Chapter 39
CHAPTER
THIRTY-NINE
Sylvara could feel the hum of destruction from the many vampires around her. The rush of power Varu commanded felt a little scary. And exhilarating. She could tell Rolf felt it as well and sensed even more magical strength powering her…mate?
Loki hadn’t been kidding about her claiming Rolf, though she still didn’t know what she’d done, exactly. They no longer had a distance limitation that would cause harm, thank Freyja. But the connection she’d been feeling with him, an affection that had deepened into something more, was real.
He kept giving her those smug grins and possessive onceovers that used to annoy her. Now she found it sexy.
So not right in the head…
She followed Rolf and Mormo down through the castle to the front grounds, toward two massive portals surrounded by vampires. The repressive energy licked at her, so much of their attention on the lone non-vampires disturbing—even for a battle-hardened valkyrie.
The vampires were not all the same, however. The tribes had their differences. It was nothing too absolute, but the strigoi all looked tall, dark, handsome, and slightly evil. As if they wore their wickedness on the outside. Psychotic and strong as hell yet debonaire, somehow.
Same with the revenants, who put her in mind of bookish serial killers. Polished and fashionable, going to war in suits and ties, designer sweaters, and the occasional blinged out track suit.
Meanwhile, the nachzehrers projected an air of wildness. Wolfish even in a man’s form, they were large and brutish and dressed casually. Many wore jeans and tee-shirts or sweats with sneakers. Their dark eyes and heavy fists promised pain while they joyfully beat upon the enemy.
On the one hand, the nachzehrers were a bunch of brawlers. On the other, a more sophisticated killer lived in the revenants and thoughtful, murderous strigoi.
Personally, she preferred the nachzehrers.
Rolf leaned in. “These guys are so not classy. Wait until you see the draugrs fight against them. It’s night and day who’s better.”
“Rolf, your draugrs seem to be the enemy.”
“So? There’s still a beauty to fighting, Syl. I’d think you’d appreciate that.”
“I do, but I’m not a fan of cheering on my adversary.”
“Well, in our case, it’s more like adversaries. And since it’s usually me against everyone else, I’m all in favor of giving my opponents encouragement. Otherwise, the fights never last that long.”
“Oh, I see. It’s hard to be so much better than everyone else, right?” She sighed. “Never change, Rolf.”
“Darling, I won’t.”
They walked through the rift back into Seattle.
Varu drew close and pulled Rolf aside as they stepped into Broad Street Green under the Space Needle. “We’re going to section off into groups. I need you to be here to oversee everyone while Mormo takes others around the city in the heavier concentrations of chaos.”
“You can feel it?” Rolf asked.
Varu nodded. “Unfortunately, most of it’s centered near our house in Mercer Island. By Hecate.”
“And her crossroads,” Sylvara added, understanding creeping in. “If the Darkness that Comes takes hold of Hecate and her power, it will creep into the connected realms with ease.”
Mormo joined them. “We know. We’ve accounted for that. Hecate’s not alone. The wards around the house are extensive.”
“No offense, Mormo, but magic only goes so far. If we want to seriously defeat this chaos bitch, we should collect all the Night Bloode and take it on,” Rolf suggested. “Kaia and Val aren’t going to do much for Hecate at the house. And Fara isn’t exactly up for battling more than rocks.”
“Gemstones,” Varu absently corrected. “Rolf makes perfect sense.” His eyes turned red, and Sylvara fought not to take a step back. “Hecate formed us to battle this Darkness that Comes. I don’t like being spread so thin,” he growled.
Mormo frowned. “Don’t growl at me. You’re the one directing the Bloode Empire.”
Varu shook his head. “Yes, yes. I hear you. Enough, already,” he snapped and muttered in a language Sylvara didn’t understand.
“What’s wrong with him?” Sylvara asked Rolf in a low voice.
Rolf frowned. “Probably the Bloode Stones. They were powerful before we had all six. Now, he’s probably getting used to having them all talking at the same time.”
“Talking? Vampires are so weird.”
MEC’s arrival distracted them. A small party of four left their vehicle. A seasoned mage approached, swelling with power. “Varu, we’re here. We’ve got trouble all over the city.”
Varu blinked, and Sylvara could see him trying to focus.
He didn’t answer, so Rolf said, “What up, Grand Mage Bill?”
The man sighed. “Just Bill. Or Grand Mage Dunwich, Rolf.”
“Gotcha, Billy Boy.” He ignored the man’s louder sigh. “Varu’s going to make sure those Of the Bloode follow orders while the rest of us fight this thing at the source. The masters are aware that they’re fighting with and not against you. As are their kin. Go forth and prosper.”
