Chapter 41
CHAPTER
FORTY-ONE
“I am starting to seriously loathe vampires,” Sylvara growled as she shook one of them off her back and used her ax to behead the other. Huh. It had never been that easy to kill those Of the Bloode before.
She swung her ax again, taking the arms of another. She shrieked, and the eyes and ears of several fangers near her bled. “You fucking traitors. We’re supposed to be fighting together.”
She glared at the nearby vrykos and draugrs, bemused when black dots appeared on their faces in patches. Okay, that wasn’t normal.
Had the Darkness that Comes infected them somehow?
She continued to rage, exhilarated and growing stronger with each swing of her ax. The many scratches and bruises she received only enhanced her need to fight harder. She flew into the battle on wings of pure energy and used her lightning to contain the closest danger.
Yet it felt too easy. Not the way her battles normally went.
Everything continued as if scripted. Sylvara fought hard, meeting each contest of strength with victory. Until she heard an inhuman scream filled with grief so strong she wanted to weep.
The others around her clutched their ears, shook off the roar, then continued to fight against the mages, lycans, and witches battling to preserve the sanctity of Hecate’s crossroads.
Blood flew, bones cracked, and people died horribly. The frenetic energy of conquest seethed, saturating the air.
Pure chaos. And Sylvara loved it. She could see why the vampires had been so eager to attend this battle. In fact, she had half a mind to take a few of the fallen with her back to Fólkvangr…
No. First, help save the world. Then recruit for Ragnarok.
“Something’s wrong,” a mage said as he came to stand next to her. His blue eyes glowed—an unnatural sight for a mage. Interesting. His powerful aura warned her to be wary as well.
“Of course something’s wrong,” she said drily. “We’re fighting chaos.”
“The dragon’s losing it.” He pointed above the house.
She looked up to see Khent circling and circling, out of control, and setting a blaze to everything, including the house.
“Shit.”
He circled to the front of the house, glared at everyone—including her—and unleashed a fire hot enough to burn the ice in Niflheim.
Only her fast reaction to dodge and take the mage with her saved them from frying while the house remained unharmed.
“Thanks,” the guy said and stood.
Then he vanished.
“Whatever.” She stood, concerned that something had happened to Val. Khent wouldn’t lose it like that unless…
Rolf appeared on the rooftop and launched himself at the dragon. After punching Khent in the snout and sending him crashing to the ground, Rolf landed by her. “We’ve got problems.”
Khent shifted into a man’s form as he rose from the ground. Immediately, a host of contaminated magir and vampires fell on him, saturating the reaper with chaos.
Instead of fighting back, Khent remained still. “Take me to her. Now.”
“Shit. Khent, no,” Rolf yelled and sent runes to surround the reaper. But Khent refused them. And then he was buried under black goo and just…gone.
She stared in shocked silence, unsure about what she’d just seen.
Rolf wasn’t smiling. “You fucking asshole,” he swore. He lit up the sky with his magic and chanted under his breath.
She felt the power building, a pressure of it heavy on her chest. A loud boom rent the air, and the host of enemy gathered on the front lawn burned in an unholy fire. Adding her lightning to the decimation, she and Rolf left nothing behind but ash.
Rolf stared in silence.
She did as well, unable to believe powerful Khent of the Night Bloode and Valentine were gone.
The sound of battle raged on. Another roar, this one accompanied by splashing and a woman’s shrill cry that pierced the night.
“What the fuck is going on now?” Rolf charged around the house. She flew over to join him and spotted Orion fighting through the clinging black of chaos toward his mate. But Kaia’s eyes had already glazed over with white, and she fell under the water, bloodied, sightless, then gone.
Orion reached for her with desperation, his hand outstretched, as the black substance crept over his body and up past his neck to his face. In a blink, he vanished.
Duncan was nowhere to be seen, and neither was Macy. But Kraft and Riley continued to fight back-to-back, unaffected by the splatters of black goo around them.
Sylvara hurried to join them. “What’s going on?”
“Duncan’s gone. Orion too, as you saw,” Kraft said grimly.
“It’s not the vampires and the turned magir.
It’s the chaos. It’s taken them over through their mates.
Val and Macy went first. The jotuns and titans were tough enough for Orion to handle, but he was containing the threat.
Then Kaia tried to climb out of the water to help Macy and got bitten.
” He beheaded an attacking draugr with ease.
“We can’t keep this up. We need to regroup. ”
She could see the grief he tried to hide before he went back to fighting alongside Riley.
The swell of approaching enemy seemed never-ending.
Rolf reappeared next to her, covered in bloode and chaos.
A flash of panic came and went as she realized he was unaffected by the nasty stuff.
“So gross.” He stared around them, flinging the black goo away. “What’s going on? Where the fuck is Varu?”
“At least the house is protected,” she offered.
And spoke too soon.
Two elves crashed out of the upper glass doors of the house onto the back lawn.
One female dusk elf, a lovely gray and beautiful even in death, lay unmoving, a dagger in her chest. The other, a dark elf, had broken legs but continued to try to attack the woman who kicked him several feet away, so hard he stopped moving.
The blond woman looked just like Skuld, appearing as if a human in her prime, attractive, strong, and fierce. Dressed in jeans and a tee-shirt adorned with a kitten in a longboat, oddly enough, she had long blond hair pulled back, two braids on either side of her face.
The name came to Sylvara out of nowhere. “Hafandi?”
As Sylvara watched, a dark blue line appeared across the woman’s face, from one eye to the other across the bridge of her nose—just like Sylvara’s aunts. Under each eye, four small bolts appeared.
Hafandi saw her and smiled. “Ah, there you are. What could be has finally come to pass. Isn’t it exciting?”
Varu appeared out of nowhere and sliced through the woman, who was no longer there. Not that he cared. He stared down at his dead mate, frozen.
Enemy and friend alike stopped as well.
Rolf drew Sylvara back with him, slowly edging away. “Fuck. We need to go.”
Varu looked up, his eyes black, devoid of feeling. “We kill them all.”
“We kill them all,” echoed around the field, from every vampire, under the chaos and not.
“No. Don’t make me do this,” Rolf whispered, obviously struggling, and closed his eyes in concentration.
“Rolf?” She felt the war inside him, gripped his hand, and sent a shock of lightning through to remind him where he belonged.
Not with Varu. With her.
He opened his eyes and gave her a quick kiss, his gaze lingering on her face. “Well, fuck me.”
“I would, but there’s no time.”
His ghost of a smile worried her. As did his quick kiss. “Close your eyes, love. It was fun while it lasted.”
“Rolf?”
“Now, Syl.”
She wouldn’t ignore his heartfelt request and closed her eyes. A hot flare of light washed over her. Soundless, painless.
She opened her eyes, and everyone was gone.
Nothing but ash littered the ground.
In the distance, sirens continued to blare, people shouted, people cried, and the world went on.
But the vampires were no more.
And then the chaos returned, coming up from the ground, and slowly consumed the world.