Children of Blood (Kat Drummond Book 13)

by Nicholas Woode-Smith

Cindy released her barrage of golden energy like a tidal wave, but it began to ebb, leaving ashes and bones in its wake.

  The light faded, and she buckled over, retching and coughing. I held her close. She’d pushed herself to her limit. And dozens of vampires were incinerated for it. But the fog didn’t lift. More figures emerged from the darkness.

  Cindy tried to stand, but fell, tears falling from her eyes.

  “I have to…” she pleaded with herself.

  But she couldn’t.

  Bongani and the Blood Hunter, bloodied and bruised, held their weapons ready as the vampires encircled us. Cindy tried to stand again. I kissed her. She stopped, and I looked into her eyes.

  “I love you,” I said, simply, and then stood to face the beasts.

  I had no weapon in my hand. Just my body. Perhaps, the way it was meant to be.

  I was a man, ready to die for those he loved.

  Perhaps, at the end of the world, that’s all that mattered.

  A garkain, with thick grey hide and closed batwings, stepped forward, its clawed foot crushing the bones of its comrades as it approached. I entered a boxer’s stance.

  Then, a hand burst through the garkain’s chest. The creature looked down at its still beating heart. As if it couldn’t believe its red, slitted eyes. As suddenly as it had been attacked, it burst into flames. The Children of Blood began to panic, turning towards the dark fog as they burst into flames. A blade shone in the darkness, taking off a vamp’s head. It landed at my feet, then burst into flames.

  Only three things could set alight a vampire like this. The sun, purification energy…and the fatal attack of another vampire.

  Vampires wearing business suits with red ties emerged from the dark fog. Without breaking a sweat, they plunged their fists into the chests of the bestial vampires or cut into them with blades.

  I recognised one from the manor. He caught my eye and nodded, respectfully, before grabbing a dracul and plunging his teeth into its neck, feeding from his distant blood-cousin.

  The rapidly darkening sky went red above our heads, clashing with the dark pyre. The Sanguineas vamps ended their onslaught. The one I knew pointed behind us, as a blood-red pillar, almost an imitation of the dark pyre, sprung from the earth. On top of it, a woman wearing a blood red dress, sat on a throne of blood.

  “You think you are superior, king of beastly things?” Victoria boomed, sounding scathing and scolding as the towering pyres clashed against the darkness. “But kings don’t hide in the dark. We aren’t kings. We are parasites, feeding off the world. We are monsters. Predators. And you are hunting on our turf!”

  Victoria charged, the pyre of red surging across the ground, crushing corpses and wrecked vehicles underneath. Nkosiyabo met her force, stopping her in her tracks. Lightning struck and the winds howled as they struck at each other. With each blow, came a sonic boom. I heard werewolves howl in pain. The darkness, the red and the shadows twisted. Human and vampire watched the battle, in horror and awe.

  Victoria manifested a scythe of ruby red fire and sliced into the dark pyre. It cut the essence to ribbons, as Nkosiyabo formed tendrils that darted towards Victoria’s form. She brought up a shield. As the tendrils hit the shield, a shockwave shattered the remaining glass. Bongani lost his footing and fell, as a Sanguineas vampire caught him and put him back on his feet.

  This wasn’t just a duel between vampires. This was a battle of gods.

  I suddenly felt my fatigue and pain catching up with me, as my knees buckled. Cindy, still recovering from burning out her spark, caught me.

  I looked into her eyes as she grimaced. We both knew this was no longer our fight. We just had to make sure we weren’t caught in the middle.

  We still had our mission, however. I stood with a lot of effort and concern from Cindy and addressed the Blood Hunters.

  “We need to find my cousin…and make sure Brett and Kat are okay,” I ordered, struggling to catch my breath.

  “Guy,” Cindy said, disbelief in her voice. I looked at her again, and then to where she pointed. Kat’s bed.

  But Kat and her coat were gone.

  ***KAT***

  Thousands of souls had perished here, among the shifting black dunes of the final stand of the living of Avathor. I had been here before. With Treth to guide me. Among the rolling dunes of blackened sands were countless skeletons, holding the line in their eternal formations against a host that had finally only fallen at Ithalen.

