Guardians of Summerfeld: Full Series: Books 1-4
Page 56
“What’s going on?” Braddon demanded, striding toward them. The others fanned out behind him, and Quinn met Tristan’s eye over his shoulder.
“The vampires have found us,” Daniel answered Braddon’s question. “They will be here soon. We need to arm ourselves with whatever we can carry and prepare to defend the City.”
Quinn watched them all carefully, looking for any sign that might reveal the traitor, but she saw only genuine astonishment etched on every face.
“What is she doing here?” Liam broke the silence that followed and all eyes turned to Lenora, who had emerged from the shadows below the statute of King Eldon. Daniel held up a hand as Liam and Garret moved forward as one, their instinct demanding Lenora’s blood. Isaiah emitted a low growl and moved between her and the Hunters.
“This vampire has helped us at great personal cost and will not be harmed,” said Daniel. “Take a good look at her face and remember it. She is on our side.”
Daniel sent Blair, Liam and Garrett through the back of the Cathedral to gather weapons while he spoke to the others, issuing instructions and answering questions as quickly as possible. Isaiah had disappeared, but he returned quickly and Quinn noticed with a start of surprise that he was holding the Sacred book.
“What is it?” Daniel called, noticing the thoughtful expression on Isaiah’s face as he carried it back to them.
“We have to destroy it,” Isaiah replied, and a collective gasp rippled through them. “We cannot let it fall into their hands.” His words were a poignant reminder that they might not make it through this night – that the vampires might very well take control of the Cathedral.
“But if we destroy it all of Eldon’s teachings will be lost,” Quinn murmured.
“This book was transcribed from the original scrolls written by Eldon,” Isaiah explained, not able to meet Quinn’s eyes. “The scrolls still exist, locked inside of the Blood Temple with Wintyr.”
Nobody spoke, processing this new information.
“Original scrolls?” Quinn asked eventually, her anger rising. “Why weren’t we told?”
“There is no time to explain now,” Isaiah apologised, “but each of us has studied this book,” his voice growing in strength and conviction as he held it up for them all to see. “We know its teachings and we can pass them on to our predecessors.”
“Burn it,” Piper’s usually gentle voice was hard and unyielding. “I’d rather see it burn than fall into the hands of those monsters.”
Quinn watched with mixed emotions as they all stepped back, letting Isaiah pass. He walked directly to the fireplace beside the council table and, without another word, tossed the ancient leather-bound tome into the flames.
Turning away from the terrible sight, Quinn moved back to the window, staring out into the still night.
“The scrolls,” she murmured as Isaiah came to stand behind her.
“Quinn, I am asking you to let it go for now. I know you have questions and I will be happy to answer them if we survive this night. For now, I need you to be at your best.” Shaking off the anger she felt, Quinn nodded.
“Don’t you think it’s time we told them? They deserve to know one of our own might betray us, particularly since we are probably all going to die tonight.”
“It will only cause a panic. We cannot work as a team without trust. The one who betrayed us will reveal him or herself, and then the truth will out.”
“Who is it?” Quinn turned to face him. “Who do you suspect?”
Isaiah opened his mouth to reply, but at that moment Daniel called for everyone’s attention. The Hunters had returned, laden with weapons, which they dumped unceremoniously on the council table.
“Gather around!” Daniel instructed. “I want each of you to take a crossbow, a couple of stakes, and as many bottles of Cliffdale water as you can manage,” he paused as they all started grabbing items off the table. Quinn slotted four bottles of water into her cargo pockets, and slid a silver stake into each boot. Lifting her crossbow, she checked the sight and then lowered it to her side. Isaiah hadn’t reached for anything on the table. Instead, he moved back toward the fireplace, where the smoking remains of the Sacred Book still burned. Raising his hand he pressed it against a tiny fissure in the stone, and to Quinn’s astonishment, a thin hollow appeared.
