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Guardians of Summerfeld: Full Series: Books 1-4

Page 58

by Melissa Delport


  The whizz of an arrow distracted him as it flew past where he stood, plunging deep into the chest of a vampire who dropped like a stone to the ground. Bewildered, Isaiah glanced around as more arrows flew from the sky, each finding its target. The circle around him collapsed, line by line, forming a solid crescent of grey ash. The vampires near the back hesitated, clearly not sure about proceeding, while Isaiah searched the area. He finally located the source; a small group of Fae huddled together on the roof of the storage warehouse, but, as more vampires on the opposite side of the courtyard succumbed to the invisible archers, Isaiah picked them out on rooftops all around. His sense of pride was tempered only by the irritation that they would be so careless with their own lives. A moment later the vampires surrounding him moved away, their heads raised and Isaiah’s blood ran cold. They, too, had discovered the source of the shooting.

  “Run!” he roared, praying the Fae would heed his warning.

  As the arrows rained down from the heavens, the wolf Channon crept alongside the warehouse, following the sounds of battle. Rafe and the other members of the pack followed. Once Rafe had gained control of his changing, Channon had channelled his emotion and extended his ability to the rest of the pack. The change had been painful, but quick; far better than any transition she had experienced before. The wolves had spent an eternity fighting their animal selves and Channon couldn’t help but wonder if that had been the problem all along.

  When she reached the courtyard she immediately located Isaiah on the opposite side, engulfed in a mass of vampires. Still more were streaking outward, away from him and toward the town itself. Not wasting any time Channon catapulted forward, taking an almighty swipe at the first vampire that came near her, her claws extended. Rafe and a few other wolves came at him from behind, and together they overpowered him, shredding him to pieces. The wolves were pack animals and fought best as a team. Slowly, they took down one vampire after another, but not without casualties of their own.

  The wolves heard Isaiah’s scream and a howl burst from Channon’s lips. She turned her yellow eyes to the roof of the warehouse and saw Kellan and Freya scaling the side, a rope dangling below them. As she watched, two pale faces appeared above them, snatching for the rope and pulling it up as the two Fae tried to scrabble down toward the ground. Kellan yelled and Freya slipped, losing her grip for a second and sliding down the natural fibre drastically before regaining her firm grasp. The vampires heaved upward, pulling them up faster and faster. Channon bolted.

  Knowing that they would be pulled to a certain death, Kellan closed his eyes and all but released his hold on the rope. He slammed down into Freya, the two of them plummeting to the ground below. It wasn’t a massive drop, but it was going to hurt. Freya tried desperately to slow them down but as the rope vanished between her fingertips, she gave a shriek of fear. The Fae fell a few metres but their fall was broken by the relatively soft flanks of Channon and Rafe, who had reached them only just in time. Channon let out a yelp of pain as Kellan’s bow gouged into her back, but a moment later she transformed, standing tall and naked before them.

  “Are you okay?” she asked desperately. Freya had twisted her ankle, but Kellan had suffered only a few bruises and the two quickly reassured them.

  “Rayna!” Channon called, as the pale auburn wolf darted past them, fresh blood on her muzzle. Rayna returned immediately, lowering her head as she waited for Channon’s instruction.

  “Get these two back home and stay with them,” Channon instructed. Rayna emitted a low whine, casting a baleful look over her shoulder to where Dominic was still fighting for his life.

  “Now,” Channon ordered. “Lock yourselves inside,” she added quickly, addressing the Fae couple. “You’ve done all you can. Now it’s time to get back to your baby.”

  Blinking back tears, Freya nodded. The mention of Sage was almost too much for her and she had a crippling desire to see the child’s face, at least once more before this was over. Ignoring the pain in her ankle, Freya hobbled after Rayna, as quickly as she could, while Kellan walked behind them, his bow at the ready.

