by Mary Hughes
“You mean tracking me, don’t you?” My eyes stung. “That attack at the cop shop. You picked something off me. They were tracking me.”
His jaw worked. “You, me, it doesn’t matter. It’s going to be hard enough to shake those uniformed shadow goons. An alal may be impossible.”
“What is an alal?” Rey asked from the back. “Greyson is terrified of it.”
Ryker’s hands were tight on the wheel as he swung us around another corner. No battle mask, but his eyes were a burning black and the tips of sharp fangs flashed as he spoke. Humanish and only barely. “A psychopathic bastard who drains an ancient vampire’s life force.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“It isn’t. A Soul Stealer is bad enough. He gets power, but at a cost. He drinks all the ancient’s blood to absorb turbocharged healing and strength. Problem is, the older the vampire, the more energy and power in the blood. Ancient blood burns. Drinking it all at once? Most youngsters are driven insane.”
“The ogre back there didn’t seem insane,” I said. “He seemed pretty focused.”
“Yeah, well, I think Elias is right. He’s an alal—a destroyer.”
“What’s a destroyer?” Rey asked.
“In this case? A vampire who can keep up with us. We can’t count on losing him before we run out of gas. Which means finding a defensible spot as fast as possible.”
“Or hiding,” I said. “Although, who around here would help hide a couple of vampires from an even bigger terror…?” I dribbled off as the obvious conclusion occurred to me. Only one pair fit the bill. Nausea clogged my throat.
My birth parents.
Reluctantly, I said, “Hattie and Race live in Meiers Corners. Half an hour from here. They’ll help.”
“No,” Ryker said immediately. “Race is Alliance. Elias’s crew hates me.”
Of course he argued with me, even now. He’d argue with a cat. “I thought you and Elias were friends. Look, this is hard enough for me. But it’s the only way. Besides, if Elias’s Alliance hates you, wouldn’t they hate the Shadow Lord who drugged and abducted him more?”
“The Shadow Lord is real?” Rey said. “Oh, Greyson, I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you.”
I glanced back to catch Elias leaning his silver-threaded black head on her shoulder.
“It’s okay, Rey. Sorry they hurt your house.”
She patted his hair. “We’ll get through this.”
A strange uncertainty churned in my gut as I blinked back at the pair of them. Elias was an ancient vampire, strongest of the strong. Yet he really thought he was a harmless human.
This was not what I expected when I’d lit out of Meiers Corners in rage and fear. I’d expected to confront a monster. Fight a decisive battle. Live or die, I’d take the bloodsucker down. Give my parents peace. Make the world safer for little girls like the one I’d been.
But killing a sick man who’d die soon anyway? Yeah, that seemed real noble. Worse, his death would hurt my sister.
Swallowing bile, I shook my head and returned my attention to Ryker. “These guys are going to find us sooner rather than later, king.”
“I’m not the king.”
“You’re my king.”
He glanced at me with both brows arched high.
I’d meant that I’d thought he was the vampire king. Those caustic brows said “my king” had another, more intimate interpretation. My face heated. “Whatever. I’ll deal with that later. Right now, we need help, nearby—and that’s Meiers Corners.”
“I don’t need anyone’s help,” Ryker declared.
“No?” I raised a mirror pair of brows, nearly getting his smug cock right. “Remind me why we’re running at the moment?”
“Smart-ass.” He said it almost fondly.
A rhino’s trumpeted challenge rang behind us, wiping the tiny smile off Ryker’s face and catapulting my stomach into my throat.
“How far away was that?” My ears still weren’t working properly.
“Not far enough.” His jaw clenched. “All right, if it’s the Alliance or nothing, it’s the Alliance. At least they’re honorable. The Destroyer is too close, though.”
Another rhino’s roar seemed to shake the very air. I clenched my hands. Too damned close.
He swerved to the curb and shot the gear lever into park. “You won’t escape him unless I run interference.”
I gaped at him. Damn king. He was going to make himself a target while we got clear.