Everyone had stopped to watch as Isaiah withdrew a silver sword with a dazzling golden hilt from the recess. The sword seemed to vibrate in his hands as though it had a life of its own. All eyes travelled upward, to the statue behind him. There was no mistaking the sword. It was the same one that Eldon wielded in the stone monument. One by one, the Guardians realised the truth. Isaiah, the Slayer, was no longer in hiding. Daniel gave them a moment to process this fact, waiting for the flood of questions. Instead, there was absolute silence, and satisfied, Daniel started to speak.
“We all know how these things fight. They are strong and they are fast, but more importantly, they show no mercy. I suggest you do the same. Aim for the heart and do not hesitate. Above all, we do not allow them through the Gateway.” A murmur of assent rose through the ranks.
Daniel glanced over the ten faces staring back at him, a collective grim resolve, and he lowered his voice. “You are all exceptional Guardians… even you, little one,” his eyes fell on Monique, who was standing tall and determined. “I am proud to fight beside you.”
Isaiah used the opportunity while the others were distracted to step closer to Lenora.
“You should go,” he murmured, so softly that only she could hear. “Before they get here. There’s still time…”
Lenora nodded. She had no intention of getting caught up in this war – she had only come to deliver the message because it was the right thing to do. In turn, Isaiah didn’t want her anywhere near the fighting, but his desire to have her out of harm’s way wasn’t entirely altruistic. Lenora was blissfully unaware of the agony he was enduring being so close to her. The enchantments prevented him from sensing vampires, and kept the Slayer at bay, but Lenora was within the charm’s protection, and it took everything in him not to attack her where she stood.
“For what it’s worth, I hope you make it.” Lenora turned to leave.
“It’s worth a lot,” he smiled sadly, but before she could reply, Piper’s frantic cry came from the window beside the Cathedral doors.
“They’re coming!”
Quinn shot forward to see for herself, as did every other Guardian in the room. A lone vampire stood on the crest of the hill, within Cliffdale’s boundaries. Even from this distance, under the pale light of the moon, Quinn could see by her silhouette that the vampire was a woman, slight of frame, with heavy dark tresses falling over one shoulder.
“Charlotte,” Lenora said, confirming Quinn’s suspicions. As they watched, more figures emerged, appearing out of thin air as they crossed the portal into Cliffdale.
Piper whimpered as their numbers grew and Quinn felt her own stomach turn.
“Remember,” Daniel spoke with the same assurance he had earlier. “We cannot let them through. No matter what.” Quinn made a decision.
“I’m not waiting for them to get in here,” she hissed, striding past the others and yanking open the Cathedral doors.
She walked with purpose, pushing all of her fear and doubt into the deepest part of her. Silently, the other Guardians fanned out beside her, with Daniel on her left and Isaiah on her right.
They came to a halt and Quinn lifted her crossbow, watching the army stream down toward them in a solid black mass.
End of Book 2...
Book 3: The Hope of Hawkstone
Chapter 1
Eleven Guardians stood in a formidable line outside the open doors of the Cliffdale Cathedral, the magnificent edifice which housed the Gateway to another world - the world of Summerfeld, sanctuary for the ten supernatural species which had survived the Blood War. In one thousand years the City had never been breached by their enemies - the vampires who sought to destroy them
- protected as it was by the enchantments King Eldon himself had cast. The enchantments ensured that no man or vampire could find the City, let alone enter it. Watching the black horde swarming toward them, Quinn Harden knew that only one charm could save the City now. The Guardians themselves.
A lone female vampire stood on the crest of the hill above the Cathedral, gazing down at them as her people took up position. Charlotte’s extraordinary vision missed nothing and she fought the urge to laugh at the pitiful defence assembled below her. Eleven Guardians were no match for her army. She ran her eye along them, taking in each one. She couldn’t be sure who the Hunters were, but she suspected the two men in the centre would be the most formidable opponents. They carried themselves differently to the others and power radiated off them. She recognised the woman between them immediately but she was hardly worth worrying about. She would not survive this night.