  In the five minute walk back to their home Kellan shot four more vampires. Three had tried to sneak up on them and a fourth had been feeding on a member of the Fae who had obviously been scurrying toward the courtyard to help. As Kellan’s arrow found its mark, the vampire slumped aside, and Freya gave a scream of horror that tore through the town around them. Before he could entreat her to be quiet, Kellan spotted the cause of her despair and he choked back his own roar as his eyes fell upon the pale face of his youngest apprentice. Her soft leather sandals were pointed back toward the courtyard, and a long cape gaped open to display her tiny hands pressed upward, trying to ward off her attacker. Her efforts had been futile against the superior strength of the vampire. Mairin’s throat and chest were soaked with blood, and her gentle, unseeing eyes gazed skyward. Kellan couldn’t process what he was seeing. He had left her tending the Chumana hatchlings. Never would he ever have considered she would leave her post, driven by her fear for Velkan’s safety. As though drawn by Kellan’s thoughts, Velkan appeared a moment later, sprinting toward them, with his father Harlan right behind him. The father and son had been up on one of the other roofs and Kellan felt a wave of relief that they had made it. Mairin’s own father, Micah, brought up the rear and Kellan moved quickly to intercept them, trying to hide the prostate body of Micah’s only child. It was useless. Velkan spied her body first and seemed to falter in mid-stride, his legs ceasing to work and he collapsed onto his knees before her, his face draining of what little colour it had.

  “No!” Velkan whispered, softly touching Mairin’s face. He had grown closer to her since they had been working together and Mairin had become like a little sister to him. Velkan was as oblivious of her affections as Monique was of his own.

  A second later Micah skidded to a halt beside Velkan, peering over his shoulder with reluctant curiosity.

  “Micah, no!” Freya had finally regained control of her senses and she lurched forward, but it was too late. It took a full few seconds for Micah to register what he was seeing. His expression morphed slowly from shock, to denial, to a snarling rage that blistered off him, infecting everyone. Oblivious of the danger he was placing them all in, Micah let out an almighty scream of raw emotion just as Freya had done moments before.

  “Micah!” Kellan shouted a warning, too late, as a stream of vampires rounded the bend behind them; a black avalanche of death.

  Freya stood rooted to the spot, all thought of seeing her daughter again dashed against the solid wall of vampires advancing on them. Pulling ineffectually at Kellan’s arm, she watched as Micah scooped up Mairin’s tiny frame, cradling her gently against his chest as though he feared he might hurt her. But Mairin was far beyond them now. She had gone where no one could hurt her ever again. Valiantly, Velkan stepped between Micah and the oncoming horde, but Kellan yelled at him to run. Mobilised, the Fae made a run for it, their feet barely touching the ground as they sprinted toward Kellan’s house.

  They wouldn’t have made it. They would have had absolutely no hope of outrunning the vampires if Daniel and Blair hadn’t stepped between them and the monsters who were chasing them, buying them the time they needed to race through the front door that Anaise was holding wide open; Micah still holding his precious burden.

  Chapter 5

  “Monique!” Jonas yelled, thundering down the cobbled street. He could see her battling a vampire at least twice her size and, without thinking, he raced forward to help her. Balthazar had done as Kellan had asked and had made his way toward the Lunar Grove, but, once in the cover of the trees, Jonas had stolen away, unable to bear the thought of not knowing what would become of Monique. Jonas had no idea where his father was now, but finally finding Monique had distracted him. As he reached the duelling pair, Monique’s body suddenly arched backward and her eyes glassed over as an eerie, inhuman cry burst from her lips. The vampire was as surprised as Jonas but he r
ecovered quickly, stepping toward her as he prepared to sink his fangs into her neck. Monique seemed to have no idea what was happening around her; she appeared to be in a trance-like state that terrified Jonas.

  Infuriated, Jonas leapt onto the vampire’s back, wrapping his arms around the larger man’s throat and clinging on for his life. To the vampire, Jonas was nothing more than an irksome fly and he grabbed the boy’s forearms, crunching bone between his fingers. Jonas howled in agony, but still he hung on, knowing that the second he let go, he was as good as dead. As the vampire increased pressure, Jonas struggled to keep hold of his consciousness. He couldn’t afford to black out.