Sure enough, he barked, “Kat, take the wheel.”
I narrowed my gape to a glare. He might think he could go it alone, but he’d need my help.
Wait. My help? Me, help a bloodsucker? My resolve faded in confusion. It went against everything I believed in. Hell, I’d spent years trying to find and destroy this very vampire.
Yet I wanted to jump out of this car and fight to help him live?
Torturing tridents of hell. The easy decision, the sane decision, was to take the wheel and get out of here. My sister got to live. I got to live. Ryker, alone against the Destroyer and his band of precision fighters…probably not so much.
And that was good, right? I’d get my revenge. My inexplicable attraction to my vampire king would no longer be a problem.
I’d never have to accept some vamps might be different.
My chest tightened. Stars. The first time that heretic thought occurred to me was when I’d discovered my mother had married a bloodsucker. I’d called Ryker as a last resort.
“Ouch,” he’d said. “That kind of betrayal has to hurt.”
He’d understood. Helped me.
“Kat. Take the damned wheel.” His face was un-plated, inhumanly handsome, his eyes still black. Yet there was a fierceness in his expression, a grim determination.
The kind I’d seen in the mirror.
A strength, an intensity that said if tonight’s the night, so be it. I’d die to make the world safer for us humans—and so would he.
Help a bloodsucker?
Hell yes, I am.
“If you’re staying to fight, I am, too.”
His eyes flamed red. “This isn’t a game. They’re after Elias and they’ll kill anyone in their way.” He held my gaze as he commanded, “Drive.”
The force of his compulsion, aimed point-blank at me, rang through my entire being. I sat there, stunned, as he jerked open his door and leaped out.
Stupid, domineering king. Only he could make noble so annoying.
Shaking it off, I barked at Rey, “Take the wheel. Get your friend to Otto’s. Ask for Hattie and Race.” I gave her directions in a few terse words then jumped out my side, yelling, “Damn it, Ryker. I am not leaving you to fight this monster alone!”
He spun toward me. His eyes widened, as if nobody had ever said that to him before.
Behind me, my sister slid into the driver’s seat.
Ryker’s shock bled into anger. He stalked toward me like a tank bent on making me pâté. “Much as I admire your courage, it’s not safe. Kat Kean, you will get back in that vehicle. Now.” By the fire in his eyes and the dark way his words rang in my skull, he’d put every bit of ancient compulsion he had into his command.
“Ryker…whoever the hell.” I stalked right up to him, until our toes touched, and glared up into his red eyes.
He towered over me by more than a foot, the fangs sliding from between his lips shouting that his vampire was wrestling for control.
My primitive awareness came online. Everything about him screamed predator, with me as tender prey. I swallowed, hard.
Rey squealed the car into traffic. I stuffed away my quaking fear. It wasn’t going to do me, him, or my sister any good. I managed a credible return glare. “I’m staying. The only person I trust to keep monsters off my sister’s trail is me.”
He sl
owly shook his head as if disappointed. Strangely, he seemed to accept that explanation more easily than me simply staying with him.
“It’s moot now.” He glanced at the back end of the disappearing car. “Keep out of my way.”
“Like hell.”
“I hope you do.” He gestured at the tornado of vampires boiling around the corner building. “Because here they come.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ryker plated up with his terrifying Samurai mask, extended his Wolverine talons, and ran at the oncoming vamps like a gymnast toward the vault, leaving me hundreds of yards behind.
Fine. I had to prep anyway.
He’d pulled over in a business park. Despite myself, I was impressed. With businesses closed, there were no innocent bystanders waiting to be casualties.
While Ryker hit the first squad of suckers with that stunning, deadly grace, I uncorked the ruby vial and smeared serum on everything sharp, including Joyce, my ninja stars, and my daggers. All except Shredder. I used it all. I’d have to ask Alexis for more.
If I survived this.
Putting away the empty tube, I carefully took out the tiny thimble and held it up to my eye.
Liquid gold shimmered along the bottom, maybe a millimeter if I was lucky. There wasn’t much.