  It had taken Treth and me days, if not weeks, to trek from Ithalen to these wastes. But, in this dream, if it really was a dream, I crossed into it as if going from one room to the other.

  I remembered this place. All too well. It had never been as important to me as Ithalen. But it was important, nonetheless. This had been the field where Treth died. And the field where we’d almost brought him back to life. Properly, and not as an undead.

  Thoughts of my ghostly companion gave me pause, as I pondered the decaying banners and rusted weapons of this ancient battlefield, stuck forever in time.

  I missed him. I didn’t know how long I had been in this dream. But it was too long without him speaking to me. He was more than my friend. He was a part of me. And while Valour and Ariel had become a part of the Vessel, and a part of my soul, Treth was my soul.

  I scaled the sheer embankments, grabbing onto spears protruding from underneath the earth to pull myself up.

  A sense of foreboding struck me as I approached the top. There, I’d find an altar. A black altar surrounded by pillars. The same altar that had been used to slay Gorgo and Treth. The same altar that had sent my friend spiralling through the In Between, to find me.

  And the same altar where I had been willing to sacrifice everything to save my friend.

  I stopped before the precipice and took a breath. I wished Treth was here. He always knew what to say, when it really mattered.

  But I had to be strong. Whatever this dream, vision or spiritual journey was trying to show me, was up here, where I had truly come to embrace the Vessel.

  I pulled myself above the sand bank, half expecting to find a Lich, dark spirit or even Treth. Instead, I gasped. Not in fright or horror. But in excited surprise. A lady with silver hair with streaks of blue, pointed ears and a dress that held the cosmos, stood by the altar. She smiled, reassuringly at my approach.

  “Hello, Kat,” Allandrea said, soothingly. I awoke from my shock and ran towards her, embracing the queen of the Sintari as I would my mother.

  “I thought you were gone forever!” I exclaimed.

  “No one is ever truly gone, Kat. Everyone leaves something behind. Memories are powerful. And they let the dead live forever.”

  She smiled, as she rubbed my cheek.

  “I was never gone, Kat. I’ve always been here.”

  I held her hand, and let tears fall freely. I had known Allandrea for too short a time. But no time with her would have been enough. In a way, she had come to be the mother I had lost. Until I lost her again. But I knew she had never truly left. I had felt her, again and again, inside the Vessel.

  I sniffed, and then released the elf queen, staring out across the wastes.

  “I don’t understand this, Allandrea,” I said. “What am I doing here?”

  “You are asleep. Not in your bed. A dark poison has sent you within yourself. A unified, singular soul would have been annihilated, even from the In Between. But you are special. It only sent the fragments of your soul that are still yours into the Vessel, which is connected to you but still apart.”

  “Wait…it can destroy a soul? Treth!”

  Allandrea reached out and touched my hand, soothingly. “Your companion is safe. He also resides within the Vessel. No curse or spell can harm us here. I suspect, that when you finally do die as all beings will, you may come to join us here, among all those you have touched.”

  I raised my eyebrow at that. “So, there is an afterlife?”

  “I do not know, Kat. But for you, I think so. And definit
ely for us. The Vessel is your Valhalla. Your Elysium.”

  “So…when I call upon the Army of the Vessel, I’m awaking souls from their rest?”

  “They awake willingly. No one resides in the Vessel if they did not believe in you, Kat. They will die all over again if that’s what it takes.”

  “But it isn’t right.” I shook my head. “They deserve to rest.”

  “Perhaps, they do. But we also deserve to be heroes once again, do we not?”

  I did not want to rely on the Army of the Vessel. Cindy and Treth suspected that its use risked damaging the spirits connection to the In Between. That it stripped away their essence. I didn’t want that. Not for my friends.

  But what if I needed them again? If another dark god came to threaten the world? If Thor called on me to finally face the Conclave and their shadow realm within the 6th Convent?

  “What should I do?” I asked, simply, feeling like a child.

  The elf queen smiled. “You know the answer to that already. You have lived it. Even when you don’t know the answer well enough to speak it, your actions say otherwise. They speak for you.”

  I grimaced. “That’s pretty abstract, Allandrea.”

