Two seconds before an arrow from up high caught him in the throat. The man slammed forward onto his knees, faceplanting in a gargle of blood.
“Trench!” yelled the first man. His eyes scanned the windows on the second level.
I followed their gaze and saw a shadowy figure lining up another shot from an open window. I couldn’t tell if it was a human, vampire, servant, or what.
My feet made one step to the left—
Glass fell on me in a crash of shattered fragments.
My hands instinctively rose to shield my head from the jagged rainfall. I yelled, startled, ducking and jumping into a bushy hedge to hide myself. Thorns bit at me, but it was much better than broken glass.
I whipped my head around just in time to spot a dark blot leaping through the air from the broken window on the second floor.
Lukain had his sword drawn, black cloak billowing as he landed easily on his feet.
I gasped, readying to stand and call out his name—
But two swift-moving blurs followed him from the window into the courtyard.
My conscience went sideways. I felt cowardly for hiding but I didn’t know if he was fighting for me or against me at this point—I didn’t know what was going on. I couldn’t blindly run into a brawl if I didn’t understand the combatants or their motives.
He’s my master,I argued with myself.I have to try and save him!
Lukain dashed left and right, defending himself against one of the shadows, while the other watched.
That’s when I recognized the pale gauntness of his enemy, the unnatural grace with which he moved.
Shit, he’s fighting a fullblood!
Their swords clashed. I had never seen Lukain move so fast. It was totally unlike our sparring matches. Turned out he had been going easy on me after all, after all these years of training and studying.
I jumped up from my bush. My blade ripped out of its hip-sheath—
Then I stutter-paused when I recognized the vampire Lukain fought.
It was Lord Skartovius Ashfen. Standing even taller and more rigid than Lukain, he fought with a calmness and gracefulness that made my blood run cold.
Lord Ashfen’s saber was thin, perfectly balanced in his hand. He effortlessly fended off any attack from Lukain. He parried with his arm behind his back like a fencer. His auburn maneblew in the wind, framing his face, turning him into a pale statue of relaxed ferocity in the moonlight.
While Lukain grunted and snarled like an animal, dodging left and rolling right and trying to weaken Skartovius’ defenses, the lord simply parried and riposted every attack. There wasn’t a hint of worry or danger on his face.
My hand grew clammy on the hilt of my sword.Why is Lord Ashfen fighting Lukain, his guest?
It dawned on me this was perhaps not about me or Baylen’s death at all. It seemed there was something else going on here.Diplomats fighting Grimsons, vampires fighting half-vampires.
The chaotic fight took a new turn, further confusing me. The third vampire, who had been watching after following Skartovius out the window, eyed both of them and then charged atLord Ashfen.
I reeled, recognizing his face when he stepped into the light—didn’t need to see the four fingers on his hand to know who it was.
I had thought this bloodsucker followed Skartovius as an ally or accomplice. Instead, he hacked and bared his fangs at the lord—
Before Skartovius whipped his blade around in a blurring slash.
A thin line appeared in the vampire’s neck and he stumbled back—
Then burst into flames and screamed a wet sound.
I cried out in shock as the courtyard flared orange. The vampire was completely immolated within seconds, and now Lukain and Skartovius had a fiery backdrop to fight against.