Using the cap eyedropper, I dotted three glistening drops along Shredder’s blade. Hopefully that would be enough. It was all I had.
I smiled grimly, smearing the stuff along the talwar’s sharp curved edge. Enough or not, I’d give Strigorul a big surprise. I removed the scabbard’s weather-stripping at the throat and pulled at the liner. It was hard to remove even when I wasn’t trembling with adrenaline; now I tore it getting it out. No time to worry about it. I sheathed Shredder carefully directly into the wood core, so it wouldn’t rub off a single molecule of serum.
Drawing Joyce, I jogged toward where Ryker weed-whacked his way through the fodder, brawny suckers with assorted badges in blue and red, gold bars scattered among them. Behind them…
Standing eerily still was that skyscraper of a vamp. Unplated, unfanged. Waiting. Watching.
Destroyer.
It was an apt name for him, with his cheekbones as craggy as the Rockies and a cruel, thin slash of a mouth, like a young Hannibal Lecter.
Ryker hadn’t said exactly what a destroyer was, but a Soul Stealer was as strong as an ancient. Did that mean the Destroyer and Ryker were essentially the same? If they canceled each other out…
A chill shook me, and my jog deteriorated to a walk. That left little ol’ me against a whole lotta warrior vamps.
The two ancients weren’t facing off, though. Ryker was battling—and beating—the rank and file.
Literally—they’d formed a line, waiting for their turn. My chill turned into a small snicker. Holy hand grenades, they must’ve learned from the Jean-Claude Van Damme movie school of fighting.
Although, even though he was beating them handily, Ryker would tire himself out on the sheer number of Shadow Vamp fodder. My chill returned.
Time for me to get in there and help. I plucked out two Jewels and threw. Serum-coated shuriken bit into the second and third vamps in line. The ruby serum worked fine on the lesser bloodsuckers, turning them green, then lumpy, then into piles of dust.
I hit five and six. As they began to dissolve, the line of vamps around them wavered. Two or three of the blue-badges twisted around, casting for a way out.
“Cowards,” the Destroyer spat at them. “Wait for your turn to fight the ancient Enkidu.”
Ryker’s original name. I’d joked about it when we’d first met. It seemed a hundred years ago now.
“The Locotenent al Umbrei,” Strigorul tapped his gold badge, so that must’ve meant something like Lieutenant of the Shadow, “who captures the ancient will receive the blood rite of advancement from Lordul Umbrei himself.”
My stomach lurched. Well, hell. The sick fuck had made killing Ryker a contest.
One dared, “But my lord Strigorul—”
“Fight!” He booted the vamp toward Ryker. Bully.
And a cheat. As the lesser vamp engaged Ryker, distracting him, Strigorul circled around until he was behind the king.
To ambush him.
Bastard. I quickly considered my attack. Throw a dagger to hamstring him or whip my silver shuriken, Lucille and Fleur, into his eyes? Follow up with Shredder and his liquid gold serum…
Strigorul plated up to attack.
Every thought dribbled from my brain. I recognized that blood red, skull-like facial armor.
A ruddy skull. A boar’s tusks. Eyes burning with the fires of hell.
The faceplate of a fiend.
It was him. After a lifetime of searching, it was definitely him.
The vampire who killed my parents.
Years of boiling fury erupted in my blood until my vision actually tinted red. “You fucker! You die.”
Berserk, I bounded toward him, pulling Shredder singing from his sheath.
Strigorul roared, “Get that slayer. Avoid her blade!”
The lesser monsters swarmed toward me en masse. Blocking the way to Strigorul.
Fuck that. I raised Shredder to chop him like a machete through the thicket of vamps…
Which would clean him of gold serum.
Damn it, damn it. No more liquid gold in the vial. Without the liquid gold, I’d be unable to destroy my parents’ murderer.