  She laughed. “You don’t become an eternal elvish mystic by being specific.”

  I smiled and felt a weight lift from me.

  “Thank you…for helping me all this time.”

  “I haven’t done a thing you couldn’t do yourself.”

  I frowned. “I’d be nothing without you, or Treth, or the Vessel. I’m just a mutant. A science experiment by an evil man. I didn’t earn this power. It was thrust upon me.”

  “You’re wrong, Kat.” Her smile disappeared, as she stared into my eyes. I could not sense a lie within her starry gaze. “You have struggled and sacrificed. A thousand times. And that has earned you this power. But more than that. Your deeds have nothing to do with the Vessel. You have saved people. You have conquered evil. You’re a hero. You may not have chosen to be the Vessel, but you did choose to be the Last Light.”

  I heard a faint whisper in my ear, calling out to me.

  Allandrea backed away, still holding my hand, as she smiled.

  In the distance, I heard combat. Shouting. Gunfire. Someone calling my name.

  “It is time to go, Kat. Back to your realm. There are monsters to fight.”

  “Thank you…” I called, as the world was engulfed by the void of sleep. I fell into nothingness and closed my eyes.

  The mayhem of battle surrounded me. And through it, I heard voices calling my name.

  And a single voice broke through.

  I opened my eyes and saw Treth’s hand peeking through the blackness. He called my name. Again, and again. His voice hoarse from an eternity of yelling. He had never given up on me.

  “I’m here, Treth.”

  I grabbed his hand and entered the light.

  ***GUY***

  There was no more gunfire. No more clattering of steel. The wolf howls had gone silent. The screams had ceased. There was only the primal boom of two vampiric forces striking at one another.

  I signalled Cindy and the Blood Hunters to stop behind me. Bongani carried Brett over his shoulders. I had found a rifle, clasped by a dead Crusader. He’d died quickly. Not had enough time to fire all his rounds.

  We had descended into the dark hospital. The Sanguineas vamps had disappeared, wordlessly. They searched for enemies. For vampiric prey. At least, I hoped so. But if they meant us harm, they would have attacked us. We couldn’t really defend ourselves. And Victoria now wrestled with possibly the most powerful vampire I have ever seen.

  We’d be dead without them. I felt somewhat vindicated. If it wasn’t for Kat now being missing, and all the men I’d lost, I might even be gloating.

  I took position by a door on the second floor. We could only see the blood-stained walls and previous white door due to the red hue of the sky, peeking through cracks in the structure.

  With one hand, I reached for the wet, bloodied doorknob. I opened it and poked my barrel through the door.

  A figure jumped, and a muzzle-flash lit up the room, hitting the top of the doorway and ricocheting harmlessly into another wall.

  “Henri! Hold your fucking fire,” Krieg wheezed, before coughing. Nastily.

  “Jammer,” Henri replied, bashfully, but sounding healthy.

  “Guy? Cindy?” Heather called. “Is that you?”

  Cindy passed me and embraced the lanky Heather.

  Kyong stood, clutching a bloody cut in his side. He grinned at me and offered his other hand. I clutched it.

  “I could have taken down the king himself if my blasted spark hadn’t run out.”

  I doubted that but nodded at the Tiger Fist.

  “How did you get out?” I asked.

  Kyong looked at Heather. As if for permission. She nodded.

  “Jane said that there was trouble. That the Crusaders were in danger. She used her connections to do a jailbreak.”

  “Kyong…” Cindy started, despairing. He held his hand up to halt her.

  “I know the consequences, Cins. And I’ll live with them. This is my family. I’ll die for it.”

  He grinned. “Besides, being an outlaw is kinda fun.”

  Krieg wheezed as he sat up against the wall, underneath a shattered window. Beside him lay a bandaged Themba.

  As Bongani placed Brett on the ground, I fell to my knees beside my cousin. I listened to his chest, and then felt for a pulse. Nothing, nothing…and then I calmed. I felt the throbbing vibrations of life. My cousin lived. I could cry!

  “He’s alive,” Krieg wheezed. He had a dark bruise just below his neck. Possibly over his whole chest.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “They ambushed me. Knocked me senseless. I awoke and pulled myself down here. I found him in a pile of rubble. Managed to…care for him…”

  Krieg started coughing, spattering a bit of blood onto his fist.

