Chapter III. Broken Steel #2
“Voss struck, serpent swift, almost tearing Aaron’s jaw off with his claws.
My brother was sent reeling backward, spraying blood and cursing as his boot snagged on the broken altar stones.
His blade had been splintered like glass, perhaps only a foot remaining above the haft, but Epitaph was still in Aaron’s grip as he hit the ground with a curse.
“He’d fallen near the dais’s heart, gasping and torn. Dior was yet nailed to the wheel behind him, head hung low, stone spattered with her blood. Aaron staggered to his feet, looked to the girl, his voice a whisper.
“‘Forgive me, child.’
“And eyes on Voss, he drew his broken blade along her skin.
“Dior moaned, yet still didn’t open her eyes as Aaron sliced her thigh open. I knew the wound would heal, but I still flinched as Aaron cut her, deep enough to coat the edges of his blade in her holy blood.
“Morgane cried warning, and Patience screamed as Aaron advanced, the jagged remains of his sword dripping in his hands. The game had changed now, sure and true—one strike from that broken steel could set even Voss’s flesh aflame.
Fabién actually looked afeared as Aaron struck, head, throat, belly, the Forever King twisting aside the blows, slapping the last of them away.
But with all the deadly skill he’d honed in his years in the monastery, the strength of the Untamed in his veins, Aaron’s broken blade finally struck true, slicing through the palm of Voss’s outstretched hand.
“Voss roared, flailing, left hand now ablaze.
Holy fire roaring over his flesh, Fabién fell back to the ground, plunging his arm into the ancient sands across the cathedral floor.
But raising his sword to finish the execution, Aaron faltered as a figure lunged from the shadows, barring his way to the fallen Forever King.
“‘Baptiste…’
“The blackthumb now stood between husband and prey. One hand was raised in supplication, the other holding a sword, eyes full of desperate, hopeless love.
“‘Please, don’t,’ he whispered.
“‘Get out of the way, love,’ Aaron growled.
“‘No.’
“‘Baptiste, I swear God—’
“‘All our lives, they tried to keep us apart!’ Baptiste cried. ‘The mob! The Church! The fucking Brotherhood! But we defied them all, Aaron! Because we loved each other! And now, after spurning the will of God himself, you tell me we’re still to be parted?’
“Baptiste shook his head, tears spilling down his cheeks.
“‘I wanted to grow old with you! But if I must live in darkness to stay at your side, then I do it gladly!’ Baptiste clenched his jaw, standing tall. ‘I want this, Aaron!’
“‘Then kill me.’
“Baptiste blinked, bewildered.
“‘… What? ’
“‘Kill me!’ Aaron roared. ‘Lift your sword, husband mine, and deliver me below!’
“Aaron stalked forward, Baptiste fell back, eyes wide as Aaron bellowed.
“‘Do it! I’d prefer flame eternal than to see you join me in living hell!’
“Baptiste raised his blade, tears in his eyes. But Aaron smashed it aside.
“‘That won’t be enough, love! It’ll take the blood of the Redeemer to end me!’
“Fire blazed in Aaron’s gaze as he grabbed his husband’s hand. And wrapping it around Epitaph’s haft, he turned the broken blade toward himself, poised above his heart.
“‘There it is.’
“They hung frozen in that shattered cathedral, staring into each other’s eyes. Bloody tears spilled down Aaron’s cheeks, his husband weeping with him. So much love. So much pain. And Baptiste whispered then, breaking whatever was left of my wretched heart.
“‘It’s not fair.’
“‘I know.’
“‘I love you so m-much.’
“‘I know.’
“Baptiste hung his head.
“His hand fell from Epitaph’s haft.
“And the Forever King pushed.”
The Last Silversaint fell still. Silence rang in the cell of Sul Adair, Jean-Francois watching as Gabriel lifted the bottle to his lips and drank. He swallowed once, twice, a ribbon of wondrous red spilling down his stubbled chin. And as he lowered the bottle, tears fell from his eye.
“I t-tried to cry warning,” he whispered.
“But Voss had beaten me so badly, I could barely draw breath. I watched him rise up behind Baptiste, the flesh of his arm burned back to bone. And hatred in his eyes, he took hold of my brother’s shoulders and shoved.
A thousand years his tally on this cruel earth—no Dyvok to be sure, but Fabién’s strength was titanic.
Enough to drive Baptiste’s chest onto Epitaph’s haft, the pommel bursting out through his back in a spray of red as the broken blade plunged through Aaron’s heart.
“And where the Redeemer’s blood touched…”
Gabriel hung his head, tears pattering on the stone beneath him.
“I screamed as they burned. Entwined on that broken steel. Embracing in those hungry flames. I’d known them both since we were boys.
Back when we believed we’d make a difference.
That we’d somehow save this world. You never know friendship as fierce as the ones you find when you’re a child, vampire.
Aaron and Baptiste had been part of the fire that forged me into the man I’d become.
“But whatever was left of him died as his friends did.
“I tried to rise as Voss stalked toward me, seizing me in one blackened claw and dragging me off the stone. But I was yet too broken to fight. He gazed into my eyes, and upon his, I saw myself reflected; alone, bleeding, utterly at his mercy.
“‘So it ends. And so it begins.’”