Raven's Ascent

by Ben Blackwell

  He looked at me and let his eyes wander from my boots to my jacket, noticing the sword at my side. “And I see you come prepared. I like this look on you,” he added with a smile. “Whoever took the dagger is about to have a really bad day, I guess.”

  I quickly looked down as I felt my cheeks get warm. Seriously, Raven, one compliment and your blushing like a little girl?

  I still didn’t like him that much, and his flirty comments were throwing me off. I couldn’t deny that I felt flattered. He was definitely easier to get along with than others of his kind, but I knew that behind that charm was a cunning mind and a deadly fighter. I couldn’t let my guard down.

  His outfit was similar to mine. Solid boots, somewhere between hiking shoes and military boots. Together with simple dark blue jeans, he didn’t look very special. But on top, over a simple black T-shirt, he was wearing a light piece of leather armor. Clearly custom-made for him, it covered his entire torso, but with stretchy straps on the side, giving him the mobility a vampire needed in a fight.

  It reminded me of the armor that Roman warriors wore on their statues, imitating their muscular body with visible pecs and abs. I wasn’t sure if it was purely to show off his body or if it had practical reasons. Probably just the former. He was still a vampire, after all.

  His outfit was rounded off with leather arm braces, adorned with spikes on the outside. As the leather armor was sleeveless, most of his arms were naked, his defined muscles an unspoken threat to any attacker. He wasn’t just dressed to fight. He was dressed to kill, like a modern-day gladiator.

  “And you’re just missing a mustache and aviator glasses for the cool guy look you are obviously going for,” I teased in return after finishing my inspection. His flirting might have felt good, but I was not the kind of girl he was used to. If he thought I’d be fawning over him because of some witty line, he had another thing coming.

  He looked at me baffled for a second, his brows furrowing in indignation. A moment later, he started laughing. “Yep, that was exactly what I was going for.” He grinned as he actually pulled out a pair of shades from his back pocket and put them on.

  “Wow, you really are a walking cliché right now.”

  “Oh, am I?” he mocked, then took off his sunglasses and put them on my face. “Oh look, generic badass girl who picked her clothes more for looking hot than for fighting. And is obviously dressed in all black.”

  “You wanna test that theory? I can still kick your ass,” I dared him, arms crossed over my chest, a confident smirk on my face.

  Octavian grinned back, but before he could respond to my challenge, the door opened.

  “We got a location,” Allard said. His eyes darted between us, one eyebrow raised, but he made no further comment. When he turned around and walked back to the living room, Octavian and I exchanged a glance.

  “I’m keeping the glasses, though,” I whispered before I followed Allard and put the glasses in my jacket. Octavian chuckled, then walked with us.

  In the living room, only Allard and the witch remained, standing next to the map on the kitchen table. As I walked closer, I could see a few droplets of blood on the map, one of them bigger than the others.

  “This is where you should find the dagger, and hopefully the attacker with it,” the witch said in a soft voice, pointing at the biggest drop. Her voice felt soothing, like a warm blanket, but in her eyes, I saw anger and pain. “I hope you find them and kill them for what they’ve done,” she whispered, her eyes looking over at Lazar’s dead body.

  Octavian stepped forward and put a hand on her shoulder. “We will avenge him, Lizzy, you can be sure of that.”

  Her jaw clenched, her face determined, but there was a tear gathering in her eye. She had known him, probably quite well.

  I suddenly felt terrible about joking around in the room right next to them, where someone had died. We were on a mission now, and I swore to myself that I would take it more seriously.

  “We will get them, I promise,” I said firmly before turning around and walking out the door. Octavian was close behind me, but he didn’t say anything until we were walking through the gate and off the property.

  “You may have my cool-guy sunglasses, but I can top that,” he said as he walked over to a black and red motorcycle. “Because can you truly be cool if you don’t ride into battle on two wheels?” he asked as he put his hand on the seat, looking at me with a grin.

  “Of course you’re here with a bike,” I chuckled dryly, but didn’t move. “I’m not riding on it, though.”

