“You could’ve just stabbed him,” she whispered as Drake knelt beside her, pointing weakly at the blood that drenched her clothes. “You ruined my favourite shirt.”
“Still a vampire, remember,” he replied, trying to keep his voice calm.
“I like the vampire you the most,” Quinn coughed and she could hear the death rattle in her chest. “But right now I think I need you to be a little more Fae.” If he didn’t heal her soon she wouldn’t survive, although if she was honest with herself, she probably wouldn’t survive anyway.
Chapter 37
“Quinn, just hold on,” Drake murmured, taking both of her hands. He was trying to calm himself and focus his magic. Only when he was certain he had it under control did he drop Quinn’s hands, cupping his own over the hideous hole in her chest. He could see exposed bone and mangled flesh and his vampire hearing picked up the weak and erratic thudding of her heartbeat. It was too faint, too frantic, and it took everything in Drake’s power to keep calm and keep his magic flowing into her. Slowly, he felt the warmth of the magic building beneath his hands. Quinn must have felt it too and she kept her eyes open as they glowed red with the bright light contained beneath them. Slowly, her eyes came into focus as the pain began to subside and Drake heard the clicking, crunching sounds as her bones were repaired.
For a long moment after his hands had returned to normal, neither said a word. Then, breathing deeply in and out, Quinn tentatively made a small movement, expecting it to hurt.
“You did it,” she smiled, when no pain was forthcoming. Drake nodded, but his desolation was tangible. He had saved Quinn, but not without consequence.
“Enah!” Quinn scrambled to her feet, moving over to where Drake’s mother lay. She sagged with relief when she saw that no trace of blood marked Enah’s smooth white skin. Wintyr sat beside her, doing nothing. Smiling, confused, Quinn turned back to Drake, but he shook his head sadly.
“We were too late,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. On hearing the truth, Quinn’s eyes saw what her heart had refused to believe. Enah lay completely still. There was no rise and fall of her chest to indicate breathing and her skin was far too pale and had taken on a bluish tinge. Her eyes were closed and she appeared peaceful, but the enormity of the truth was that Enah was gone. Drake’s mother was dead. She had died to save them, but they hadn’t been able to save her.
The sounds of shouting outside put paid to any mourning and Quinn forced herself to remember that while Aleksei was dead, and deservedly so, the others were still fighting.
“You can’t go out there,” Drake put a restraining hand on her shoulder as she took a step away from him. “You almost died - again! Your injuries were extensive Quinn. I don’t know if I fixed everything properly.”
“You did,” she smiled. “I feel fine – amazing actually. That faery dust is good.”
Drake sighed through his laughter. “You’re not going to listen to me, are you?”
“Not a chance.”
“Okay, wait for me, I’m coming with you.” He turned back to Enah and Quinn didn’t hesitate. Taking up her sword, she ran straight for the opening behind the gate.
Quinn emerged from the Cathedral to find mayhem. The battled waged on. She didn’t know how many of her own people had fallen, but she wouldn’t waste any time saving those who still fought bravely. A huge figure thrashed nearby and Quinn caught her breath. The Orochian had been caught and was screeching in pain as the vampires swarmed over him, stabbing brutally at his underbelly and gouging at his eyes with their claws. Quinn couldn’t comprehend how they had managed to bring the beast down, but she couldn’t see Monique or Jonas anywhere.
“Lenora!” Quinn yelled, spotting the vampire a few feet away. Lenora’s hair was a tangled, charred mess, her face and clothes were drenched in blood and singed in more than a few places, and she had a wild, panicked look about her. Quinn couldn’t remember ever seeing Lenora afraid. Rushing to her side, Quinn seized Lenora’s shoulders, recoiling as her fingers encountered yet more blood, oozing from the multiple bite wounds around her neck and shoulders. Quinn called her name three times before Lenora’s rolling eyes finally focused on her. “Get inside!” Quinn urged, “Wintyr is in there, he can help you.” Praying that the Fae prince was strong enough to heal her, she shoved Lenora towards Drake, who had just emerged.
