Savagery & Skills: Books 1-4

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Savagery & Skills: Books 1-4 Page 59

by Ciara Graves


  Several shifters in their massive wolf forms rushed across the field through the torrential rains. My lip twitched in disgust and two short swords reformed in my hands, as living parts of me. I shifted my feet and as soon as they were close enough, ran right for them. I tore through their bodies like they were nothing but paper, blood spraying. Their bodies hit the ground with heavy thuds, and I moved on. The path to the main gate was blocked by a massive swarm of vampires and witches.

  But there, standing atop the wall, glaring at me with those red eyes was the only monster I cared to reach. Rudarius.

  His eyes flickered with red shifting shadows as his hands gripped the stone wall. The coward. Hiding behind his army when he should be down here fighting. I smirked, and he backed away, his lip rising to bare his fangs. His blond hair whipped wildly in the breeze. I held his gaze as I took a step closer, then another, as the fight continued around me.

  He fears you, the voice inside my head said with a cackle. And he should.

  Yes, he should indeed. I didn’t even have to close my eyes to reach out to his mind anymore. In his determination to manipulate my mind, twist me around to want to be with him, even fall in love with him, he opened a doorway between us that would only close when one of us was dead. I used it now, saw it easily in my mind’s eye. His body stiffened as I found his mind and waltzed on in. A calm, collected Rudarius was not what I found this time.

  His mind was in torment, watching the battle take place. And though his army was doing its job of taking us out, fear remained. Not of our army.

  Of me.

  I grinned, laughing as I came back to myself, standing in the middle of the fighting.

  Rudarius hadn’t moved, but his smile caught me off guard.

  Something heavy crashed into me from the side, sending me flying, rolling head over heels until I finally came to a stop. Shaking my head out, I stayed on one knee to see what the hell hit me.

  The great monstrous beast had to stand at least ten feet tall, eyes red, foot-long claws on both hands. Its skin was ashen and pockmarked. Its deformed face was twisted and shifted, but from what I could tell, once upon a time, it had been a troll. And Rudarius took it home to his dungeon and messed it up. Its jaw fell open to reveal massively long canines as it roared at me. Spit flew from its lips and then it was lumbering in a face sprint across the field.

  I glanced to the wall to find Rudarius’s smile even wider now. Probably thinking he was about to cause my death. Not happening. No way was I letting a troll kill me.

  Two more swords appeared in my lands, longer than the first set, and I waited. The troll barreled through the fighting, not stopping for anything or anyone, not even those on his side. Vampires and shifters alike scurried to get out of his way. He raised his arm, ready to swipe at me, but I rolled under his massive arm and slashed at his side with both swords. His angry yell only lasted a second, then he spun around and grabbed hold of me with his other hand, faster than I’d have believed he could move. He squeezed his fist.

  I gasped, my ribs threatening to splinter. But I drove both blades into his wrist, and he let me go, clutching at his useless hand. He stomped, trying to squash me, but I rushed around to his back and with a leap, landed on his shoulders. He scrambled to get me off, but I brought the two blades together in my hands and plunged them into the beast’s skull.

  I twisted for good measure, and its body shuddered then collapsed. I jumped off when it hit the ground and stared down the vampires and witches blocking my way to Rudarius. Wielding the two-handed blade now, I flashed them a wicked grin and darted forward, using my power to add to my speed.

  There was no time to think of the others who were fighting somewhere on this field. Of Macron or Owen, not of my brother, or Shane. No one.

  Not even Draven.

  The only one who mattered now was Rudarius.

  And getting to him.

  I swung the blade wide, carving a bloody path through the vampires and witches, not slowing for anything. I punched and headbutted. Sliced through bodies and limbs, watched heads roll as the blade easily slashed through necks. The closer I came to the front gate, the more blood covered my body, matted my hair. The shadows closed in around me, acting like a second layer of armor. They lashed out, protecting my back as I fought my way forward.