Drake, approaching from behind Charlotte, had also spotted Quinn and his resolve slipped at the sight of her. Beautiful and fierce she held his attention so that he barely noticed the other Guardians, but Charlotte’s sudden hiss of fury drew his attention to the open doors of the Cathedral. Radiant in the light spilling from within, stood Lenora. Drake baulked at the sight of his oldest friend as she stepped deliberately off the stone steps and came to stand beside the Guardians. He had threatened her, told her to run or he would expose her as a traitor. He had never really intended to hand her over to Charlotte, but he could never have guessed in a million years that Lenora would be so foolish as to try to stand against her.
“She will die for this,” Charlotte vowed.
Initially Quinn deliberately avoided looking at Drake. She knew that the moment she really saw him she would have to accept that this was happening – that he had betrayed her. She preferred to think of him as just another nameless face in the crowd. By the time she did glance up in his direction it was too late. Drake and Charlotte had been swept up in the moving crowd, indiscernible from the mass of evil pouring into the Guardians’ most sacred place.
As the vampires drew nearer, Quinn readied her bow and, the second they were within range, she released the first deadly arrow striking a male vampire through the heart. The other Guardians followed suit, opening fire, and, throughout the vampire ranks, bodies fell to the ground. It took less than a second to reload and over and over again the Guardians fired, taking down dozens of their enemies.
Incensed, the vampires charged. Breaking their ranks made it harder to aim; but the Guardians’ training ensured they didn’t miss. Only when the stampeding army was almost upon them did they retreat into the Cathedral, forcing the vampires to converge as they funneled through the open doors. Only a few vampires could come through at a time, and initially, the Guardians held them at bay, taking down one after another. Quinn’s stakes gleamed red as she plunged them over and over into the hearts of those who came near her, while the heavy weight of her laden stake belt, holding yet still more of the deadly weapons, banged against her hip.
Piper and Monique, despite having the least combat experience, were holding their own, assisted by Tristan, and, to Quinn’s surprise, Lenora. Blair and Daniel were working together as a team, as were Garrett and Liam. Hearing a snarl behind her Quinn turned, too late, to find a vampire soaring through the air as he leapt toward her. She couldn’t get her stake up in time and she dropped low to the ground, shielding her head with her arms as she waited for a blow that never came. Lifting her head, she saw her father towering above her with the body of her attacker dead at his feet. Only Lucas and Isaiah were unaccounted for, although it was impossible to keep track of everybody in the meleé, and, as the vampire corpses greyed, the ash grew thick in the air, making it more difficult to see.
The hiss of displaced air sounded, so close that Quinn felt her hair rise off her cheek as blood sprayed toward her in an arc, splattering her cheeks with the warm, wet liquid. Isaiah appeared through the ash, lifting the sword again and swinging around in a deadly blur of steel and leather. Quinn heard the sickening squelch as a couple of vampires heads landed on the floor near her feet. She stayed with Isaiah, keeping low behind his back and doing more damage under the shelter of his protection than she could out in the open; exposed.
They were doing well, Quinn thought, but, soon enough, the sheer number of the vampire force began to win out and the Guardians were forced backward, losing their advantage. Vampires poured into the great hall, surrounding them like ants. Above the fierce sound of dueling, Quinn heard the sound of glass shattering but she was too hemmed in to locate the source of the noise.
Lenora, however, was right beside the window when it smashed inward, raining shards of rainbow glass over her head. The sight of Drake climbing up through the window froze Lenora in place.
“Come on!” Drake offered Charlotte a hand up through the window he had just smashed. They were on the far side of the Cathedral, having doubled around to avoid the fighting. Drake wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, but the vampire numbers seemed to be dwindling. Charlotte gazed upon the slaughter around them with only mild curiosity. It didn’t matter to her how many vampires lost their lives; they were collateral damage and could easily be replaced. The Guardians were putting up a good fight but they couldn’t possibly hope to win in the end. Even as she watched, more vampires were swarming through the open doors.
Quinn had become separated from Isaiah and was fighting alongside Piper when she felt it. Her breath caught in her throat and she stopped dead in her tracks. Fortunately, Piper knocked her to the ground just as a vampire streaked overhead. He had been aiming for Quinn’s throat. The hard landing knocked one of her stakes out of her hand, but Quinn barely noticed, her heart racing. Her crystal was here, she could sense it. No vampire but Drake and Genevieve knew where she lived and Lenora had told her that Genevieve was dead. Which left only one possible explanation: Drake had found it.
