by Kirah Nyx
They hurried down the corridor. Ivy was still without shoes, and her bare feet were grimed, but she was a Vampire; she didn’t feel the coldness of the wooden slabs she walked on, nor the icy chill biting at her skin.
Domenic’s grip remained firm around her arm as he dragged her down the corridor. But their path became blocked when they reached a brick wall, out of place with the rest of the corridor made of mahogany panels and papered walls, peeling at the corners. He released her.
“Drain it,” he said, gesturing to the wall.
Ivy scowled, bristled by his commanding tone. Sniffing, she pressed her palm against the rough wall and closed her eyes. Magic pulsed in the bricks, slithering up the cracks to meet her skin. She welcomed every bit of it—the trickles of power seeping into her fingertips, the sparse magic coursing up her veins to her heart, the sound of the source streaming toward her. Once she’d drained all the magic in the wall, she pressed her hand to her throat.
“It’s not much,” she said. “Only enough for my neck, I think.” The power surged into her flesh, washed over her bruises, and soothed her aching bones. The wood was pushed from her neck until popped out with a squelch, and dropped the floor.
She dropped her hand to her side and stared at the wall. It had begun to hiss, and each brick cracked and fractured before their very eyes. She knew instantly—it wasn’t a real wall; it was an illusion of magic.
“Why is there a fake wall down here?” she wondered aloud.
Domenic watched the wall crumble to debris until it vanished completely.
They were face to face with the edge of the woods.
Ivy frowned and peered around the side of the wall. She recognised the landscape. They were at the back of the Academy, far from the evacuation point at the Springs, at least two miles away.
“Come on,” he whispered, taking her hand in his, their fingers entwining instinctively. “We have to be quiet and quick. Do you understand?” Ivy nodded. “No matter what happens, don’t leave my side,” he said, and turned to face her. She looked up at him and was taken aback by the severity of his gaze. It was intense the way he stared down at her, and she couldn’t help but think he was measuring her thoughts. His free hand raised to cup her cheek, and he asked huskily, “Do you trust me?”
“With my life,” she smiled softly. He smirked and dipped down to peck her swollen lips in a whisper of a kiss. Their lips didn’t part, but lingered together. He pulled away and dropped his hand, returning his gaze to the woods. Ivy’s grip tightened on his hand as he guided her out of the Academy and into the woods.
“Why can’t we go to the evacuation point?” she asked quietly, mirroring his every move.
“A battle’s blocking our path. We can’t reach the tunnels without going through it. It’s too dangerous there,” he whispered. “And I told you to be quiet.”
Ivy bit her lip and fell silent.
They trudged through the wires of poison-ivy and over the hurdles of broken branches.
Ivy didn’t know how long they had been walking for, but the sky was still dark, so it couldn’t have been as long as it’d seemed.
The soles of her feet didn’t feel the stabs from the branches she stepped on or the prickles of the rose thorns. She heard no battle cries in the woods; she and Domenic had journeyed far.
She wondered if he was taking her to a secret glittergate somewhere.
They entered a wide daisy clearing, and she found herself reminded of the field in her gardens at home. A sense of yearning blossomed within her at the thought.
Memories of her many pets prancing around the gardens flooded her mind, and a soft smile tugged at her lips. She couldn’t wait to take her pet wolf home; Silus would love the garden—
Ivy stopped. Her feet glued to the dewy grass and her slowly blinking eyes gazed ahead.
Domenic stopped in front of her, their hands still connected. He turned to see what had caused her to stop. His impatient eyes scanned her shocked features before a frown creased at his brow. “Sky?” He stepped toward her. “We need to keep moving.”
“I almost forgot,” she whispered. Her swarming white eyes gazed up at his obsidian orbs; so similar to his sister’s, yet they reminded her of another. “Is your sister all right?”
A spark of puzzlement flashed in his eyes. He frowned down at her and replied, “Yes, she’s fine.”
Ivy swallowed. “And Silus?” she whispered, her eyes darting over his tanned face, black hair, square jaw—a mirrored image of the Shifter. “Your bother … Is he ok?”