  “Come on, it’s easy. Here, just put on his helmet,” he said, holding his helmet toward me. “Just hold on, and we’ll be there in a minute.”

  Hesitantly, I walked over to him and put it on. He swung himself on the seat, then patted the seat behind him. I swallowed hard, but came closer. There was not a lot of space on that bike.

  But today, I wanted to be badass Raven, not just when I was alone. So I swallowed my nervousness and tried to swing my leg gracefully over the machine. That ended up looking quite ridiculous, as the seat was higher than I expected. But luckily, he didn’t comment on it.

  After sliding around uncomfortably for a bit, adjusting my sword into a better position, I ended up somewhat stable on the motorcycle. “Uhm… where are the thingies to hold on to?” I asked as I inspected the flanks.

  Octavian laughed. “This is a bad-boy machine, remember? You’ll have to hold on to me.”

  He looked back at me and smiled apologetically when he saw my annoyed stare. “No, but seriously. You can just put your arms around my chest. Holding on to the bike is actually more difficult, it’s easier to keep your balance if you hold on to me. Just like dancing.”

  “Do I look like I can dance?” I said, my voice muffled through the helmet. I sighed, but then hesitantly put my arms around him as he turned the key and started the engine.

  With a roar, the motorcycle jumped onto the street, and I held on tightly to stay in my seat. For the first few seconds, especially in the first turn, I was paralyzed with fear.

  I was doing my best to stay on the bike and not fall off. But once I got over that, I dared to look over his shoulder and watch the other cars zip by us as he kept accelerating. We were definitely over the speed limit now, but this was Darkhaven—a town originally founded by vampires—and they still had a lot of pull here.

  Of course, the politicians were mostly human. Vampires preferred to stay out of the spotlight. But behind the scenes, Clan Dulaire was still pulling all the strings. As one of their elite warriors, I guessed Octavian didn’t have to worry about things as mundane as speeding tickets.

  When my heart stopped racing in my chest and I felt like I could breathe again, a strange feeling of excitement rose in my belly. Like riding a roller coaster. I had only done that once as a kid with my mom, but I remembered the feeling. Like I was falling and my body wanted to panic, but I knew I was safe.

  That was exactly how I was feeling on his bike. A part of me was just waiting for us to crash, for me to get flung from the bike and into an oncoming car, or for the crazy vampire to crash into us again. I wondered if and when I would see her again. Right now, I was almost looking forward to it, because this time, I would kick her ass.

  I chuckled at the thought. Where did this new Raven come from? Maybe this was exactly what my life had been missing. Something bigger than small gigs, fighting the big bad guys, and dangerous rides on bad-boy motorcycles.

  A few minutes later, Octavian let the bike slow down before turning into the entrance to a dark alley. My hands were clutched tightly around him as he let the rear of the bike break out, drifting to a halt.

  “Could you not?” I hissed as I was almost jerked off the bike.

  “Oh, sorry,” the vampire mumbled. “It’s easier for the driver.”

  Without another word, I took the helmet off and took a deep breath of cool, fresh air. I was glad for the helmet, since I knew that it would protect me in case we crashed, but I a
lso hated the feeling of it constricting me, blocking my mouth and nose, making it hard to breathe and limiting my vision.

  Following a sudden impulse, I shook my head and let my hair swing around to loosen it up after being pressed down by the helmet, then ran my hand through it to tuck it behind my ear.

  “Yes yes, I get it, you got pretty hair. Now can we go fight bad guys or do you need more time to get ready?” Octavian mocked with a lopsided smile.

  “Hey, don’t mock my hair! My hair is awesome,” I retorted angrily. Then I pulled the glasses from my jacket, put them on, and nodded at him. “Now I’m ready.”

  It was a strange feeling, not just because the sun was setting already, but also because I had never worn glasses like that. It was what I had seen the cool guys wear in movies. The secret agents that topple governments and steal back nuclear bombs and call it a regular Tuesday. And I just wasn’t that kind of cool. It felt wrong. It had always felt wrong. But right now, it felt like overcoming my fears.