  Cindy noticed and moved towards him; her eyes concerned at seeing anyone in pain. But she stopped. Her spark was exhausted.

  “I’ll…be fine.” Krieg looked at Brett. “Will he be okay?”

  I looked at Cindy. She nodded.

  Krieg smiled, weakly. “The Corps will survive.”

  A louder boom than the usual chorus sent a quake through the building. The group stayed silent, waiting for the vibrations to end.

  Henri stood, and peeked out the door. At least one of us still had bullets and the energy to use them.

  “All clear,” he announced, just as the windowpane above Krieg was ripped apart. Garkains rushed into the gap. Not from hunger, but fear. One of them wasn’t fast enough, and the red and dark pyres consumed it.

  Krieg ducked under the panicked garkains, as Bongani tried to stab through their rockhard hide.

  Henri fired at point-blank range. The bullet made sparks on the vamp’s hide, before it grabbed the barrel of his rifle and bent it backwards.

  I aimed my rifle, impotently, and fired. Again, and again. To no avail, as dark figures blurred into the room.

  Krieg, even while groggy and at death’s door, recoiled as the Sanguineas vamps tackled the garkains, and snapped their necks.

  The fight ended, as three Sanguineas vamps, the one I knew among them, stood among us.

  One of the vamps looked at me.

  “There is no sign of your commander. Not in this world, at least.”

  I sighed. Part of me wanted to panic. Kat was gone! Brett would never forgive me. I would never forgive myself. But the other part couldn’t give in to alarm. I had people to look after. For now. And something told me that Kat would still pitch up. Near the end. She had a habit of doing that.

  The Sanguineas vamps turned towards the torn-out hole in the wall, to watch the fight between the vampiric gods. Silently. Krieg slunk into a corner. Too weak to fight. Too healthy to accept what was before him.

  Victoria’s pyre had shrunk. Her attacks were vicious. Clinica
l. But every single time she failed to block or dodge a blow, her power wilted.

  Perhaps, Victoria was wrong. She wasn’t a monster. She was Earth-born, like us. Unable to truly fight a horror such as this.

  “She can’t win,” I whispered. “She’s not a true vampire.”

  The Sanguineas vampire looked at me. I only glanced at him. His eyes were red, like so many other vampires. But there was something there I had never contemplated in their kind before. Humanity.

  “She isn’t a true vampire,” he said. “None of us is. Because true vampires aren’t from this world. They have never been human. We have. And we know that this is our home.”

  He looked at Victoria, as she clashed against the primordial terror. Unyielding. Unflinching. After every blow she took, she delivered another, snapping at the inevitable.

  “This is her home, hunter. And that’s why she has to win.”

  Nkosiyabo collected his dark energy into a hammer-strike, lifting it above Victoria’s defences. She dodged to the side and, like a wolf taking down a deer, lashed out at Nkosiyabo’s neck with a red-shadowy maw. A deep scream echoed across the land.

  The Sanguineas vamps stepped forward. Eager. As if watching a sports match where their team was about to score.

  “You can do it, boss…”

  Victoria followed through with a mass of writhing tendrils. They snaked their way around Nkosiyabo’s pyre, and stabbed inwards. Another pained howl sounded, digging into my skull.

  I couldn’t believe it…

  Victoria let the pyre collapse, as Nkosiyabo fell towards the ground.

  The vamps beamed. Victoria reared upward, forming a red spear to finish off her foe.

  Then she was knocked off her throne. The red pyre dissipated, as she plummeted to the ground. A new, dark pyre formed. Larger than the previous. Titanic!

  “You are a pretender, impure filth. You consume your kin. You consumed your sire! It is only right you try to save insects. You are less than them!” Nkosiyabo boomed.

  His pyre kept rising, as Victoria lay across the ground, splayed. The Sanguineas vamps covered their mouths, too shocked to react or speak.

  Victoria tried to raise her hand to block the power coalescing above her. Even from here, I could see she was near to breaking point. The façade of the perfect vampire queen had collapsed. She was not a monster anymore. Just a woman, about to be crushed by the darkness.