“Couldn’t wait an extra second, could you?” he barked at Quinn over Lenora’s shoulder. “Damn it, Quinn, you’re not invincible!” Quinn ignored him, knowing that it was his fear for her safety driving his anger.
“Get her inside!” she yelled. “She needs help!” The sight of Lenora sobered Drake enough to shepherd her into the shelter of the Cathedral. He was gone only a moment, but Quinn had already dived back into the fray. She had no lingering effects from the severe injuries Aleksei had inflicted upon her. The Fae magic was truly remarkable. She saw further signs that Drake was getting a handle on his magic. Rather than innocent balls of light that simply stunned their enemies, the Fae were now hurling balls of white heat that set them aflame. They were still ridiculously outnumbered, but at least the Fae were no longer defenceless. Watching Freya incinerate a vampire almost double her size and knowing that their power was drawn directly from Drake, Quinn felt a surge of pride that Drake had mastered his magic. And, judging by the amount of power the Fae now wielded, he was getting stronger by the second.
Drake wasted no time. He handed Lenora over into Wintyr’s care and returned immediately to the place he had left Quinn, only to find her gone. He searched frantically but he could not see her through the mass of bodies heaving and writhing before him. Drake cursed. He had only just saved her from the brink of death and now she had thrown herself back into danger. Of course she had! She was Quinn, after all, he thought, torn between pride and frustration. Out of nowhere, a vampire came at him, fangs bared. Instinctively, Drake clenched his hand into a fist, arm stretched toward the vampire. He hadn’t given it any thought, but the vampire dropped to the ground, incapacitated. Drake walked over to him, examining him thoroughly. The vampire was not dead. His chest rose and fell and his eyes gazed unseeingly up at Drake. He was simply frozen, trapped in his own body by Drake’s spell.
Slowly, Drake pulled his magic back, feeling it move across the vampire’s body like a second skin. Dazedly, the vampire got to his feet, but Drake ignored him. He finally knew how to stop this. He stood completely still, drawing on every last ounce of the power within and then sent it coursing through his body. A white-hot heat converged in his hands, lighting them with the incandescent glow of the magic. Closing his eyes he focused only on the vampires, singling them out in the chaos, feeling their essence as he closed his fists into tight balls at his side.
When he opened his eyes he saw Quinn duelling a hideous, pock-marked vampire woman, who was as vicious as she was ugly. Drake released the magic that he had gathered inside himself and watched with relief as the vampire dropped to her knees. Her mouth went slack and her eyes glazed over. All around him vampires fell to the ground in the same manner, with no warning, or explanation. As the seconds passed he saw those who remained standing – those loyal to Summerfeld - gazing around in confusion.
“All of those loyal to Summerfeld, come here,” Drake’s deep voice murmured gently, and one by one, Guardians, faeries, gypsies and wolves moved toward him.
Quinn moved through the immobilised vampires, her eyes searching for any sign of danger. There was none. It was as though they had been put into a trance. Raising her eyes, she scanned the group moving towards Drake, noticing with a pang that Garrett, two of the wolves and at least four of the Fae were missing. The next instant she was almost knocked off her feet as Balthazar rushed forward to comfort Rowena, who sat with Liam’s head cradled in her lap, her hands pressed against his chest, trying futilely to stem the flow of blood. Liam’s unseeing eyes were open, his body riddled with bites. Quinn felt a sob well up in her chest and a second later it burst from her lips. She had never been close t
o Liam, but over the past few days he had been there for her – he had saved her life – and now he had given his own to protect the wards.
The Orochian groaned, a mournful lament, and Quinn heard Monique scream as she came racing out of the night, shrugging out of Jonas’s vice-like grip and hurtling to the dragon’s side. Her face was a blubbery mess, her eyes swollen, and tears rained down her cheeks as she collapsed against the Orochian’s ugly head, stroking his face with infinite tenderness.
It all happened in a matter of seconds, but Quinn searched relentlessly for the one face she desperately needed to see.