  I followed Octavian as he marched into the dark alley like he owned the place. I felt even more stupid, as the dim light made the sunglasses redundant. I took them off, straightened up, then caught up to him, trying to keep up the appearance of confidence.

  In reality, a chill crept down my spine. We had no intel, no clue who had the dagger. Or how many people were awaiting us. We were going in completely blind. And that never ended well.

  7

  As we walked through the dark alley, I scanned my surroundings nervously. The walls were old and brick, the plaster coming off at many places. There were strange graffiti tags all over the walls. Angry vampire faces. Dead werewolf faces. Dead… witch faces?

  “Shit,” Octavian mumbled. “Get ready for a fight,” he added as he looked back at me sternly.

  I drew my sword quietly, but kept it at my side, the tip pointed toward the ground. Seconds later, Octavian stopped in front of the door. Like the building, it was old and rusty, but it was solid metal, nonetheless. He put his hand on the handle and looked at me expectantly. I raised my sword and nodded, clenching my jaw in expectation for a fight. Whoever was in there would have a really bad day.

  Octavian took a deep breath, straightened himself up fully, then jerked the door open. Without hesitation, he marched into the building. I followed right behind him, trying to mimic his confident stride. Unlike me, he didn’t look ready for a fight, wasn’t in any combat stance. Only… strutting. Like we just entered the catwalk.

  The inside of the building looked like an abandoned factory, rusty machinery and broken crates scattered throughout the ground floor. There were at least two higher floors, but the center was open up to the ceiling. It was dark, no light other than the evening sun shone through a couple dusty windows. Definitely not a catwalk.

  “Hey!” Octavian shouted into the empty hall. The metallic echo bounced off the walls.

  A moment later, a handful of vampires zipped toward us, forming a small wall a few steps ahead of us. A few more vampires appeared throughout the building, standing on old machines, on the walkways on the second floor, and spying out of dark doors.

  “Look what the cat dragged in,” one of the vampires in front of us mocked as he took a step forward. “You think you’re almighty, but you have no idea what true power is. Maybe it’s time we show you,” he sneered, then spit on the ground in front of us.

  “Nox Aeternis,” Octavian whispered to me before taking a step forward as well.

  “It is about time someone puts an end to this madness,” he then growled at them. “This time, you’ve crossed a line.”

  I quickly studied the vampires and our surroundings. The vampire who was talking seemed to be the leader. He was wearing a black shirt with red accents, unbuttoned and wide open, with nothing beneath it other than his athletic body. However, I was more concerned about the bloodstains on his clothes than his figure. They seemed fresh, too.

  Otherwise, he was wearing simple jeans and sneakers. Only his belt stood out. Black leather, but covered in spikes. Not nearly as impressive, or tidy, as a vampire from the guard. Together with this spiky, styled up hair, he looked like the heavy-metal version of a vampire. He also didn’t have the calm, superior way of carrying himself that Octavian had. Instead, he reminded me of a mix between the Joker and a cornered animal, waiting to strike. Slightly unhinged, unpredictable, and possessing none of the grace that Octavian had. His back was bent forward a bit, his head stretched toward us like a snake ready to strike.

  Octavian and their leader slowly advanced towards each other, both snarling aggressively. Moments later, they were standing right in front of each other. They tried to stare each other down, to intimidate the other only with their presence.

  The other four vampires to his left and right were similarly dressed, with pale faces and hollow eyes. There was nothing uniform about them, other than their general style. One was wearing a winter jacket with nothing beneath it. Another one was wearing a shirt that must’ve been white once, but was now mostly crimson red, with a “Suck it, bitch” printed on it. I guessed that was supposed to be a vampire pun. It was a ragtag group of vampires, but dangerous none the less.

  As I turned my attention toward the standoff again, there was no doubt that Octavian was the winner. He was half a head taller than the other vampire and likely twice his weight. He looked like he could lift him up and throw him across the room without even using his vampire strength.