  “Jump!” a familiar voice yelled, loud enough to penetrate his hazy mind. Jonas did as he was told, pushing back off the vampire’s back and landing painfully on the ground, as a silver stake erupted through the place he had just vacated. Monique, looking perfectly normal once more, pulled the stake out and rushed to Jonas’s side.

  “Are you okay?” she asked. Jonas nodded, unable to speak. “We have to get you out of here,” she looked around, trying to find a safe way out. The courtyard was not as crowded as it had been moments ago, many of the vampires had already begun to spread through the City.

  Monique was torn. She could not explain what had happened but she had been given a message in the moments before she had spotted Jonas hanging from the vampire’s back. She had to go; but she didn’t want to leave him.

  “Behind you!” Jonas yelled suddenly, as a shadow fell across them. Before she could even raise her stake to defend herself from the new threat, a second vampire appeared out of nowhere, sinking her fangs into their attacker’s neck. As his dismembered head landed beside her, Monique gazed up at Lenora’s bloodstained face.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Lenora yelled. “In case you haven’t noticed, there’s a war going on… it’s hardly the time to be sitting around!”

  “You have to help me,” Monique scrambled to her feet, pulling another stake from her coat pocket and thrusting it into Lenora’s hand. “I need you to protect him,” she indicated where Jonas was groaning as he rolled from side to side on the floor. “There’s something I need to do. It’s important.” Spoken with the air of someone much, much older, Lenora couldn’t miss the gravity in Monique’s statement.

  “Fine,” she agreed reluctantly. “Just go!”

  Monique cast one last look at Jonas and then darted forward; the enormous summit of Dragon’s Peak looming ahead.

  Isaiah had stayed behind, in the courtyard, holding the vampires at bay so that Daniel could get through to assist the Fae who were fleeing to safety. Catching sight of Monique’s red hair, and despatching five vampires in as many seconds, he moved to intercept her.

  “I know where it is!” she yelled as she drew nearer. “I know where the Hawkstone is hidden!”

  In those moments she had been unresponsive Monique had been granted a vision, one that showed her the precise location of the stone. Monique knew she hadn’t been imagining it. The location of the Hawkstone was so unbelievable it could only be true. At her words, Isaiah felt hope flare in his chest.

  “Braddon!” he called the only other Guardian he could see. The others had scattered, fighting battles of their own. Braddon reached him in seconds. “Monique knows where the Hawkstone is,” Isaiah explained quickly. “You need to make sure she gets to it. Go!” He stepped aside as they streaked past him, determined to prevent any vampires from following. His duty was to make sure that every one of them fulfilled their own.

  Monique ran for her life, faster than she ever had before. Braddon stayed on her heels, his keen eye scouring their surrounds for any danger. As they neared the base of the mountains, Monique let out a high piercing whistle, just as another group of vampires burst from the trees to their left.

  “Keep going!” Braddon yelled, turning to face the oncoming horde. “Nothing is more important than finding that stone!”

  Monique faltered, knowing that there were too many for him to face alone but then she heard the heavy flapping above her and she raced on. The Orochian plummeted down to the ground, directly overhead, landing above her so that Monique was protected beneath its powerful legs. She climbed onto its broad back, tucking her legs into the dragon’s neck.

  Braddon watched the group of vampires approaching with a determined acceptance of his fate. He would die, of that there was no doubt, but he would take as many of these evil creatures with him as he could. Risking a glance behind him, he felt immense relief that Monique was astride the ugly brute. She, at least, would be okay for now. Pulling the bottles of Cliffdale water from his pockets, he removed the stoppers and braced himself.

  The vampires were only a few yards away when he heard the roaring hiss. Wonderstruck, Braddon watched as the Orochian swooped so low to the ground that its massive claws gouged trenches in the grass below. Fire erupted from its open mouth, engulfing the vampires, most of whom burst into flames. The heat seared Braddon’s face, but a moment later the flapping of the Orochian’s powerful wings sent a gust of wind that blew his hair back.

  “Get on!” Monique yelled, trying to be heard over the screaming of the dying vampires.