“They’re both safe,” he said impatiently. “We need to leave.”
Ivy snatched her hand out of his and stumbled back. Domenic went to approach her, but she stepped to the side and tried to balance herself on the violently shaking earth. The air thinned and choked her, her heart plummeted to the pits of her churning stomach, and all she could see were his deadly eyes…
“You told me your parents died,” she whispered. “Your mum died in the battle, when you were just a baby. And then your dad, he became a Keeper … Keepers can’t have children, not after they take their vows. So how the hell do you have brothers and sisters, Domenic?”
Domenic’s lips parted, as if to speak, but he simply stood there, gaping at her.
“You didn’t tell me you had a brother,” she added shakily. “I only knew about Archer. But … a Shifter attacked me. His name was Silus, like your father. And you look like him. You and Archer … and that Shifter … You all look like—”
“Siblings,” he said coldly. A darkness hardened his face. They stood there, silently, staring at each other as the realisation came crashing down on her.
“You’re taking me to them,” she said. The foreign malice in his dark eyes confirmed it. “Domenic…”
“Clever little Vampire,” he purred. “Considering you’re not exactly the sharpest fang in this dump, I am surprised.”
“No,” she breathed, tears welling in her pained eyes. “Not you. It—”
“Spare me your drivel,” he bit. “You have two choices; you can come with me willingly, or I’ll kill her.”
He clicked his fingers. A shadowy whirl flittered on the other side of the clearing. Ivy tried to focus her cloudy vision on the movement, but the tears wouldn’t be kept at bay. She wiped them away and gawked at the man emerging from the woods; the man dressed in combat gear, like Domenic, but with his arm locked around a bloodied girl.
“Penny!” she shrieked. Ivy lunged forward, but halted as a gleam blinded her. The man had a dagger pressed against Penny’s throat, lit by the moonlight pouring down on the clearing.
“Take another step,” warned Domenic, “and she’s dead.”
Ivy froze.
Horror consumed her, shown in each tear that rolled down her cheeks, and lingered in the air with the unspoken words from her gaping mouth.
Domenic only stood there, a tedious impatience to his hard stare, his jaw clenched.
“It didn’t have to be like this,” said Domenic, a tinge of regret in his tone. “You could have come willingly, and spared yourself premature dread.”
“Until I figured it out, you mean,” she snarled. Anger surged within her veins, but it barely blanketed the shattered heart inside of her. “Figured out that you’re a monster.”
Unfazed, Domenic merely stared at her.
Penny blubbered on the other side of the field, her words lost in the light breeze. Ivy needed a plan. She could run, but Penny wouldn’t survive. She could fight, but neither of them would survive.
The man hollered, “Why not just kill them both, right here?”
Tediously, Domenic slewed his blank gaze to the man. “Because, we have orders, Clyde.”
“My orders come from you!”
“And mine elsewhere,” barked Domenic. He was losing his patience. His fingers coiled around the dagger in his hand, gripping so tightly that his knuckles whitened.
“It was just a suggest—”
An earth-shaking eru
ption blasted through the trees. An invisible force whacked Ivy off her feet, and hurled her over the clearing. She landed on the grass with a thud just as a cloud of dust and debris battered her. The Academy had exploded. Flames shot up into the sky, the smoky stench of smouldering wood swept over the forest.
A second thud, not too far away, hit the ground.
Domenic, she thought.
“Ivy!” It was Penny’s voice. Ivy couldn’t see her through the mist of smoke, or the downpour of bricks and singed wood. “Ivy, where are you!”
A second explosion boomed out. Cries tore through the woodlands. Grunting, Ivy pushed herself to her feet.
The earth spun as nausea crept up her throat. Rough sounds groaned out nearby. Ivy suspected that it was Domenic. She had to reach Penny before they did, or before Domenic got to her.
Blindly, she ran through the fog. Penny’s shouts beckoned her, guided her like the beams from a lighthouse at sea. Nearer, she got; closer, she reached. Savage roars struck jolts of terror through her, but she raced through the clearing, hoping to reach Penny.
“Over here!” shouted Ivy.
