Chapter 19
Gwen dashed into a copse of evergreens as a flash of violet filled the sky. She looked up to see the cascade of magick and was surprised when she slammed into something solid on the other side. Gwen stumbled back, falling into the snow, and snarled a curse from the shock. Her mouth clamped shut when what she smashed into turned to face her.
His wide, cream-and-brown wings arched at his back. His skin was sun-kissed-brown and his blond hair cropped tight to his head. He looked a lot like the man who had attacked her in her apartment back in New York. He was a zephyr. Sweaty, dirty, a bit bloody, and, given the look on his face, very pissed.
Gwen’s heart thrummed with fear as she shuffled up to her feet. He snatched her from behind the moment she tried to run.
“Little witch, trying to help your friends?” the zephyr snarled, sending spittle spraying across the side of her face.
“Let me go!” she demanded. He grabbed her throat and squeezed.
“Don’t speak to me, witch!” He held up his sword as she struggled to draw in air. “I’ll cut out your tongue and feed it to the crows.”
Gwen hadn’t precisely mastered the techniques Niah and Sirus had tried to teach her in training, but she was quick, and he was fatigued; otherwise, it might not have worked. All at once, she pushed her hips back, stepped to the side, and threw back her elbow. There was a crunch, and her elbow filled with pain at the same moment she gasped down a relieving breath of air. She managed to get free, only to trip over a root hidden in the snow.
The paladin snarled with rage. Gwen spun onto her back just as he lifted his sword over her. Blood was pouring from his nose. “You bitch! I’ll make you pay for?—”
There was a sickening thunk. Her attacker’s scrunched face went lax, and he lowered his sword to his side. When he spun around, Gwen saw the knife lodged in his back, right between his wings. Several more thunks followed. With the last one, he fell sideways to the ground, like a downed tree, revealing Niah just beyond where he’d stood, her eyes black. She looked livid.
“What are you doing here?” she seethed.
Gwen shot up, the venom in the vampire’s voice making her take a step back. With the shock of everything and the crushing weight of her adrenaline, Gwen was only able to sputter nonsense at first.
“Sirus,” she finally managed to blurt. “Where is he? What’s happening?”
“The zephyr High Priestess came for you.” Niah bent down to pull her knives from the zephyr’s body at her feet. “You shouldn’t have come back. Sirus can take care of himself,” she told Gwen as she wiped the blood from the blades on her pants before returning them to her harness. “Let’s go. We need to get you far away from here.”
Gwen didn’t budge. “I’m not going to leave,” she snapped. “I have too?—”
“You should not have come back here,” the vampire repeated angrily. “If you get hurt or captured—he would never forgive me. Or himself.”
What her words implied cut Gwen to her core. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “And if something happens to him? I’m just supposed to not give a shit? To hide and run away?” she snapped again, her emotions boiling over. Tears began to form, and she looked away sharply. “I saw it, Niah. In a vision. He’s in trouble, and I can’t just run,” she added with a desperate heaviness.
Gwen looked up, and the vampire’s expression was not empathetic but set and cold. “Yes,” Niah declared. “You can. He would want it. If it kept you safe.”
Gwen shook her head. No. Anger roiled inside her—anger at herself. Niah’s arm was bleeding badly, though she ignored it. Who knew where the others were—if they were okay.
“If you get hurt, Gwen—it will destroy him,” Niah pressed, her tone softening a fraction. “You cannot fight them. This isn’t practice. These are real soldiers. We can help Sirus, but right now we need to find Levian. She can get you out of here. Take you somewhere?—”
“No,” Gwen stated clearly. All she could see was Sirus’s face coated in blood. Like it’d been in her dream when he’d faced the dark creature for her. “I can’t just run, Niah. I know it doesn’t make any sense, but I know that if I leave, he—” She grimaced, unable to say it out loud. “But if I stay, there’s a chance—I was always meant to be here,” she elaborated. “With him. I can feel it.”
All those dreams and visions. They had all led her to this place. To this moment. She knew it deep in her bones.
Niah was silent for several long seconds as she eyed Gwen down. Then she cursed and let out a deep sigh. “I won’t let you get yourself killed or captured, Gwen. I know you love him and want to help him, but…” She shook her head. “There are greater stakes here.”
Gwen knew the stakes. She might get hurt, or worse, but she was tired of being afraid. Tired of running. “I am not a child, Niah,” she snapped. She willed her magick forward until her hands glowed with dark blue fire. Her skin sizzled, and her body hummed. The forest around her rustled with acknowledgement. It sensed her power and encouraged her. “And I’m not helpless. I’m going to find him,” she told the vampire. “Whether you help me or not.”
Niah glared at her. “You know I’m not going to leave you, and I know I’m going to regret this,” she seethed. With another heavy sigh, she turned to the forest and looked back at Gwen over her shoulder. “If I tell you to run, you run. Got it?”
Gwen nodded. She wanted to hug her, but Niah was already on the move. The vampire cursed as she stalked into the woods. “Stay low,” she ordered Gwen. “And watch for my signals. This place is crawling with fucking paladins.”
