Ashra. Surely she had come for him. He had no answers for her—none that she would accept—but still, his pulse raced, anticipating her presence.
He looked up.
The familiar shape of bat wings filled the doorway. The dim light in the corridor cast the face into shadow. The eyes glowed, not pale gold, but bright yellow.
Chapter Seventeen
The bat wings fanned into three distinct silhouettes. Three daevas, eyes glowing, teeth bared, filled the cell entrance. Their grins widened at the sight of their prey, handcuffed to the bed.
Jaden shot to his feet. The motion broke the rail on the steel bedframe. Metal clattered to the ground. Bewildered, he stared at the broken bed and at his wrists, still bound in handcuffs, but free from the bed. Icrathari blood. Thank you, Ashra. He gritted his teeth and yanked his fisted hands apart. The metal links on the handcuffs snapped.
The daevas’ eyes widened. A flurry of wings and talons leapt at him through the open cell door.
Jaden dropped into a forward roll, barreled under the initial attack, and dove for the swords lying on top of his leather armor. His hand closed around the hilt. He spun and skewered the closest daeva as they twisted around to meet him.
The sword pierced its back and penetrated its stomach. The daeva’s screech collapsed into a soundless wail. Rend the soul.
He swung his other sword out. The blade severed the daeva’s scrawny neck. Sever its life.
The headless corpse toppled to the floor.
The two remaining daevas tackled him. Their strength and speed, superior to humans, was no greater than a human-icrathari hybrid, and flight offered them no advantage in the low-ceilinged cell. Jaden brought his swords up to deflect their clawed attack. Sparks flashed as hardened keratin skidded against steel. Unencumbered by wings, he swiveled, spinning around faster than the daevas. He ducked beneath the flapping leather wings, and slashed outward with his blades.
The edges cut across the back of the daeva’s bare thighs. It screeched and dropped to its knees. The second daeva, its eyes wide with alarm, reached down to support its companion.
In that split second, Jaden attacked.
The daeva’s eyes flared even wider. Thin hands clawed with fading strength at the blade protruding from its stomach. Its hiss of agony was silenced with a single blow.
The remaining daeva blinked at him. The viciousness in the inhuman yellow eyes melted into a plea for mercy.
They’re related to the icrathari.
He released his breath in a shuddering sigh and lowered his swords.
The daeva’s eyes thinned into slits. Its upper lip peeled back; fangs glittered in the dim light of the cell. With a low snarl, it lunged.
Jaden pulled back, but claws ripped across his left cheek. He ground his teeth and drove his sword forward. The blade sank into the daeva’s stomach. He twisted his sword. The daeva screamed and slumped over. Jaden kicked it off his blade. The daeva lay limp, unresisting, when Jaden severed its head.
He swiped blood off his cheek. Its metallic scent turned his stomach.
What were daevas doing in Aeternae Noctis?
Jaden shrugged on the leather harness for his scabbards and raced through the open door of his cell toward the communicator set in the wall at the far end of the corridor. He dashed past a junction and jerked to a stop. Eyes wide with disbelief, he stared at the swarm of black wings surging through a distant intersection.
Two daevas swung their hideous heads in his direction. Their upper lips curled back, revealing long fangs. Their black wings flared.
Jaden sprinted toward the communicator and slammed his fist on the console. “Daevas in the tower. Lower level. They’re entering the city.”
“What?” Siri’s familiar voice sputtered from the communicator.
The heavy beating of leather wings stirred the air behind him.
Jaden spun around and ducked. A daeva’s clawed hand swiped through the air above his head. He drove his sword into its stomach. It crumpled as Jaden pulled his sword free and tackled the second daeva. Its claws tore gashes in his shoulders, but he drove it backward, toward the open door of his cell.
Jaden gritted his teeth against the pain screaming down the length of his arm. His gaze flicked to the floor and the grooves intended for the door. One more step.
He pushed the daeva over the edge of the threshold and slammed his hand down on the door controls. With a metallic whisper, the door slammed shut on the daeva’s wings. It whimpered in pain, struggling in obvious panic when it realized its wings were trapped. Another young one, judging from its inexperience. How many of the young ones were the ruling daevas sending to their death?