Penny didn’t answer.
“Penny, I’m over here!”
Only growls and gurgles rippled out. Ivy stuck her hands out in front of her and felt her way through the cloud.
“Where are you!”
“Right here.” The voice whispered against the shell of her ear. A chest grazed against her back ever so slightly, sending chills down her spine. It was Domenic.
Ivy flattened herself to the ground just as his hand shot out for her.
She flipped onto her back and swung her legs to knock him off his feet. He landed beside her. It gave her enough time to scramble off the dirt, but before she could run, he kicked out and sent her crashing to the ground. Ivy moaned and writhed on the soil, squinting through the cloud.
Domenic jumped to his feet, his eyes blazing through the thinning fog. They swirled with molten fury as he slowly bowed his head and glowered at her from beneath his lashes.
With her cautious gaze on his blurry face, Ivy slinked into a crouching position. Their eyes remained locked as he grabbed the back of his sweater and pulled it over his head.
Ivy kept her gaze on him the whole time.
She didn’t so much as glance down at his scarred chest as he undressed down to nothing. A fierce blush crept up her cheeks and neck as he stood there, as bare as the day he was born.
The air around his muscular form began to distort. His body vibrated and pulsed. A low, deep, rumbling growl hummed through his body as he transitioned, but his ferocious gaze never left hers once. He didn’t even blink.
Domenic’s body suddenly vanished, distorted and tore apart all at once. One second, his arms were tanned, hairless and muscular; the next, they were bloody, red and those of a beast’s. Domenic Marroc, the man she’d had cared for was gone. She was staring at a Shifter.
And not just any Shifter; the one she had seen through the library window, in her hallucinations … The one she had known had been on campus. Domenic Marroc was not just any Shifter. He was the Shifter.
The skeletal wolf craned its raw muscled neck. Blood dripped from its salivating jaws, and its black claws dug into the soil. Slowly, she raised her chin and looked up at the huge wolf. Hatred boiled within her, tingling at the tips of her fingers and toes. Her fangs dripped with venom, desperate to sink into his fleshless body.
It was too much. She couldn’t hold it in anymore. Finally, in that moment of absolute betrayal and suffering, Ivy released what she had been resisting: She threw her head back and she screamed a horrid, wild noise, releasing a dreadful cry of utter anguish and wrath to tear through the night sky.
*
Fury and bloodthirst thickened the air from all corners of the battle. The Rebellion attacked in ghastly forms that Felix didn’t even know possible.
Grey creatures, as tall as the trees, tore through the battlefield, wearing the heads of horses, but the bodies of giants; snakes with a dozen heads loomed up to the branches before they struck with their fangs, longer than Felix’s whole body.
There were even headless demons with claws that dripped the blood of their victims shredded the valiant fighters to ribbons; rotten fleshed beasts from the fairy tales slugged slimily over the bloodied blades of grass and snapped the legs of the students.
At least three hundred Shifters swarmed the grounds, tearing Fae apart with ease, ripping the heads off the bodies of Vampires, clawing their way through the sparse teachers. Most students had been evacuated, or had fled—there weren’t many fighting against the Shifters who outnumbered them. But the remaining students and teachers fought with as much savagery as the Rebellion.
The air reeked of burnt flesh and smouldering rock. Battle cries ripped through the night sky, almost drowned out by the screams of anguish. Blood coated the soil, spilling from scattered corpses; lights flashed and soared through the foyer, magic from the Fae and Vampires, weaponry from the Rebellion in human form, all battling fiercely.
The Academy lay in ruins of rubble ahead, destroyed entirely. It was gone, everything and everyone in it. The Videer had been in their crypts, deep in the bowels of the Academy, and were now presumed dead from the power of the explosions. There were no Videer students fighting on the battle ground. But, Felix didn’t care about that. He felt nothing at the loss of a hundred Videer, young and old, in the Academy ruins. He only feared for his sister.
Of course, there was still a chance. Perhaps his sister wasn’t crushed beneath the rubble ahead, or torn apart by one of the Shifters surrounding him.
