Page 92 of Fated In Ruin
And behind him, a rotting army, so many they disappeared into the darkness, bayed like dogs.
“Get inside the house,” I murmured to Eldric. “Find Angel and Bex. Make sure they’re somewhere safe.” I gripped his arm as he turned away. “If this goes wrong…get them away from here. Promise me, you will protect them both.”
“I won’t let anything happen to them. I swear.” Flames flickered in his eyes, illuminating his face, then he vanished.
On the other side of the tear, the grotesque army took shape. Fifty, perhaps a hundred thralls. Protected in their center, Ravok was a void of darkness, Aria at his side, her hands glowing with crimson power.
“Steady,” Riordan called, his voice thrumming with tension. None of us thought this fight would be easy, but seeing their numbers…we hadn’t thought we’d be completely outnumbered.
Fiona's fire flared hotter, the air itself groaning under the assault, and sweat trickled down my spine despite the cool night air. That faint haze of shimmering glamour between us and our enemies was little more than an illusion, and I couldn't help but wonder if it would be enough.
But we had four—five, if I counted myself—vampires with ferocious magic, and Eldric…I snuck a glance over my shoulder at Crimson House…he would watch over Angel. Get her to safety if Ravok got past us.
We stood our ground, surrounded by a web of fire and shadow and glamour, cool night air crackling with power, as our magicks slowly mixed together to form a storm of devouring darkness flecked with bolts of pure energy.
Shadowy death and monstrous creatures, fire and glamour, and my dark, consuming flames turned into a formidable wall that no one in their right mind would dare challenge.
Even so, those thralls were about to charge across the barrier.
I sensed their anticipation, their bloodlust, like a string about to snap.
And then it did.
39
RIORDAN
The thralls gnashed their teeth, hands clawing the air to reach us. These thralls weren’t really alive—more an empty void where life should be, the echo of hollow souls bound to Ravok's will.
These were not normal thralls, with their rotting bodies and putrid stench.
But there were so many.
Spread out before us like a dark tide, their white faces gleaming with an unnatural hunger, the air reeking of rot.
But it was Ravok who drew my attention, his feral gaze fixed only on Evangeline, and something in me turned to ice. I knew that look. I'd seen it countless times before—the triumphant look of a predator who believed his prey was already caught.
Silas and Alistair were with him, their expressions hollow, as if they were decaying from the inside out. But out of all our enemies, one stood out more than any other. The vampire standing at Ravok’s side, his stance unbowed, head held high.
Nota thrall.
His wavy hair was nondescript brown, his stature slender and except for his large hooked nose, there was nothing overtly distinguishing about him, except he was the only one besides Ravok who wasn’t a reanimated corpse.
A perfectly ordinary, unimposing vampire, and yet, dread crawled through me, the moment my gaze landed on him, as if his appearance masked something far more sinister.
“Give me the girl.” Ravok's voice rolled across the ruined grounds like thunder. “And the rest of you may live. She's the only one I want.” His lips curved into what might have been meant as a smile but looked more like an ugly gash. “For now.”
Beside me, Evie's shadows writhed with ghostly flames, her power calling to mine, dark fire reaching for my light. On my other side, Blake's energy crackled like death given form, our combined magicks churning like star flecked night itself.
We all knew what we had to do, we had to hope our magicks cooperated.
“You won't touch her,” I warned, my voice carrying across the dead space separating us. The words came out calm, but inside, I was calculating angles, distance, weak points.
The chances five of us had against an entire army.
Not great odds, but we'd faced worse.
And Nash was moving his men to the facing windows of Crimson House, in position in case Ravok—or his horde—made it past our defenses. Every guard was equipped with silver bullets, but I didn’t know if they’d kill reanimated flesh.