  More and more bodies were left behind me, and I spun to my right, catching a vampire’s neck with the blade. His head bounced to the ground and beyond him was the gate.

  I glanced toward the wall.

  Rudarius blurred out of sight.

  “Seneca, wait,” Draven shouted. “Don’t go after him alone!”

  I spared a second to glance over my shoulder to find Draven fighting to get to me, but there was no waiting. I sprinted inside the fortress, searching for the monster who’d started this all. I would kill him, and then everything could back to normal. I could go back to being just Seneca.

  No, you cannot, the voice inside me warned. You are destined for greatness, Seneca. There is no more going back. There is only moving forward.

  I skidded around a turn as I rushed inside the massive stone structure. I paused. Rudarius was close. His rage and fear pressed in around me as if to smother me. I changed my one sword back to two short ones and stalked the halls, unsure of where my feet took me, but letting them guide the way.

  When I reached a set of double wooden doors, I smirked. “Oh, Rudarius,” I called out loudly, “I’m home.”

  I kicked the center of the doors as hard as I could, and they exploded inward. Dust and wood splinters filled the air. I stomped inside.

  The room was large, and the ceiling stretched far above my head. Three black iron chandeliers hung from it, the candles long since melted and burnt out. Windows lined the room; the blood-red curtains were thrown open. Stone pillars lined the right side of the room and portraits decorated the left. More tall iron candleholders surrounded the space, leading to the three steps at the far end. On the raised platform was a black chair, tall and narrow.

  And seated on it was Rudarius himself.

  “Seneca. I see you have found me.”

  His tone was casual, but his red eyes gave away his true emotions. I moved closer, one slow step at a time.

  He stiffened.

  “Rudarius, so good of you to be waiting for your execution. I was getting a bit tired of running around.”

  His lip twitched. “Execution? You’ll not be killing me this day.”

  “Oh, no? Funny because I’m pretty sure I will be. Didn’t you get my warnings these last few days? All those lovely nightmares I crafted just for you,” I replied, and his eyes widened just a hair. “Didn’t you enjoy seeing your own death, repeatedly? Experiencing it, too. What do you think? Did I do a good job?”

  “No,” he whispered. “You did not break me.”

  “Not as good as you did me, I’ll admit,” I went on as if I hadn’t heard him, “but I got to you all the same. Got under your skin. I’m the reason you’re here after all.”

  He swallowed loudly and unfolded his tall form from the chair. “No.”

  “No? I didn’t even ask a question.”

  “You are mine. You understand me?” He stepped down from the platform. “Mine. I molded you. I turned you, and I am your master. You will obey me. You will lay down your arms and take your place beside me as my bride. That is all you will be doing here, Seneca.” The rings on his left hand sparked with his words.

  The order slammed into me, and I staggered back a step, gritting my teeth. If I was a normal vampire, I would have no choice but to obey. But Rudarius no longer had any hold on my mind. The dark fae in me saw to that. I panted, making it seem as if I fought against his orders. He came closer, falling for the act. I sank to my knees, shaking my head, as my two short swords vanished into nothing.

  “Please,” I begged, my voice a few octaves higher than normal, “don’t do this.”

  “You had your chance to join me willingly. Do not fret, my pet. After a hundred
years or so, you will come to see this is the only way.”

  His hand rested atop my head as I lowered it. I had to, so he couldn’t see my smirk.

  “Join me, Seneca. Say you will obey me.”

  I forced a shudder and tried to pull away. “Never.”

  “You are making this harder than it needs to be. Take my hand, be with me, and I will show you everything we can do together.”

  A laugh nearly slipped from my mouth, but I turned it into a choking gag. The voice inside my head laughed long and loud enough for both of us. Rudarius circled behind me, resting his hands on my shoulders with a sigh.

  “You are mine, Seneca, you always have been. My other half I’ve searched for.”

  This time I couldn’t help it. I cackled.

  His fingers dug into my shoulders at the sound.

