even from where he stood, Blake could hear the resounding beating of her heart with each huffing breath she drew. She kept her sword pointed at the ground, her shoulders slumped. She was exhausted. Even so, she took an unsteady step toward the demons and him, then a second one. Despite himself, Blake grinned. If they survived this, he would kiss her—and this time, he wouldn't ask for her permission.

  His grin faded when the taller of the two demons whacked at him without warning. Drawing from his last reserves, Blake stumbled to the side and out of harm's way just in time. At this new angle, he could see the thin silhouette stalking toward Simon and Daniel, unbeknownst to them. He hadn't known where Jen had hidden herself until now, or why she hadn't joined the fight earlier, but her goal seemed all too clear.

  "Kate! Protect Simon!"

  The demon took another shot at him. Blake crouched and rolled further away. He risked a glance at Kate and was relieved to see she was now hurrying back toward Simon, calling Daniel's name to warn him of the impending attack. Blake growled as he pushed himself back to his feet. If there was one kill he would have liked to have to his name, it was Jen's. The thought sent a burst of energy through him. He launched himself forward and swung his sword at the demon's neck. He didn't strike with enough force to sever its head, but blood spurted forward. Dropping its axe, the demon gripped the wound with both hands. Even then, the blood continued to gurgle until it fell, face forward. Blake tried to rush past it to get to the other fight, where Kate and Daniel fought back Jen with all they had left. The last demon however didn't let him go. It lashed out and, taking Blake by surprise, hit his already injured left arm. Blake's vision blurred when he felt the bone crack. He tumbled down, barely managing to protect his arm from further harm. Any more pain, he thought, grinding his teeth, and he might pass out.

  Just as he hit the ground, he caught a glimpse of a silhouette jumping through the breach. He wanted to shout at Jen to come back, but the words died in his throat. The space around the breach fired up with a light brighter than the sun. Deafening thunder rolled over the street. When Blake's vision cleared again, everything was dark. It took him a couple of seconds to understand why. The breach was closed. Without its light, night had fallen on the street again.

  A yell brought him back to his fight. The last demon was standing over him, but its head was turned to where the breach had been, just moments ago. Acting through instinct alone, Blake thrust his sword up, plunging beneath the demon's armor. The demon's shout died with it. It started toppling over, the metal spikes on its armor plunging toward Blake. With a groan of effort, Blake pushed it to the side where it lay next to another demon. And then, it was truly over.

  Silence covered the street, almost unreal after the clash of steel and clamor of magic. Blake's ears buzzed, as though trying to cover the absence of noise. He sat up but didn't try to get to his feet quite yet. He didn't think he could stand without immediately getting better reacquainted with the ground. A cry of joy rang over the corpses of the fallen fighters and humans. Blake looked toward the last three members of the squad. Simon jumped up and down, shouting his pride.

  "I did it! I really did it!"

  He only stopped when, next to him, Daniel fell to his knees. He leaned toward him, asking a worried question, but Daniel only shook his head before breaking down into what could have been fits of laughter or crying, Blake couldn't tell. Kate left the two of them and, with slow, limping steps, trudged back toward Blake. He used his sword as a crutch to stand, and let out a small cry when
the movement jostled his left arm.

  "You're OK?” she asked, only four yards away now.

  He slid Seneca into the scabbard on his back. Every inch of his body protested against the effort. “I will be. You?"

  She imitated him and put her sword away. Blood, sweat, and remnants of camouflage make-up marred her face. She had never been so beautiful. “I'm ... fine. Better than fine."

  Careful fingers cupped the back of his head and pulled him to her. She barely brushed her lips to his, as though afraid to hurt him. He smiled against her mouth.

  "I'm not made of glass, you know."

  He raised his arms to embrace her and show her what a proper kiss was like—and remembered too late the mangled state of his left arm. The dull pain that throbbed through his entire left side flared. He gasped, doubling in pain.

  "Fuck!"

  Kate let out a dry laugh. “I give you a little kiss and already you want to get in my pants. You're not losing any time, are you?"

  With a pained smile, Blake shrugged his good shoulder. “No time to lose, is more like it."

  She shook her head but she was still smiling. Delicately, she took his right hand in her left. Both their hands were bloodied. They stuck together. Blake didn't mind one bit.

  "I've missed you,” she said, quieter now. “I'm happy you're here. Really, really happy!"

  She ended with a spark of bright laughter that lit up the night.

  Walking back to the truck was an ordeal only made easier by Kate's hand holding his tightly. After all these nights spent wandering through the labyrinth-like streets of the dilapidated town, the absence of the fog made everything simpler, and they found their way back easily. Simon babbled the entire time, recounting his magic feat with unnecessary details. Although Blake wanted to tell him to be quiet, with the ready-made excuse that they didn't want to attract any demon left in the City, he said nothing. Simon had earned his moment of glory. He seemed disappointed when Daniel, Kate and Blake all climbed into the back, leaving the driving to him, but they could still hear his excited babble from the back through a narrow opening in the cabin.

 

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