“No!” Tristan’s howl ignited her fear and Quinn broke into a sprint, leaping over kneeling vampires and bodies as she raced toward him. Skidding to a halt, her heart stopped. Tristan was cradling Avery’s body against his, rocking her back and forth as huge, heaving sobs wracked his shoulders. Avery’s eyes were closed, her dark lashes sweeping her cheeks and her face was deathly pale, reminding Quinn painfully of Enah.
“Avery,” she croaked, stepping forward and dropping to her knees beside them. “Avery!” This time, her scream was loud enough to wake the dead, and it echoed on and on in the sudden stillness of the night. Braddon seized Quinn from behind, pulling her against him and fighting back tears of his own. “No,” Quinn muttered, frantically trying to escape him as her arms reached for her sister, “No... no... no... no!”
“Shhhh,” Braddon muttered, “Don’t, Quinn, please, don’t.” Her eyes never left Avery’s face as Quinn slumped back against him, shaking her head slowly from side to side.
“No,” Quinn murmured thickly, “she can’t be... please tell me she’s not...” she trailed off, unable to find the words that would make the world right again. Tristan was still whimpering, a pitiful, pathetic mess and Quinn couldn’t bring herself to hate him, couldn’t bring herself to do anything. Leaning forward she reached out, wanting to touch Avery’s hair, to stroke her face, to have some form of contact, however futile. And that’s when Avery’s eyes opened. A flutter at first and Quinn held her breath, wondering if she had imagined it, but then, an instant later, they opened again. Quinn scrambled out of her father’s grasp, seizing Avery’s hand and praying for all she was worth.
“Avery?” she called, trying to feel for a pulse over the pounding of her own heart. “Avery!”
And then, a whisper, so soft she had to strain to hear it. “Quinn?”
“Drake!” Quinn screamed. “Drake can heal her,” she told Braddon, who reached for Avery. Tristan reacted even faster, scooping Avery up before they could stop him and pounding toward Drake with Quinn and Braddon right behind them.
Drake was watching them approach and Quinn saw him take a step forward, desperate to help, but as he did the immobilised vampires began to stir. Drake froze, channelling his energy back into holding them at bay. “I can’t help her!” he groaned. “Not yet. Get her inside! Tell Wintyr to do what he can. I’m coming!” Quinn nodded her understanding and the three raced back inside the Cathedral with Avery flopping limply in Tristan’s arms.
Chapter 38
“Be ready,” Drake warned the others who were gathered around him. The remaining Guardians drew their stakes, Monique’s heart-wrenching sobs the only sound, although she gripped her stakes tightly. Austin put his arm around her shoulders, giving her a reassuring squeeze before facing forward again. The remaining wolves’ eyes gleamed yellow and the Fae lifted their bows as they faced the mob. Only the gypsies were unarmed, but they raised their fists, prepared to do what they could.
Slowly, Drake released the vampires from his spell. He waited for them to wake but, before they could get their bearings, he spoke.
“Aleksei is dead!” he called, getting their immediate attention. “I am Drake, son of Prince Julian, and rightful heir to the vampire throne.”
“Julian had no son!” A voice called.
Drake bared his fangs as proof of his vampire nature before continuing as though no one had interrupted him. “I am also son of Enah, princess of the Fae. You have seen what my magic can do, but I have no wish to harm you. This war has raged for centuries because two foolish men could not see beyond their own pride. I will not make that mistake. We can live together in harmony. We will live in peace with one another. This is my decision and, as your king, I order you to desist. You will not harm another ward of this City. And, in return, you will live without fear of attack. The Guardians will not hunt you.”
“How can you be sure?” a voice called from the night, indiscernible from the others and yet Drake’s green eyes fixed immediately on the speaker.
“Because I am king of the Fae and I have commanded it. I am also your king, whether you like it or not,” he added.
“Aleksei is our king!” a second voice called.