  I hunched over, tears springing to my eyes as I shook my head. “Oh, man. How long did you practice this speech, huh? You sound so desperate. I mean, really.” I glanced up, catching his surprised gaze. “Did you honestly believe that would work? That?”

  He started to pull away, but I reached around and snagged the hand bearing his rings.

  “Release me at once.”

  I held on as I found my feet, turning to face him, then twisted his arm.

  He hissed.

  “Yeah, never following your orders. Ever. Besides, you already showed me just how strong I am. Thanks for that.” I shoved him away from me.

  He held his hand, disbelief on his face. “No, this isn’t how it’s meant to be,” he whispered.

  “What? Me, standing here, ready to kill you?” I smiled as I recalled my two short swords—created completely out of shadows—to my hands.

  I moved to attack, but he threw his left hand out, and a shockwave of dark energy crashed into me.

  I soared up, and wings of pure shadow sprouted from my back, catching me. They pumped easily, righting me in the air. I glowered at Rudarius as he made ready for his next attack. “You just had to push me.”

  “I will find a way to make you mine,” he warned, and his gaze flickered to the door.

  He was going to run, the coward. But I wasn’t about to let him get away from me. Not again. The moment he turned to go, I threw my sword at his back, and it plunged through up to the hilt. He grunted, but it must’ve barely missed his heart.

  He turned, baring his fangs and snarling like the wild beast he was.

  I landed on my feet. “You will fight me.”

  Nostrils flaring, he reached behind his back for the hilt and wrenched the blade from his body. Blood dripped from it to the stones at his feet. His blood. He dropped the sword and tried to leave a second time. A whip formed in my right hand and I let it fly, catching him around the neck. I yanked him back to me, and as soon as he was at my feet, I released my hold and thrust my right hand toward the doors.

  A barrier of darkness formed, trapping him inside with me.

  I molded a new sword and tossed it to him. “End this, now.”

  He flipped smoothly to his feet, looking at the blade, then at me. “You and I had an understanding once,” he mused quietly. “You were comforted by me. Do you not recall those times? When you cried on my shoulder? When you let me hold you?”

  I rolled my shoulders with a grimace. “Sadly, I do, but those moments weren’t real, and you know it.”

  “Aren’t they?” He stepped over the blade and came closer. “You and I have a connection, Seneca, a strong one. Don’t be the reason it never has a chance to grow, to turn into something far greater.”

  I lowered my blade, remembering all too clearly what I felt each time I’d been with him.

  “I care for you more than anything in this world. Deep down you know this.” He reached for my hand, the one holding the blade, and took it from me without a fight from me. It clattered to the floor, and then he wrapped his arms around me in an embrace. “This anger is understandable, but I can show you how to use it.”

  A small part of me perked up at his words, at the comfort he gave, but it was quickly squashed by the rest of me, silently screaming. Shadows rose within my mind and ignoring the promise I made to Draven to not let myself be controlled by the power, I let those shadows fill every inch of me. Let them build higher and higher until there was only magic. Only the legacy of my people.

  I smiled wickedly then bit down hard on Rudarius’s neck.

  He roared in anguish and threw me away from him, then pressed a hand to the wound. He staggered back further, but there was nowhere for him to run. The truth crashed into him, and his lips parted with terror.

  “I can taste your fear,” I mused as I licked my lips.

  “You… you are not my Seneca.”

  “You should never have unleashed the beast from the cage,” I said casually, my words rough with the power coursing freely throughout my body and mind. My soul.

  I had a brief pang of regret, but then it was gone, lost in the tangled web of my ever-darkening thoughts of mayhem and bloodshed. I formed a new blade in my hand and stalked toward my prey.

  “Time to finish this.” I charged forward.

  Rudarius formed a sword in his hands, barely managing to parry my first attack.

  He shoved me back, but I only came at him harder the second time. Our blades moved in a blur of speed. He spun away from me and landed a hit to my side.

  I screamed and slashed at his face with my sharp nails, drawing blood.