Niah was fast and focused. She led them through the woods and around the paladins without drawing them into a fight. Fighting would take time. They didn’t have time.
Something moved in the sky, and Gwen looked up. The sight of Barith ablaze, with his wings spread against the snowy night sky, stole her breath. The winged paladin he’d been fighting landed with a crunch in the thicket only a few yards away, and Barith shot forward out of sight.
“He’s useful when he’s mad,” Niah observed, a tinge impressed.
A spray of violet magick filled the air. “Levian and Barith are holding the line,” Niah explained as she went over to the fallen paladin. By the look on her face, Gwen assumed he was dead. Her stomach heaved, and she swallowed to force her nerves back down. “Rath is dealing with the few who were unlucky enough to have made it into the castle. They think we’ve hidden you inside.”
Gwen shivered. She didn’t want to think about what Rath was capable of in battle. She preferred to think of him knitting by the fire or chopping carrots in the kitchen.
“Where’s Sirus?” she asked desperately.
Niah didn’t answer at first. “I don’t know,” she finally admitted. “He went toward the west wood. To cut off a group of paladins coming from the back. He didn’t return.” For as much as Niah had insisted Sirus could take care of himself, Gwen could hear the concern in her voice.
Gwen could feel him. It was the only thing keeping her sane, giving her hope. The moment she’d arrived back in the woods, she could feel he was somewhere near. That he was alive. As she and Niah continued their way deeper into the forest, she could sense something else. Something powerful.
They passed the old, dilapidated stone dovecote Sirus had shown her on one of their walks and headed toward a small clearing. Niah snatched Gwen’s arm, stopping her as they approached the edge of the thicket of trees. The vampire nodded toward something, and Gwen followed her line of sight. Through the thickness of evergreens and snow, she could see someone ahead in the clearing. A dark shape. There was a flash of silver.
Niah pulled Gwen back. “This was a mistake,” the vampire hissed with raw regret. “We have to go.”
A surge of panic jolted through Gwen when a loud grunt of pain cut across the clearing. Sirus. She tried to move, but Niah held firm, pulling her further back in the direction they’d come.
“No,” Gwen declared in a loud whisper as she planted her feet and tried to tug herself free. “We can’t just leave him here alone.”
Niah looked down at Gwen with a strained expression. Her black eyes darted back to the clearing. The vampire pushed her hard back toward the dovecote, and Gwen stumbled, surprised by the force.
“Go,” Niah ordered her. “I’ll help Sirus. You find the others.” Niah pulled two daggers from her harness and stared her down.
Gwen could barely breathe as she tried to absorb everything that was happening. Tried to think through the panic that had overtaken her brain. There was another snarl in the distance, and she gasped.
“Go, Gwen,” Niah repeated harshly. “Now. Run!”
Niah was waiting, Gwen realized. Waiting until she was gone to help him. Gwen didn’t want to leave him. She had to do something. But fear and doubt took root deep inside her. Niah was an immortal warrior. Gwen was…nothing. She turned and ran into the forest. Barith wasn’t far. Maybe she could get to him and flag him down from the sky. He could help.
Gwen only made it back to the dovecote before she heard Sirus yell out, and she stopped dead in her tracks. Instinct took over, and Gwen sprinted back toward the vampires. There wasn’t time to find the others, she knew it. Niah had sent her away to keep her away. Sirus was in trouble, and now, because of her, so was Niah.
The winds stirred as she approached. Gwen felt the forest’s warning. She ignored it. A blood-curdling scream filled the clearing when she reached its edge. In horror, Gwen watched as Niah seized only feet in front of her, her back unnaturally rigid. The knives in her hands fell to the ground. She slumped forward and tumbled into the snow, motionless. Sirus roared in fury, lunging at the woman who was shrouded in shadow near him.
The priestess released a ball of dark fire that morphed into a black-winged, gargoyle-looking monster the size of a tiger. Sirus sliced at the creature, severing one of its wings. With a shrill shriek, the beast took hold of him in its giant talons and threw him back.
Everything began to slow as Gwen watched Sirus fight in the distance. She felt strangely out of body.
The beast tried to claw at Sirus on the ground but soon reeled back with a snarl of pain. Sirus plunged his sword through the vile thing’s chest, and with a few final squirms it evaporated into shadow.
You are of flesh and power. Bone and magick. Iathana’s words echoed in her mind. Gwen knew Sirus would have wanted her safe and far from here, just like Niah had said, but as she watched Sirus stumble up onto his feet, she knew what she had to do. He was coated in blood. His clothes singed, his eyes dark. It was so much like her dream. Her heart thrummed, with fear and love. She loved him, and she knew he would die to protect her. Iathana had been wrong. There may have been many paths she could have taken, but deep down Gwen knew this was the path she would always choose. The path to him.
She stepped out of the trees and rushed over to Niah. The vampire was breathing and not visibly injured, but she was twitching, and her eyes rolled strangely in her head. Gwen could feel the dark power radiating off of her and knew she was in pain.
She looked up, and Sirus met her eyes. The horrified look on his face nearly broke her heart.