Scanning the room frantically, she caught a glimpse of a dark head slipping through the throng on the far side of the room. Trying desperately to reach him, she took a brutal blow to her ribs and doubled over in pain.
“Hurts, doesn’t it?” an evil voice taunted, and Quinn looked up to see four vampires advancing toward her, holding their arms out at their sides to ensure she could not evade them.
“You hit like a girl,” she spat at the tallest one who had spoken. Retreating slowly, she found herself backed up against the cold stone of the far wall, near the door to the record room. Piper was nowhere to be seen. Gripping her stake firmly, Quinn anticipated their movements, waiting for an opening. When it came, she lunged forward, staking the vampire nearest her through the chest, the squelching sound as she pulled her stake free like music to her ears.
“Who’s next?” she sneered.
The tallest vampire gave a shriek of fury and reached for her. Quinn deflected him, but her stake was knocked from her hand.
“Not so brave without it, are you?” His eyes dropped to her stake belt, but Quinn reached into her pocket instead, withdrawing a bottle of Cliffdale water. Before he could register what it was, she hurled the contents into his face.
The vampire screamed, clutching at his face in agony as the smell of burning flesh assailed Quinn’s nostrils. As his fellows gazed upon his bubbling skin, she tugged a new stake from her belt and ran it through the chest of the vampire to her left. The last vampire seized the opportunity as her back was turned, to grab her from behind, pinning her left arm to her side. Not missing a beat, Quinn withdrew her stake arm, flipping the stake expertly in her hand, and brought her arm back. Her stake impaled itself in the vampire’s stomach, which would not kill him, but the pain caused him to loosen his grip. Twisting in his slack hold, Quinn lifted her knee savagely up into his groin, her right hand still firmly on the hilt of her stake. As he buckled over, clutching the affected area, the stake came free, and she lifted it high above his head before plunging it through his back and into his heart.
On and on she fought, slowly moving
back toward the place she had spied Drake. And then she heard it… a battle cry so powerful that it reverberated through her body. The entire room seemed to freeze at the sound and Quinn watched as Isaiah finally allowed the full might of the Slayer to emerge. His grace and form was both terrifying and beautiful all at once. Glorious in his carnage, Quinn had never seen anything like it. The way he moved defied gravity and logic as vampires dropped dead at his feet by the dozen. Isaiah’s youthful face was spattered with blood and the sword gleamed scarlet, as he cast aside one enemy after another, a snarl of pure, unadulterated rage making him the most dangerous being she had ever encountered.
The vampires inside the Cathedral could not tear their eyes from Isaiah. The Slayer was their single greatest fear and Charlotte had assured them that no Slayer existed. In the quiet stillness of that moment, Quinn turned her head and locked eyes with Drake. Her heart seemed to thud to a halt in her chest. He stood beside the altar with Charlotte, and, behind them, his eyes closed as he whispered the words that would take them through the portal, was Tristan.
Quinn couldn’t move her feet. She felt as if her whole body had turned to lead. In the instant that the three of them disappeared she felt a sense of complete and utter despair, but then they reappeared, and, for one brief, glorious moment she believed that Tristan hadn’t betrayed them after all. And then, she felt it. A pulse coursed through her like an electric shock as she watched what looked like an invisible force field descend around them. Through the smashed window Quinn saw a familiar courtyard in the distance, surrounded by quaint houses. The fountain of youth gurgled innocently just a few hundred yards away. The enchantments had been breached and the magic concealing the City was falling away. The mild scent of cornflowers permeated the air and Quinn realised with a start that the Cathedral was actually nestled in the vast cornflower field, the same field she had crossed hundreds of times without ever realising its significance. Thinking about the clumps of cornflowers that grew around the Cathedral it made sense. A screech sounded from far away, and she whipped around, her dread mounting. Through the back windows, Dragon’s Peak towered above them in the distance.