  “You shouldn’t have pushed me,” I shouted as my sword nearly stabbed him in the shoulder. “You should’ve left me alone.” I kicked his chest, and he flew back, slamming into the steps. “You should never have taken me in the first place!”

  I charged him. When our blades met this time, there was a shockwave of energy.

  It blew us apart, and we landed in heaps on opposite ends of the room.

  I pushed to my knees. As Rudarius’s eyes met mine, there was no sympathy left in them. No more care for me.

  There was only the promise of violence and my death.

  Good. I didn’t want this to be easy. I gripped my sword in my hands, and as a battle cry tore free of my throat, I met him blade for blade, ready to finish this.

  Ready for it to be over.

  Chapter 11

  Draven

  A familiar shouted curse drew my attention.

  Seneca. She left a trail of bodies in her wake.

  I struggled to keep her in my sights as vampires came at me, one after the other. I’d lost one of my daggers and my sword a while back, but my last blade remained firmly gripped in my hand. Mud and blood covered me.

  Shane fought close by. Every now and then I heard his vivid cursing.

  Marlie and Lark weren’t too far behind. The damned rain finally stopped.

  We’d met Rudarius’s forces head-on, and I’d worried if as much as they outnumbered us that we’d never gain an advantage. I had to get to Seneca, but I lost sight of her as a massive troll lumbered into view.

  “Seriously?” Shane shouted as he joined me. “What the hell, man?”

  “You go left. I go right?”

  “Yeah, sure, why the hell not,” he muttered, and we split as the troll came for us.

  The beast was massive, bearing a large sword easily two times the length of my body. His greyish skin was wrinkled and covered in coarse black hair. His mouth yawned open wide, letting loose a howl that hurt my ears. His blade struck the ground right where we’d been standing.

  I slashed at the troll’s side, Shane doing the same at his other.

  All that seemed to do was piss him off. He spun around, slashing wildly through the air.

  Shane nearly lost his head, and I yanked him to the ground just in time. The troll stomped his feet, aiming to crush us. I rolled right, ending up between his legs.

  I stabbed upward with all my strength.

  The troll shrieked and dropped his sword.

  Shane leapt atop him and stabbed him in the neck, over and over, until the great b
east finally collapsed to the ground. He hopped off and held out a hand to haul me to my feet.

  “Never talk about that,” I growled, knowing that image was going to be seared into my mind for a very long time. “To anyone. Ever.”

  He smirked as he bowed his head. “Whatever you say, but that was a pretty low blow.”

  Three shifters sprinted toward us, and I shoved him away, back into the fight.

  As I dropped one shifter, dead, I took a chance to pause and looked toward the fortress. Rudarius had been watching from the safety of his wall, but I no longer saw him. A figure sprinted through the fray and then darted inside the fortress. Seneca. She was going for Rudarius. I intended to rush in after her, but Shane nudged me, back at my side.

  “Wendall’s back and look what he brought.”

  Wendall had agreed to sneak into the fortress once the battle was underway and see if he could liberate those within the dungeons. It was a foolish plan, really, since we had no way to know how many prisoners were there, or if they’d be willing to fight.

  Wendall blurred into the battle leading the charge as fae, vampires, and mages followed right behind, looking ticked off and out for blood. Their numbers added to ours and flanked the right side of Rudarius’s army. It’d give us a slight advantage, but not for long.

  “Draven,” Wendall shouted as he appeared in front of me. “The totem! I saw it.”

  “Where?”

  “Center of the fortress. The base is in the dungeons. The mages and fae are powering it. If we can get to it and break them free, we might be able to close the rift before it’s too late.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We saw the rest of his army,” he explained in a rush. “They’re coming, and we won’t be able to hold them off. Not a chance in hell.”

  “Damn it.”

  Seneca had told the Feds we needed their aid. They said their hands were tied. The fighting force of vampires, fae, and demons was not enough to stand against the full might of Rudarius. Seneca’s raw fury reached out to me, but I couldn’t go help her, not yet. If only we had more numbers, then maybe.

 

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