Perhaps she had gotten away, run into the woods, or a Knight had led her to the Springs. He hoped so.
If possible, Samael was even more determined than Felix to find Ivy. His pace was swifter, his rage was greater, and his eyes were icier, yet almost glowing with determination.
He spun and dodged attacks gracefully, his fingernails tore out the throats of the Shifters with ease.
Felix was submerged within the swarm of red as he and Samael raced through the battlefield. Fae jumped and spun in the air before landing on monsters.
Vampires lunged at the Shifters, too, and ensued brutal, bloody battles. Fae and Vampires ran to the aide of the wounded — particularly their own — and tried to heal them. But Felix and Samael separated at the edge of the battle to find Ivy.
Samael sprinted straight ahead, down the side of the collapsed Academy, and into the far woodlands.
Felix, however, chose the Fae grottos. He knew Ivy. And, he knew she would be hiding. With the grottos and the nearby glittergate, it was his best chance of finding her.
As he raced down the windy path, flanked by thin crooked trees, he heard an echoed cry. With a quick glance to his left, he saw Harriet Rosado fleeing from a savage Shifter. She didn’t have a chance, he mused. He didn’t care. He kept running down the path, ignoring her distressed cries.
A wounded Fae stumbled out of the woods. Felix only spared him a swift glance. But the moment he recognised the Fae, Felix skidded to a halt.
“River,” he said and rushed over to him.
River staggered into Felix. The Vampire moved him to lean back against a tree trunk.
Felix pried River’s fingers from the gaping hole in his stomach. Felix inspected the gushing wound and asked, “Can’t you heal yourself?”
River wheezed and slumped against the tree. He raised his fingertips to show the gashes that were sliced down his palms. He couldn’t summon magic without his hands.
“Iv—Ivy,” River wheezed hoarsely.
“Where is she?” Felix barked. “Have you seen her?”
River shook his head before he coughed up blood.
“Find her,” ordered Felix.
“I know … I know it was you. Killing the Banshees … Draining the Springs …”
Felix stared at the weak Fae coldly.
River clutched his bleeding stomach and lolled his head back against the rough b
ark of the tree. He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, ignoring the blood that seeped from his parted lips, nostrils, and pointed ears. “I hope … your Artefacts … were worth it,” he wheezed.
Felix grabbed River’s hands. “If you keep your mouth shut and find Ivy,” he hissed, “I’ll heal you.”
River grinned bloodily. His crimson-stained teeth had chunks of flesh stuck in between them. “You had me at ‘find Ivy’.”
Felix nodded curtly and let the stolen Fae magic surge through his body to his fingertips. The slashes on River’s palm knitted shut.
River shut his eyes and pressed his hands against his stomach. The gaping hole filled with pink flesh, piece by piece, until there was no hole left.
“Now, River!” snapped Felix impatiently. “We don’t have long. She might be in danger.”
River’s eyes remained shut. His breaths evened and the heaves of his chest slowed. Eventually, he said, “In the woods. She is … with a Shifter, a wolf.”
River’s legs gave out beneath him and he slid down the tree to the ground. Felix didn’t care.
He had to find Ivy. Everyone else was secondary.
20
The earth had never been so still before. Tension pressed against her body as she remained crouched in a predatory stance, waiting for the Shifter to make his move. Ivy could hear the inhales and exhales coming from his bloody nostrils. She could hear the steady thump, thump, thump of his heartbeat, which startled her. It was clear that the treacherous beast felt no fear, unlike her. It—he was calm, and she; a panicked, distraught mess, shuddering from the force of her adrenaline.
Menacing yellow eyes stared directly at her, and it was all she could do to not crumble to the ground and cry. Those eyes were so different to the ones she longed to gaze into. They were such a contrast to the black eyes filled with charm, humour and warmth.
They were now the eyes of a threatening, dangerous beast.
“Domenic,” she whispered breathlessly. “Please … Whatever you think you have to do, remember that it’s me. Ivy. Sky.”
The wolf’s lips curled and bared its sharp choppers at her. But it remained standing, big and strong, looming before her. A deep growl thundered through its fleshless body.