“Aleksei is dead,” Drake iterated. “I challenged him for his throne and I won. The throne is mine.” He allowed himself a small smile before adding, “But if you wish to challenge me, by all means, go ahead.” The threat was indisputable but nobody made any move toward him. “I am one of you,” Drake continued, “I have lived among you for a thousand years. I have shared your beliefs and your way of life but I have never condoned the Quest and I have never believed in this war. I don’t think you have either. You have blindly followed a leader who had no other motive than a personal vendetta against a man who died over a century ago. Unlike him, I will not ask you to fight, to risk your lives for the sake of my pride. Instead, I ask that you simply live a peaceful life, one without war, without bloodshed.”
“And if we refuse?” the first speaker called out bravely. Drake smiled, a cruel, vindictive smile that made him appear more like Aleksei than ever. The similarity between them could not be disputed.
“If you refuse, you will die,” Drake murmured softly. He waited only a moment for his words to sink in. “I do not wish to harm you,” he repeated, softening the threat. “I am, after all, more vampire than I will ever be Fae, but I cannot allow this to continue. Too many lives have been lost already, on both sides. I would prefer that we do this the easy way. I will rebuild the City and restore its enchantments to protect the precious few that remain from mankind, but,” he added, as a murmur of dissent rose through the crowd, “you will not be denied access. You may live here, if you wish, or simply visit occasionally if you prefer to stay in man’s realm. You will not be cast out. We are as much a part of this world as they are,” he swept his arm across the length of people standing beside him. “You are no longer the enemy. Before Aleksei and Eldon turned on each other, vampires lived among the Fae. We can have that life again. That is my promise to you.”
He fell silent then, his desire to help Quinn blazing inside of him, but he had to be sure that they wouldn’t attack again the moment his back was turned. He watched as they began to talk among themselves, catching snippets of conversation, “Aleksei killed my brother, because he mentioned a peaceful resolution.” “He raped my sister because my mother failed to deliver a message on time”; “you saw what he did to Sloane... and Dimitri...”; “he didn’t give a damn about any of us, and how many more have to die?” Smiling to himself, Drake knew the outcome even before they did. Aleksei had ruled poorly and for that he was grateful. Still, he waited, not showing his emotion.
It happened gradually. It was the second speaker who knelt first, getting down on one knee and acknowledging Drake as his new king. Then, one by one, the others followed suit, until every last vampire before him had bowed his or her head. Drake felt the collective relief as the Guardians and wards sagged. They had been prepared to fight again, but they were exhausted.
“Go now,” Drake ordered the vampires. His voice was far gentler than before but it still left no room for disobedience. “Get cleaned up, get some rest. I will come by to speak to you all and answer any questions you may have tomorrow night. The sun will rise in a few hours. You should find cover until then.”
“What about you, my Lord?” the second speaker asked.
�
�My name is Drake,” Drake replied wryly, “and the sun doesn’t really bother me.” He offered no additional explanation but still they hesitated. “I gave you an order!” he snapped, and without any further delay the vampires got to their feet and headed back toward the village, no doubt returning to the homes that they had adopted as their own during their stay.
“Kellan,” Drake called, and the faery stepped forward immediately. “See to the dragon,” Drake murmured softly. Monique had already fled back to its side and the Orochian was still whimpering. The sound pained Drake but there was nothing to be done for the beast. The dragon clung to life by only a thread and, due to the extent of it’s injuries, Drake knew he couldn’t save it now. Even if he made the attempt, the sheer size of the Orochian could sap his strength and leave him powerless to help Avery. Kellan nodded solemnly, picking up the sword that Quinn had dropped in her panic over Avery. The dragon was suffering. Drake was giving him the most humane end possible.
“Stay vigilant,” Drake instructed, his eyes meeting Daniel’s. “Call me if there’s any sign of danger.” Daniel nodded wordlessly but, as Drake turned to go, he called him back.
“I was wrong about you,” Daniel said, “and I’m sorry.”
“We’ve all made mistakes,” Drake replied evenly, thinking of Blair and all the other times he had failed both Guardians and vampires. As he ran back toward the Cathedral he vowed he would never fail any of them again.
Guardians of Summerfeld: Full Series: Books 1-4 Page 101