  The second he pulled himself up behind her, the dragon soared, climbing so quickly that Braddon lost his breath. He didn’t question their destination as they swooped toward Dragon’s Peak; trusting Monique to guide them. He had no idea how she was steering but the Orochian seemed to know exactly where she wanted him to take them. As they came to hover over the very tip of the mountain, Braddon realised why only Monique could retrieve the stone. No person could reach this place. It was impossible to climb the sheer cliff to this point. You could only reach it from above, and only a dragon rider would have any chance of doing so successfully.

  The Orochian was struggling to stay in one place, flapping his wings frantically against the drafts, as they veered left and right. Peering over the side of the beast’s shoulder, Braddon caught a glimpse of red nestled in a small crater and he pointed down to it. Nodding that she had seen it, Monique urged the Orochian lower, so that they were only inches from where the Hawkstone lay.

  “Lower me down,” Monique yelled, the wind whipping the words from her mouth as she released her grip on the dragon’s neck.

  “Let me do it!”

  “No,” Monique was resolute. “It’s supposed to be me.”

  “The child will retrieve the stone” he murmured. Pushing aside his paternal concern, he took hold of her legs, his muscles straining as she slid down the dragon’s flank, until she was suspended upside down, in mid-air, hundreds of yards above the ground.

  Monique slowly stretched out her hand, her fingertips brushing the smooth red stone, but before she could grab hold of it, the Orochian lurched to the left and she swung out over the peak. Stifling a scream, she closed her eyes, the sight of the ground so far below her making her head swim. Braddon grunted as he tried to pull her back up, and Monique realised she would only have one chance. As she swung back over the peak she reached out and her hand closed over the Hawkstone, just as Braddon lost his grip on her left leg.

  Chapter 6

  Quinn had finally caught up with Tristan’s group near Lunar Grove, although she had no idea where they were heading.

  “Tristan!” she called, the sound echoing through the trees. The entire group swivelled to face her but Quinn kept her eyes focused on him alone. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Drake. “How could you?” The disgust in her voice was plain to everyone. “Listen to them! Listen to what you’ve done!” The sound of squealing as the unicorns fell prey to the vampires cut her to the core. Tristan, however, looked unaffected.

  “You are brave Guardian, I’ll give you that…”

  It took Quinn a moment to realise that it was Charlotte who had spoken. Her voice was sweet and melodious, sounding more human than she could have imagined. She was also incredibly young; she couldn’t have been more than seventeen when she was turned. “… to come ou
t here alone,” Charlotte continued.

  “She’s not alone,” a deep voice contradicted and Daniel emerged from the trees, along with Blair. Quinn noticed with smug satisfaction that Tristan was suddenly looking a lot less confident.

  “I know you,” Charlotte frowned, staring at Daniel as she tried to place him. Drake recognised him straight away as the Guardian who had killed her and he felt a black hatred rise in his chest. This was the man who had taken everything from him. Daniel, too, faltered, as he reconciled the evil beauty of the vampire before him with the human girl who had haunted his dreams for centuries. Blair showed no such compunction. She had always been reckless, hot-headed and fearless and she charged at Charlotte, her stake raised high.

  Drake moved like a cobra, meeting Blair head-on. Seizing her stake hand, he twisted it savagely before plunging the silver stake into her own chest. Blair’s entire body convulsed, and for a few seconds there was absolute silence as the remaining Guardians tried to comprehend what had just happened. Quinn’s shocked outcry was cut short as a white hot pain seared through her and her knees collapsed beneath her. The pain was raw, and real, and oddly familiar. Then she heard Daniel’s cry of rage and it flamed her own craving for vengeance. Together they charged, united in their grief and fuelled by blind hatred.

  Drake watched as Quinn fought like a woman possessed. She tore through the vampires who had stepped between them, but it was his blood she was after and her eyes barely left his face. His hands shook as it dawned on him what he had just done. He had managed to travel through the City without harming a single Guardian, but seeing Daniel had brought back memories of Charlotte’s death, and when her life had been threatened he had reacted instinctively. Now, a Guardian lay dead at his feet and he was filled with remorse, so painful it threatened to consume him.

 

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