Chapter 64
DANTE
Istood on what remained of the abbey’s north wall—two stories of scorched stone and empty archways, open to the sky—watching the trio of boats cut across the dark water, leaving wakes behind them as they slowed their approach.
Chewing the inside of my mouth, I checked off all the reasons why they’d brought three boats.
One to retrieve the Basin, obviously. The damn thing was too heavy to dematerialize with.
That would be the big one, the burcio with the flat bottom, but the other two?
They were covered in tarps and riding low enough in the water that they were already carrying too much weight.
Filled with soldiers… or Drax?
Or did Giovanni have some other horror up his sleeve? Something we hadn’t seen yet?
“At least he’s right on time.” Emberline had been crouched beside me for the better part of an hour, completely focused, body vibrating with readiness as she tracked her uncle’s approach.
The crumbling stone dock was still serviceable enough for them to tie up, and we’d cleared a path into the ruins, creating a deadly funnel for vampires and beasts of every kind, with the Basin on the far end as bait.
Our strategy called for Giovanni to arrive, dock, then for his mage to locate the Basin while their forces spread out and formed a defensive line around the ruined abbey.
Hopefully, once they located what appeared to be the very real and very powerful magical relic tucked into a stone alcove in what used to be the rectory, our forces would have surrounded them.
Plenty of time for Severin’s soldiers to gain the high ground.
Plenty of time for Emilia’s warrior priests to spread themselves through the ruins like shadows, their sigils dark, cloaked in ancient, occult magic.
For Nico to position himself above us in the belfry of the last standing tower, ready to drench this entire area with deathly shadows, should the Drax make an appearance.
And I was ready to melt any Ashbound into piles of smoldering bone.
All our boxes checked.
Until things went to shit, in which case we’d regroup, like we always did.
A dark chill shivered over my skin, rubber-soled boots grinding against granite as I shifted position on the stone column, my demon recoiling from the runes covering every inch of these ruins. Since none of us could read the language, I’d just have to tolerate the prickling discomfort.
We waited patiently while our enemies tied up the boats, only a handful of guards disembarking, milling around the edge of the water.
Like they were waiting.
Then guards materialized onto the shoreline in neat, organized rows. Fifty. A hundred. More. The waterline clogging up with lines of black-uniformed forces until the numbers began to swing the enemies’ way.
“Too many for a simple retrieval mission,” Emberline murmured. “And what the fuck is in those covered boats?”
Gabriel climbed up beside us, crouching low. “Two hundred so far, at least,” he pointed out needlessly. “Over twice what we anticipated. Giovanni is expecting a trap and hoping to overwhelm us through sheer numbers.”
“More coming.” Emberline’s weight fell back on her heels, breath whistling between her teeth.
The next wave came all at once, as if they’d been transported here by a magic far more powerful than any vampires. These opponents moved wrong, their skin fractured with the familiar orange glow of fire leaking from every crack and crevice in their too-smooth skin.
Ashbound.
Fifty of them, at least, rushing past the guards, some of whom subtly moved aside to give them room.
“You wiped out the Ashbound already on the island,” Gabriel said in a low, careful voice. “There were only eight. And now…” My brother’s eyes flicked to me.
“Doesn’t matter. I can handle them.” I rolled my shoulders, heat kindling like a forge low in my belly. “Piece of cake.”
Three figures materialized in front of the lines of black-uniformed guards, the first wearing a long brown robe barely covering his sandals, soft hands hidden inside his sleeves as he stared up at the ruins of the abbey with the satisfaction of a male who believed he was close to winning.
“Fucking asshole,” Emberline hissed. “I swear, why doesn’t he just give up the act?”
The second was the cloaked mage we’d seen last night, his bearded face half visible as he took his time scanning the tumbled piles of stone, pausing on the runes etched over everything, the clear path leading deeper into the abbey.
That’s right.
You know it’s a trap, but you sense the presence of magic, don’t you?
And you’re only useful so long as you make Giovanni happy.
The third figure… was so heavily cloaked I couldn’t get a feel for his form or see his face, but he moved hesitantly, as though unsure of his purpose. Tall enough he could be Blackwood, but… Cesare was in Rome.
We had confirmation on that.
And there was no throb of power in my belly, no blood hierarchy forcing me to obey.