“I was wondering when you would show yourself,” the High Priestess cooed as she took notice of Gwen too.
Gwen stood slowly, glaring at the woman with complete and utter hatred. The High Priestess replied with a soft smile. She was pale and tall, with long white hair. A black haze shifted around her slim body like a gown of darkness. Black wings of shadow spread at her back. The silver diadem she wore was set with blue stones that shimmered in the remaining moonlight and coming dawn. Her eyes were black, like Sirus’s, her veins dark and ominous against her fair skin. Everything about her felt vile.
This was the woman who had been hunting her. This was the person who had caused all this suffering. All to get to her.
“Run!” Sirus bellowed before he lunged at Nestra. The dark priestess raised a hand, and Sirus seized like Niah had before. His body was rigid and tense with pain, but he held his swords and strained against her hold.
Gwen stood, her breaths short, her heart aching at seeing him in pain. “Stop! Please, just stop!”
Nestra dropped her hand, and Sirus slumped down to his knees. His breathing was ragged, and he was shaking. Only his swords, which were dug into the ground, kept him upright. He couldn’t even lift his head.
Gwen wanted to go to him. To hold him, but she stayed. “You came for me,” she managed to say.
Large flurries of snow began to fall as Nestra turned to her. “All these years, you’ve eluded me,” she admitted, looking Gwen over. “Such power hidden in such a pathetic creature.”
The priestess’s smile turned wicked as Gwen felt something scrape at the edge of her consciousness. Like sharp claws trying to sink into her mind. Her magicks hummed inside her, recognizing the intrusion, and Gwen pushed the claws away, glaring the evil woman down.
“Impressive,” Nestra declared, her smile faltering slightly.
Gwen seethed with fury but kept her cool outwardly. It was obvious the vile woman was toying with her. That she thought she’d already won.
“Leave them alone,” Gwen told her. “Leave them alone, and I’ll give you what you want.”
Nestra smirked and turned back to Sirus, who had managed to push himself up to his feet. His black eyes found Gwen’s, but they didn’t show emotion. He was calculating, she knew. Trying to figure out what to do.
She hoped he could sense her apology. That he could understand why she was here. Why she was about to do what she was. Tears threatened, but she willed them back.
“You will give me what I want either way, child,” Nestra replied assuredly. “But I am not without benevolence.”
Gwen knew she couldn’t fight her one-on-one. Nestra’s dark, oppressive power was too strong. It hovered around her like thick black smoke, and Gwen’s breaths were already growing shallow as she fought against its suffocating presence.
“Drop your swords and kneel,” Nestra told Sirus. “Kneel to your new mistress, and perhaps I will show mercy.”
Sirus did not look away from Gwen. His eyes stayed on her. He hesitated for only a fraction of a moment before he dropped to his knees and tossed his swords into the snow. Watching it made Gwen’s stomach turn in shock. He would have never done it if not for her. Guilt clawed at her, but she stayed strong.
Nestra laughed darkly, shifting to stand beside Sirus. “I wondered why he would refuse my offers to join me,” she mused. “He was quite determined to die instead.” Gwen’s heart lurched. “Do you know why he would do such a thing?” She brushed two long, pale fingers along Sirus’s cheek, and he recoiled at her touch.
The dark priestess tutted. “You think this dog cares for you, don’t you?” she went on, her voice like sweet venom. Her black eyes turned up to find Gwen, and she smirked. “I know why he defends you. Why he wishes to have you all to himself. It has nothing to do with care. In fact, quite the opposite.”
Sirus’s eyes never left Gwen.
Nestra circled around behind him. “To him, your blood tastes like the essence of life. Nothing will ever compare. Isn’t that right, vampire?” He kept his black eyes still on Gwen and said nothing. “You see, you hold magick unlike any other. The magick used to breathe life into the dead. To wield the shadows and bend the darkness. Magick no vampire can resist, as it is the same magick that flows through their veins. You taste like candy gifted by the gods themselves.”
Gwen felt suddenly hollow. She searched Sirus’s cold expression for some denial of what Nestra claimed, but instead she found a hint of guilt. It pierced her heart, and her surprise must have shown, because Nestra gave a pitying laugh.
“Vampires do not feel,” she went on. “They are only capable of hunger.” She ran the back of her hand over the side of Sirus’s head. “They are true monsters, as they were bred to be.”
Maybe it was true, but Gwen knew in her heart it was not the whole truth. Sirus had held her, touched her, comforted her, and encouraged her. He had made love to her, had cuddled her. What they’d shared hadn’t been just because of her magick. It had been more. So much more.
Gwen kept her eyes on Sirus when she spoke. “He is not a monster.”
Nestra laughed. “Oh, he is a monster,” she replied. “Just as your father was a fool who thought himself clever enough to hide what he stole from me in you. I am not surprised to find his child just as foolish.”
The whispered voices from her dreams echoed through her mind. Child of Shadows. Daughter of Darkness.
“He died just as you will,” Nestra told her, meeting her gaze with a wicked grin. From the shadows a dagger appeared in her pale hand and she plunged it into Sirus’s chest. “Just as you all will.”