The grand mage turned to rejoin his companions.
“But wait.”
All four MEC representatives froze. A large man with the grand mage snorted, and smoke blew from his nose. Not a man, but some kind of powerful demon, was Sylvara’s impression. “What now, draugr?”
“Say the magic word.”
“Excuse me?” The grand mage scowled.
Even Sylvara knew better than to screw with top tier magic users. Rolf was such a pain. She had to stifle a smile, knowing what was coming.
“You know. The magic word.”
At the man’s confusion, Sylvara coughed to hide a laugh. “He means ‘please.’”
“Actually, I meant ‘thank you’ for not killing you all right here and now.”
“Then that would be words, not word,” Sylvara had to correct him.
“Vampires are such fuckheads,” the demon muttered, ignoring Rolf’s chuckle.
The rest of the MEC reps turned and spoke with a few of the vampires, who condescended to respond to the lesser beings.
Mormo continued to put up portals, directing groups in and out.
Rolf turned to Varu. “Dude, get it together.”
“Apologies. The Bloode Stones are being difficult. The Darkness that Comes has claimed a mass of vampires, and the Stones aren’t happy we cannot communicate. It’s…painful.”
“Not as painful as it’s gonna be if your weakness costs you your mate,” Rolf said bluntly.
Varu hissed.
“Yeah, back at you. Now get your shit together. We need to get back.”
Sylvara’s heart pounded. The wrongness she’d felt before had returned. A sense that everything was slightly…off. “We need to hurry.”
Rolf nodded, no longer teasing.
“I’ll see you at home once I’ve tended to matters here.” Varu shifted into a raven and flew off.
Rolf turned to her. “We need your wings.”
“Let’s go.” She grabbed him and shot straight up and through a portal Mormo shot in front of her, dumping her into a scene straight out of an apocalypse.
A giant vampire raged in the water behind Hecate’s home, fighting a fucking jotun in Lake Washington.
A black dragon the size of a bus kept flying in and out of the clouds overhead, darting to shoot fire at the mass of goblins and hellhounds creeping around the lawn while a pack of lycans and mages fought back.
Valentine had a sizable group of dead creatures surrounding her. Sylvara watched as the necromancer continued killing and adding to her undead army while a large wolf mauled demons and tainted mages. She could tell they were tainted as many of them were half covered in a sticky black substance.
Like a primordial blob, it absorbed everything it touched.
“How are we going to fight that?”
“With great zeal,” Rolf said on a laugh. “Drop me, babe. See you soon!” He kissed her. “And don’t play it safe, dear almost-wife.”
“I never do,” she said, offended, and dropped the dickhead with a warning, shouting as he fell, “Stay alive so I can kill you myself later.”
He landed like a stone, surrounded by a red nimbus of magic and sparkling runes.
When one of the tainted touched him, it shrieked and fell back, flaming into ash. Mages continued to use fire and electricity between many of the chaos agents and those fighting against them. Unfortunately, because the black goo was infectious, the hand-to-hand fighters weren’t much help.
A handsome guy in a hoodie with bright, shining blue eyes pointed to a nearby lycan and shot a beam of crackling energy at him. No, around him. “Protect them with fire and lightning,” he yelled.
“Listen to Ford,” Riley yelled then transformed into a berserker lycan, an impressive beast. Sylvara would love to fight her at some point.
If any of them lived long enough to see tomorrow.
Once the other mages understood and coated the fighters with magic, the stakes evened once more.
In the water, Orion fought the jotun, destroying any property close to the water when they drew too close to the bank.
The people unfortunate enough to get in their way died, no question.
Khent, the massive black dragon, continued to fire at the contagion, wiping out the enemy.
Only for them to re-corporate and infect more.
The world seemed on fire, but at least most of those defending the house from the back had things well in hand. From her vantage above, she watched a horde of draugrs descend on the front lawn through a portal. Seemed like everyone had a liminal deity capable of creating those suckers.
But these vampires didn’t seem tainted, which didn’t mesh with what they’d been told.
And also made them worse, in her opinion.
Traitors to their cause. Conscious of the destruction they could reap, Sylvara saw her opportunity and took it.
Calling on the rage always inside her, she shrieked at the enemy vampires on the front lawn and let her fury go, lighting up dozens of draugrs intent on harm.
She landed, swinging her ax, and kept swinging. Screaming and lighting up the area, she cleared a good chunk of them, engaging in an excellent battle. Or so she thought.
When the pair of vrykolakas attacked from behind, she didn’t sense them until it was too late.