As we approached the Javali House, the fighting thickened. Bodies piled along the street, their blood trickling over the sandstone and spilling into the river, painting it a muddy red. The air was clogged with the scent of ash, blood, and burning flesh. I was running on pure adrenaline and instinct I didn’t know I had. Every muscle in my body strained, tense and ready for the next attack. For the most part, Sorin handled the vampires lunging at us while I focused on protecting his back.
We finally reached the Javali House, obvious by its massive frame and golden boar motifs. It would have been beautiful if not for the spray of gore and the piles of bodies leading away from it. Though chaos still reigned around us, this area had a foreboding sense of silence to it. The battling vampires were barricaded by the heaps of corpses in front of the mansion. I took a small comfort in the absence of wings among the bodies as Sorin helped me scramble over them to the front of the building. The door had been blasted open, the jagged edges of the now-empty frame looking disturbingly familiar to the damage left by Roman’s power. My stomach twisted.
“They were here recently—” Sorin was cut off by a snarl echoing through the eerie calm.
“I will tear your flesh from your bones!”
I would know that dark, honeyed voice anywhere, especially when spewing such threats. Sorin and I exchanged a look before we jolted into a sprint toward the sound, following the trail of bodies.
The destruction intensified as we drew closer to Roman. What had once been I assumed lovely houses now lay in rubble, flames consuming whatever remained. In a clearing of leveled homes, we found them, the devastation giving way to a view of the sea stained in various shades of red by the setting sun—a perfect backdrop for thevicious silhouettes before us.
Catina was nearest to us, locked in a fierce brawl with a man I knew all too well: Edward. His slicked-back brown hair was now disheveled and stringy with sweat, and his jacket was in tatters. Catina didn’t look much better; blood flowed from a cut on her cheek, and her clothing was in ruins. Both of them panted, their blood and sweat pooling on the sand beneath them, but neither showed any signs of slowing down. If anything, they both looked furious that the fight was still going and fought like it.
My gaze shifted to the battle beyond them. Roman stood against two vampires I also recognized. I swayed slightly, feeling lightheaded at the sight of that blonde hair and the smirk that would haunt my nightmares forever. My kidnapper who I now knew to be Gregor, stood at Codran’s shoulder, both facing off against the tsar. They looked fresh, as if they had just entered the fray, while Roman was drenched in blood, sweat, and sand. I couldn't make out his injuries through the grime, but I noticed he was missing a large chunk of his left wing, leaving him lopsided. A stone lodged in my throat at the sight as horror gripped my heart in its blackened claws; he had clearly been fighting for a while and now faced two formidable opponents in a battle that was anything but fair.
Sorin paused just long enough to glare at me, a silent reminder not to do anything reckless, before leaping to Roman’s side, tearing after Gregor with the ferocity of a rabid dog. I gaped after them, unsure of what to do. I had come this far to make a difference in this battle, but now, staring at the snarling mass of superhuman creatures, I felt small and helpless—much like that night when I had been surrounded by vampires eager to hurt me. My own incompetence threatened to drown me in this desert, but I couldn’t let it. Not when they were fighting a war that had started because of me.
I looked at the blade I clutched, still stained with the blood of my victim—a vampire distracted enough for me to kill him. If he had turned his attention to me, I couldn’t have stopped him. Without Sorin, I wouldn’t have made it this far.
But there was something I could do. One power I possessed.
I pressed the tip of my blade to my palm, watching the blood pool in the valleys until it trickled over, spilling onto the parched ground below. Snarls echoed through the clearing, and I looked up to find six pairs of eyes fixed on me—more specifically, on the trail of blood seeping from my palm. Fangs bared, their hunger radiated from their mixed auras.
Codran stepped forward, that horrific smirk curling his lips. “Oh look, my little pet, come back to play,” he purred.
Panic crept through me at that flesh-eating smile, but before I could react, Roman snapped out of his stupor. He barreled into Codran with a snarl, knocking him off his feet and into the debris. Whatever little I had managed to do helped, filling me with a sense of satisfaction, especially as my family gained the upper hand. Sorin plunged a blade into Gregor’s chest, and Catina took Edward to the ground, straddling him to pin him down.
That satisfaction was short-lived as a girlish voice cut through the air. “Look, it’s the acolyte whore.”
Iliya stood behind me, her pupils dilated, eyes fixed on the trickle of my blood. Being on the run had not been kind to her; her hair was knotted in the back, and she wore a basic pink slip she wouldn’t have been caught dead in before. She was barefoot, likely having discarded the heels she had worn when I last saw her.
“Don’t try to run,” she hissed.
What I felt in that moment was different from when I looked at Codran. There was a distinct lack of fear, only disgust and anger forthe woman who I had once called a friend. And I knew, deep down, I could take her. She wasn’t a fighter. I smiled and adjusted my grip on my blade. “Who said anything about running?”
This was it—the culmination of a month of training with the general of war. It was time to see if I had learned anything. I lunged with my blade outstretched, meeting her in the middle of the charred battlefield. She was surprisingly strong for how dainty she was, nearly throwing me off balance. I thrust my blade between her breasts, staining her gown red as I yanked it back.
A shard of panic that wasn’t my own brushed against my mind. Across the courtyard, Roman stared at me with sheer terror. We locked eyes for just a moment before Codran closed the distance between them, throwing Roman into a nearby building. My heart soared into my throat as my love crashed through not one but two walls, bringing down the structure atop him.
I didn’t have the chance to fear for his safety before Iliya lunged at me, taking me to the ground. I fought to find purchase against her shoulders, but it was a struggle just to keep her snapping teeth away from me. Her nails shredded my arms and torso, reducing my shirt to tatters.
If you die, I will rip my own head off and haunt you in hell.Roman’s voice was a sharp, panicked threat in my mind.
Focus on your own fight before he rips it off for you. I’ve got this.I shifted my thumb to the tip of my blade and pressed it to Iliya’s throat, cutting deep. It sliced my thumb as well, but I didn’t mind the pain as long as she suffered. I tucked my legs beneath her and kicked with all my might, throwing her off me and scrambling to my feet before she could attack again.
Iliya got to her feet as well, her gown now stained to match her wide, red eyes. Without another word, she turned and sprinted towardthe port. I snarled in frustration and chased after her. She wouldn’t get away—not this time. She needed to pay for her actions in blood.
She was fast, but she wore a gown and was barefoot, while I was in running boots and pants that allowed me to keep up. We barreled down narrow, sand-swept alleys, ignoring the chaos and violence around us in our race of life and death. The air grew heavy with the scent of salt and smoke as we neared the port, and purplish flames devouring the debris around us.
We burst onto a weathered boardwalk, the aged wood creaking beneath us, bordering the ocean sparkling under the glow of flames. The masts of nearby ships blazed brightly, flames licking their canvas sails and leaving destruction in their wake. Vampires screamed as they leaped from their decks in a desperate race to escape the inferno. I couldn’t help but smile at the sight—it meant Enso was here.
The chaos made Iliya hesitate, and that momentary pause was all I needed. I rammed into her, throwing her forward and nearly sending both of us tumbling into the waves below. She shrieked, twisting her head to bite my wrist, but I gripped her ratty hair and slammed her head against the boards hard enough to splinter the wood.
“You know that impending doom you feel, knowing you’re helpless to inevitable pain? That’s how Codran made those girls feel every moment of their lives—how you allowed him to make them feel. I hope you remember that when I kill you,” I spat.
“You deserved it. That’s all you humans are good for,” she snarled.
“Wrong answer.”