I struggled to rein in my rage. Jamming the talwar into its sheath, I readied Joyce as the outer edge of the shadow vamps hit me. I caught two of the suckers with hacking cuts to the throat. Blood sprayed in my face. I barely flinched. The ruby serum did its work. They went green, then lumpy, then turned into slag heaps.
It wouldn’t last, though. I had to win through, quick. I hacked at another vamp. He went green. As he got lumpy, I hit another.
Beyond where I struggled, Strigorul attacked Ryker.
The two powerhouses clashed, so hard and fast the air imploded. Stupidly fast, too fast to follow, they clawed and grappled. A blur to my eyes. And then not even that, as Ryker turned to mist, appearing immediately behind the Destroyer with claws that slashed his throat. Blood showered, stopping when the monster misted in turn.
Strigorul popped whole behind Ryker and jammed his talons deep into the king’s neck.
Ryker flinched. I sucked air as if the pain was my own, my blade slowing for a millisecond.
Milliseconds count in fights. While the king spun from Strigorul’s talons and clapped him on the ears with both palms, vampires grabbed my arms.
I torqued against them to kick oncoming suckers in the head. We played rock-paper-scissors-boot. Steel toes for the win. I did this twice more before the vamps holding me figured out that they were only helping me and let go.
Double-fisting my straight sword, I began hacking Viking-movie style.
Bravely, Ryker and I fought on, but the two ancients were evenly matched—and I was tiring.
We were going to lose. Not immediately, but soon.
Darkness took hold in my chest. Well. Tonight was a good night, and all that. We only had to hold them off until my sister escaped.
Dying alongside Ryker, the king I’d pursued all these years, seemed oddly fitting.
The last batch of shadow grunts I’d cut hadn’t gone green. Joyce was spent of ruby serum. Sheathing her, I pulled out Angel and Spyke and kept slashing.
“Kat,” Ryker bellowed. “There are too many for you. I can’t help.”
Thank you King Obvious. He was barely holding his own against Strigorul.
“You must retreat.”
“Retreat? Me? N-O.” Sweating, I pushed my muscles to their limits. Spyke lost his effectiveness. Angel wasn’t far behind. I sheathed them and drew my butterfly daggers, Sam and Dean. “That’s a no.”
“Kat! You don’t understand. Go, now!”
“Oh, sorry. I meant fuck no.” Gritting my teeth, I hacked twice as hard to get to him.
“Kat, you can escape. They’re after me—”
“You don’t understand. I’m not running out on you.”
Ryker’s eyes snapped open in pure shock.
Strigorul glanced between us. A gleam entered his red eyes, his mouth curving in a murderer’s slash of a smile.
“How delightful,” the Destroyer said. “You two are lovers.”
“We’re not lovers,” I shouted.
“No. Not anymore you aren’t. Locotenent al Umbrei! Leave the ancient and his lover to me.” As the Shadow Vamps took a collective step back, the Destroyer blew his body into a dirty gray mist.
Here he comes. I jammed my daggers into my vest, drew Shredder, and raised him to strike the moment Strigorul solidified.
The air imploded at my neck. I spun.
He’d snapped whole right behind me.
I swung as hard as I could. He’d had my millisecond of surprise, though.
His hands clamped over mine on Shredder’s hilt. He shoved sideways, knocking me off-target, then used my skewed momentum to twist the blade from my grip.
Counter-swinging Shredder to chop off my head.
I barely had time to think Tonight’s a good night to die.
Mist boiled furiously up between me and Strigorul. Ryker’s big body snapped whole wedged between me and death.
I stumbled back. Shredder flew into the space where my neck had been.
Ryker’s arm.
What my mere human strength had never done, the Destroyer’s stolen ancient power managed. The blade hit…and carved a groove into Ryker’s armored hide.
Although not without cost. Shredder’s blade, already curved, bent with the pressure—then snapped. The blade broke in two, one half falling to the pavement with a dull clatter.
Chortling, Strigorul threw the useless hilt away. “The great Enkidu. That was too easy.”
Pain stung me. My beautiful talwar. Strigorul had destroyed it.