  The other vampire seemed to have come to the same conclusion. Abruptly, he turned around and took a step back toward his vampires. But then, with incredible speed, he spun around, grabbed a dagger from his belt and slashed it at Octavian in a wide arc.

  Octavian arched back but couldn’t move fast enough to dodge the surprise attack. The dagger sliced his chest but couldn’t penetrate his armor. He stumbled two steps backward, then quickly recovered and put his feet down on the ground, leaning forward like a bull preparing to charge. That was the cue.

  In the next moment, all five vampires jumped him.

  Ironically, my first reaction was anger. Anger that they apparently didn’t even think I was worthy of attacking, just a useless sidekick. That was a mistake they would not make twice.

  I leapt at the closest vampire. He noticed me in the last second and turned around to face me. But before he could move any further, my sword sliced him from his left hip to his chest. Keeping the momentum from the slash, I spun on my right foot and raised my left to smash him away with a powerful kick. I hit him square in his side, sent him into another vampire and brought them both to the ground.

  As Octavian smashed another one’s face in, the next vampire zipped toward me from the side. The one with the pun t-shirt. It seemed the others were now joining the fight. What had been a ‘two vs. five’ before, was becoming more a ‘two vs. a dozen.’ Not my favorite odds.

  I spun around and pulled a handful of magic into my left hand, then sent it toward the vampire that was charging at me. They were fast, damn fast. He had closed in already and was barely five feet from me when I released my magic, not a split-second too late.

  He was snarling, showing off his fangs that were longer than any I had seen before. His fingers stretched toward me, his nails sharp like claws. But before he could dig them into me, my magic blast hit him in the chest like a wrecking ball. His chest cracked painfully, and a wheeze escaped his mouth as he was thrown back into a pile of crates. The impact of his body turned

  Suck that, bitch, I thought with a grin.

  There was a slight cracking sound behind me, like a popping ankle. I spun around and raised my sword. But the vampire was already there, caught my sword hand at my wrist and twisted it painfully. I got down to one knee as he twisted harder and harder, unable to resist his strength. I suppressed a painful yelp, then pulled magic into my other hand. But the vampire was faster. He grabbed m offhand and twisted it away. My magic blast aimlessly hit a wall, creating a cloud of dust and debris on impact. The vampire didn’t even blink.
Instead, he pulled his head back, snarled, opened his mouth widely. Then, with a dry crack, his head was twisted around, and his body collapsed.

  Octavian had appeared behind him, his face full of anger. His eyes softened as he held out a hand toward me to help me up. I scoffed and got up myself, blowing my hair out of my face. I was fine.

  His eyes suddenly moved past me, looking at something behind me. With one fluid movement, I spun around with my sword outstretched and cleaved in a wide arc at a bit higher than shoulder height. Just as I had expected, another vampire was jumping me. His face turned from hatred to panic in the split second before my blade hit his neck. Then his head toppled to the ground, separated from his body in one clean stroke. I blinked and took a step back, not prepared for that sight. His body fell in front of me, blood spraying out of his neck, soiling my shoes and pants.

  “Eww,” I muttered and took another step backwards.

  I looked over my shoulder and saw Octavian standing right behind me, his back toward me. Without saying a word, we slowly turned in a circle and pressed our backs against each other. There were vampires all around us, at least a dozen, with more lurking throughout the building. They looked at us with hatred, fangs exposed, and claws stretched forward. And yet none advanced.

  They glanced at their leader with uncertainty as he slowly got up and wiped blood from his mouth. “Enough of the warm-up, then,” the vampire scoffed and spat on the ground. He gripped his dagger tightly, his knuckle bones showing through his skin. “Just you and me, pretty boy” he hissed and pointed at Octavian and taking two steps toward him.

  Octavian stared at him for a long second, then put his hand on my shoulder briefly before advancing. Was that supposed to mean “stay behind”? Or was that secret vampire code for “stab them in the back when they’re not looking”? I scoffed at him, but he ignored me for another macho standoff.