Jaden executed the two daevas who had been foolish enough to tackle a battle-hardened human, and then stumbled back to the communicator.
“How did you—?” Siri caught herself. “What’s happening down there?”
“Shut down the elevator and seal the central shaft. Lock down the engine rooms and the capacitor storage units. You have to keep them from penetrating the tower’s upper levels. I’m going into the city.”
“I’ll send Tera into the city, but you’re the only one on the lower level right now. I need you to find the daevas’ entry point and seal it. According to my control panel, the outer door is still sealed, but if it’s open, you have to engage the emergency manual lock next to the door. Open the panel above the communicator; you’ll find a mobile com device. Put it in your ear. I’ll be able to stay in touch with you.”
He swung the panel open and found a malleable piece of plastic. He inserted it into his ear. He twitched when Siri’s voice spoke directly into his ear. “Ashra’s on her way down to you.”
“No. Tell her to keep away. There are too many daevas. Can you control the lights on the lower level?”
“Yes.”
“Turn them off.”
“What?”
“There are too many of them. I’ll need darkness to get through.”
“But you can’t see in the dark any better than they can.”
Wings fluttered in the distance, the rasp of leather against metal. He threw a glance over his shoulder. “Too many to fight. I’ll have to sneak past them. Daeva eyes glow in the dark. Mine don’t.”
The dimly lit corridor plunged into darkness.
Jaden inched down the side corridor toward the main intersection. Pairs of yellow eyes glowed, darting from side to side, searching for threats. The daevas clustered together as if they too were afraid of the sudden darkness. Not quite the creatures of the night we imagined them to be.
The only sound was the swish of leather wings brushing past each other. Jaden pressed back against the wall and lowered himself to a crouch, slipping unnoticed under the daevas’ wings. He scarcely dared to breathe as he inched past the swarm of bodies.
A warm gust of air swept through the corridor. Damn it. The outer doors were open.
The traitor icrathari. Was it Siri? Was she sending him to his death?
Resignation wrenched his soul. The identity of the traitor mattered little with the city already under assault. If he could do only one thing to save the city, it would be to seal the outer doors.
He spared a quick glance at his surroundings. If there was a hope of escape, he did not see it. He inched closer to the open doors, groping for the lever until he brushed against a cool metallic rod. He wrapped his fingers around it and pulled hard.
The outer doors slammed shut.
The sound boomed through the corridor. In unison, the daevas swung around, their yellow eyes searching the darkness.
Jaden held his breath.
A pair of eyes moved toward him.
Jaden crouched even lower, moving slowly to avoid shifting the air. Grasping talons swiped over his head. One brushed against him. The daeva hissed a low sound that escalated into an outraged scream. Jaden slashed out with his sword. The daeva collapsed. “Seal the fire doors on the lower level,” he shouted, trusting Siri would hear him.
Impenetrable doors slammed into place, partitioning the corridor and segmenting the daeva invasion. Instead of an uncountable horde of daevas, he had only fifty or so to contend with. He squeezed into a narrow alcove to limit the number that could come at him at any one time.
The daevas’ small frames and ability to hover in the air meant that he still had to face multiple vertical attacks. Bony arms clawed at him, tearing through his thin cotton shirt and pants. They licked his blood off their talons and bared malicious grins at him. It scarcely mattered how young they were. There were too many of them.
He slashed out at a daeva, but screamed when another daeva bit down on his extended sword arm. His grip slacked, and the sword tumbled from his grasp. He recoiled and pressed back into the alcove. He was out of time, and out of luck. The daevas snickered. They held back, studying him through yellow eyes. One ran a tongue over its cracked lips. Their wiry bodies coiled, preparing to pounce.