An apprentice to the mage, I decided, watching him toil awkwardly up the shoreline over the rocks. Backup or reinforcements to access the Basin’s magic.
The mage threw back his hood and turned in a slow circle, gold rings glinting on his hands as he raised them above his head, every guard falling silent as he spun up a summoning spell.
When he stopped, his face was aimed directly at the rectory entrance tucked into the back of the ruins, hidden beneath a thicket of poisoned vines.
Emilia’s enchanted decoy had passed the first test.
The mage said something to Giovanni, gesturing, then the entire group threaded through the ruins.
The majority of the soldiers spread out to form a perimeter, a select few funneling into the abbey itself, their tight formations forced into a single-file line, Ashbound flitting in and out between the stones.
“Positions,” Gabriel said quietly, and vanished.
We let them get deep into the maze—all the way inside before any of us moved.
Every second chafed—listening to hundreds of soldiers laboriously picking their way over broken stone and twisted trees—but they had to be far enough inside that once the fighting started, escape wasn’t an option.
Emberline hadn’t moved an inch, years of training turning her body into a motionless weapon waiting to be sprung, one hand resting on the blade at her hip. Her hair was braided tight, her jaw locked, her shadowed gaze following her uncle until the stone swallowed him whole.
The moment he was out of sight, the bulk of his forces with him, a shifting wall of shadow settled over the center section of the abbey and most of our enemies, cutting Giovanni and his small group off from the rest of their forces.
A shield against sound and smell and sight.
Silence that would buy us ten, fifteen minutes of precious advantage.
The moment Nico dropped that shield in place, I tipped my wife’s face up and kissed her, longing to hold on to her forever but promising myself this was not the last time.
“Stay safe. Do not go after your uncle alone.”
“I actually kind of liked this shirt,” she said ruefully, running her finger over the collar. “Don’t take any chances. Stick to the Ashbound and don’t be a hero.”
I winked. “Being a hero is kind of my thing,” I teased, throwing her own words back at her as Gabriel’s signal floated through the ruins, the trill of a common blackbird.
Now.
I opened my hands and let the demon rise—a roaring, unrestrained transformation that ripped through my bones and covered me in a cloak of fire. Fabric drifted off of me in pieces of ash, and I leapt out over the heads of unsuspecting guards, landing in the center of a knot of Ashbound.
And I began to burn.
War was seldom clean, but my fire cut cleanly through the fire-spirits and guards alike, leaving them on the ground in piles. As if I’d called them to me, more Ashbound came, fire leaking through their cracked faces, falling before me like wheat scythed by a reaper.
Emilia’s priests were as deadly as she’d claimed, taking out the perimeter guards before they could shout a warning, bodies falling, dragged into the shadows before their comrades realized they were even gone.
Gabriel and Emberline went for the Summoners.
I tracked them through the smoke—both of them moving with the same controlled, lethal efficiency.
They fought well together, knives flashing, the deadly guards going down before they could access their magic, Gabriel going as far as to cleave off one’s gloved hands as he was in the middle of casting his spell.
Damn, Nico’s shields were good.
Between the priests, Severin’s soldiers, and the three of us, we’d taken out most of their supporting forces within five minutes and so far hadn’t alerted Giovanni.
I picked off Ashbound wherever I could, roaming between the fighting and torching the little fuckers before they could do any serious damage.
We had a few injured soldiers, but so far, Gio hadn’t noticed his little recovery mission was fucked.
Three Summoners formed a line, and Emberline slipped around Gabriel’s flank, working her way behind them. Two more guards peeled away to intercept her, but I incinerated them with a burst of fire, buying her a few seconds to slip behind the first Summoner and slit his throat.
Gabriel took out a second, then the third.
Not one of them had the chance to use their magic.
And so far, the Drax had yet to make an appearance, thank fuck. I’d had my fill of those little buggers, and if tonight was the night we exterminated them off the face of the earth, all the better.
A patrol of Draconi soldiers flanked a group of guards and Ashbound on the far side of the ruins, and I headed that way, pushing fire into both hands, bearing down on them as soldiers and guards scattered before me.
The Ashbound shrieked as they died, the shrill sound bouncing off Nico’s shield.
“Dante!” My wife’s scream sent me turning, but I was too fucking late.