The ceiling panel above them crashed down. A white-clad form leapt from the exposed ceiling and landed in a battle crouch. For a split second, Ashra held still, and then she leapt to attack, a vicious beast in the body of an angel. A flurry of claws and fangs reduced the daevas to quivering bodies in pools of golden blood. Jaden ducked to avoid the spread of her metal-tipped horned wings as she spun into a whirlwind of destruction. Her wings cut through the daevas. The shrieks of the dying faded into silence.
Ashra and Jaden’s gazes met over a corridor filled with stench of death. His harsh breathing echoed through the enclosed chamber. She was untouched; her white gown stained with blood, none of it hers. Her pale gold eyes, narrowed into predatory slits, widened and then gentled. She dashed forward, her wings lifting her over the carnage she had wrought, and flew into his arms. Her gentle hands pressed against his bloodied, sweaty skin. Her lips sought his in a drugging kiss.
Jaden closed his eyes and sank into her embrace. He wrapped his uninjured hand in her silver hair, staining it crimson, and pressed kisses along the delicate line of her exposed neck.
Desperate for her, he nuzzled her neck. With a sharp fingernail, she cut through her vein and threw her head back, baring her bleeding wound for his thirsty lips.
He drank deeply, the bittersweet taste of her blood filling his senses. Her scent—a heady mix of jasmine and hyacinth—made his head spin. The ache of sore muscles and the searing pain of torn flesh seeped away.
The small cut on her neck healed, the wound closing.
He fought down the whimper of need.
Ashra smiled against his cheek. “Feeling better?”
He relaxed against her body, seemingly fragile yet stronger than steel. Her fingertips tapped a light rhythm against his spine. “Yes.” He opened his eyes and pushed away from her, gritting his teeth against the faint swirl of pain that washed through him.
She glanced up at the exposed ceiling panel. “I’ll take you to the infirmary.”
He inhaled sharply. His father was still trapped—likely dead—within a cell in an area swarming with daevas.
And the city was under attack.
He braced himself against the twin pangs of guilt and loss. I’m sorry, Father. He straightened, stiffening his shoulders against the rapidly fading grind of pain. “I’ll be all right. We have to get to the city.”
She frowned at the sealed fire door. “We’ll have to go another way.” She wrapped her arms around him and carried him up through the ceiling before depositing him on the floor above. “This way.” Half-flying, half-running, she led the way around a maze of pillars to the central shaft. She seized him again and carried him up to the chamber on the highest floor of the tower. From the balcony, they looked down upon a terrorized city. People scurried like ants, screaming and shying from the diving attacks of daevas.
He gripped Ashra tightly around her waist. He nodded, and she smiled.
She leapt from the tower, her wings pressed against her back as she accelerated into a free fall. The ground rushed up at them. The daevas clustered at the foot of the tower formed patches of black against the amber glow of the city’s lights.
Ashra screamed her war cry, the sound vibrating out of her in a triumphant rush of power. The daevas recoiled, cringing into fetal balls. Her wings flared, slowing her descent. Jaden let go of her and leapt to the ground. He was on the daevas before they recovered from Ashra’s auditory assault. His double blades cut through wizened flesh that bled gold.
Daevas circled over the city; their wings blotted out the pallid glow of the moon. The men and women of the city struggled to marshal a resistance, but their efforts were futile. Panicked people jostled past Jaden, their shrieks rending the night.
“Get down!” Jaden shoved a child to the ground. He sidestepped the attacking daeva and brought his swords down. The daeva tumbled from the sky, wailing, as its hands separated from the rest of its body. Jaden pulled the child to his feet and shoved him toward a house.
“Need help?” a familiar voice asked.
He glanced over his shoulder. Talon somersaulted through the air and landed beside him. The remnants of Tera’s vampire army surged past the elder vampire, running and leaping over the terrified humans. The elder vampire wore a crooked, insolent grin, but never was his cocky insouciance more welcome. Talon rolled his shoulders, tensed his hands into claws, and swung out at the three daeva attacking a small group of humans armed with swords.
“Michael, no!” Jaden leapt forward to deflect a blade descending on Talon’s neck. With a disgusted grunt, he shoved his best friend back.
Michael gaped at him. “You’re alive.”
“Yes.”
“You’re one of them?”
“Open your eyes.” Jaden grabbed Michael by the shoulder and spun him around. “What do you see?”
Talon dispatched the three daevas without breaking stride. He coiled and leapt onto a giant Doric pillar framing the cathedral, twisting in mid-leap to propel himself off the pillar and into the air. He tore a passing daeva from the sky. The daeva was dead, its throat and stomach ripped open, by the time Talon slammed it onto the cobblestones. The elder vampire landed in a soundless crouch and took off again, racing toward a large cluster of daevas hovering over the city square.
Nearby, a daeva, wings flared and claws extended, leapt toward two young children, but Yuri, the vampire warlord, seized it before it reached the children. Fangs bared, she ripped out the daeva’s throat, before turning to take on another.
Everywhere they looked, vampires stepped into the fray, defending humans. Ashra and Tera, pale-skinned and silver-haired, soared through the air and tore through daevas with ease; their viciousness contrasted with their seemingly fragile appearance.
“They’re monsters,” Michael breathed.
“The icrathari and vampires defend the city. They defend us.” Jaden spun around to stare into the mob of wide-eyed humans gathering around him. He cast his words out like a net, drawing the people in. “They’ve always protected us.”
“They’ve imprisoned us in the city!”
“Death lies outside the city. The sun destroys everything it touches. The night offers safety and life.”
“But Khiarra—”
“She’s alive, and she is the child of prophecy. She shredded the veil of deception. We were deceived, all of us. The Night Terrors aren’t the enemy. They’ve never been our enemy.”
“But our children—the vampires culled us like cattle; we’re prey to their sick appetites.”
“They don’t feed on us. Your children are alive; I’ve seen them. For your sake, help the icrathari defend the city. If they lose, if the vampires lose, we all die.”
Michael shook his head. The slow motion was hesitant.
Despair tasted bitter in Jaden’s throat. He flung his arm out. “Then clear the streets. Stay in your homes and barricade the doors.” The vampires, at least, stood a chance of battling a grounded daeva. Humans didn’t.
“But—”
He turned his back on his peo
ple. The pain of his physical injuries had faded, but the crushing ache deep in his chest lingered. Swords in hand, he leapt into the battle.
Yuri shot him a tight smile. “Glad you’re back.” She hurled her sword like a spear. It pierced a daeva’s wing. It screeched, plummeting to the ground.
Jaden was on it before it had a chance to gain its feet. He executed it with two swift strokes, one to its belly and another across its neck.
Yuri pulled her sword out of the daeva’s twitching wing. Back-to-back, she and Jaden fought their way through the village square. Like partners in a choreographed dance, they tore salivating daevas off cowering humans and slaughtered the winged fiends. Gold blood blended with crimson and trickled between the cobblestones.
Talon, the elder vampire, fought beside Jaden and Yuri. Unhampered by his lack of wings, he pounced onto walls of the city buildings and launched into the air at unwary daevas who hovered too low. He twisted in midair with the agility of a feline predator, and slammed the daeva down. With a ground-shaking thud, he landed on its back. Bone broke with an audible snap. The daeva writhed, screaming in agony.
Fangs bared, Talon seized its neck between his hands and twisted sharply. Bone cracked. The daeva crumpled, its eyes frozen open in death.
Jaden looked up to the sky, blackened by the spread of wings. Despair clutched at him, its grip icy. There were too many daevas. Ten feet away, a vampire collapsed in front of the children he had been protecting, his body torn apart by a pack of daevas.
“Talon!” Jaden shouted. He jerked his head at the children huddled together against the corner of a house.
The elder vampire nodded. His muscles coiled. Two bounding leaps set him in front of the crying children.
The daevas’ eyes widened. The anticipatory grins on their wizened faces drained away.
Talon’s claws extended, bone sliding against flesh.
The daevas turned to flee, but Talon cut them down, his claws ripping through their thin frames. Bodies collapsed, one on top of another, a mound of death. The threat eliminated, Talon turned to the children. “Go! Get inside.”
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