Chapter 52
“How many do we have?” Caster asked.
“Marcus recalled the Queen’s detail. The new contingent was scheduled to be here later this evening,” Kyle said. He glanced at Damien. “Julian?”
Damien shook his head. “His investigation was incomplete, and he had a meeting with Marcus later today. I am not expecting him until much later.”
Caster looked around the destroyed kitchen, the toxic energy that signaled the witch’s presence permeating the broken space.
Its proximity to the garden meant that the kitchen had taken the brunt of the explosion.
The wall would crumble soon, if the cracks visible even from his vantage point across the room were any indication. “So we are all we have?”
He’d never needed to keep a contingent of guards in his house, given Kyle’s efficiency, and it was safe to assume any vampires outside were no longer viable.
“That may not be a bad thing.” Riley’s demeanor was much too calm for the situation. He leaned against the large table in the middle of the room, his constant glances in Ben’s direction an indication of where his priorities lay.
“Why is that?” Riley’s power was detectable in the midst of the witch’s toxic counterpart.
It was the only reason Caster didn’t see a cause for panic.
And the only thing holding Ethel at bay.
Again, he couldn’t help but marvel at Riley’s ability to fight off a foe without even the slightest of exertion or movement.
He thanked the Goddess, the powerful witch was on their side.
“Necromancy. Her power grows with every kill.”
A rumble tore through the relative calm in the room as each of the three wolves growled at the threat the vampires were yet to detect.
“What now?” He asked Mark.
“Vampires!” It was James who answered, the growl of the animal he contained with unmatched skill distorting his human voice.
Caster knew him from the war. His impressive grasp of battle strategy was only outmatched by Julian’s.
If they couldn’t have Julian in this fight, it was no hardship to settle for James.
He would also be forever grateful to the Alpha for saving Mark’s life that night a decade ago.
“But they smell… dead,” Mikey said, and Mark nodded his agreement.
He wanted to tell his mother to find a hiding place, but she was as formidable as any Born-Vampire, and his protection in that way would be less than appreciated.
Caster stepped closer to the crumbling wall concealing what used to be his pristine garden, Damien and Riley next to him. The wolves’ distinct growl signaled their enemy was closing in.
The scent of death, tainted blood, floated to him, and Mikey’s assessment made sense.
“Made-Vampires.” Damien’s voice was an irreverent whisper. “But why do they…”
“They’ve died twice.” The strength in Riley’s voice was a comfort in the midst of something that should be impossible.
He stepped forward, closer to the wall, and Caster’s heart pounded faster in anticipation of what was on the other side.
Riley glanced at him as he placed his hands on the wall, and Caster nodded his agreement.
A single word, a surge of Riley’s immense power, and that part of the wall crumbled to reveal literal darkness.
It was early evening. He’d been counting the hours of his “everything” day with Mark, so he knew night was still hours away.
The darkness confronting them now had none of the comfort of night.
It seemed darker, opaque even, like a physical aspect of the air that he could touch.
Every instinct told him that doing so was ill-advised.
He glanced at Riley as the first of the twice-dead Made-Vampires whipped across the lawn, its movement too quick.
He would have been convinced he’d imagined it if the vampire hadn’t stopped a few yards from Riley.
He more felt than heard Mark’s gasp, but as much as he wanted to turn to him, to reassure him, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the monstrosity visible in the unnatural darkness descending on his property.
The vampire’s skin was ashen, almost white, the black sockets that were once its eyes staring unblinking at them.
“It can’t get in?”
Riley nodded. “My protection spell would kill it.” He tilted his head as if studying the creature. “It seems to know that.”
“There is no way that thing is alive,” Caster’s mother said, her voice strong, but not strong enough to conceal the hint of worry hidden behind centuries of propriety and decorum.
“No, it’s not,” Riley’s mother said, moving closer to the wall and her son. Between her, Edie, and Riley, there was enough power to keep them safe. But the creature staring at them was unlike anything Caster had ever faced before.
“Have you ever seen this?” Damien asked.
The question was directed to no one in particular, but it was Edie who answered. “I’ve only read about it. I didn’t think it was possible.”
“There’s more of them coming.” James’s warning increased the tension, the evidence of what his senses could pick up with unmatched precision becoming apparent much faster than Caster expected.
The movement was again too fast, faster than a Born-Vampire, and soon, they were surrounded by more than two dozen of the dead Made-Vampires.
The first one, perhaps their leader, let out a screeching sound that ripped through his eardrums, causing everyone to cover their ears in a futile attempt to guard against the assault.
The pain filled his mind, and he glanced at Mark to find an expression that mirrored his discomfort.
Soon, a chorus of screeches joined the first, and he doubled over with the effect.
Then the pain dissipated into calm, and he opened his eyes, his main target, Mark, before his senses registered the effect of Riley’s power.
The dead thing that used to be a Made-Vampire still let out that otherworldly echoing screech, its black maw opening wider the longer it cried out, but the sound was now trapped behind Riley’s protection spell.
He sighed, thanking his friend with a nod. You OK? He needed to know, and Mark’s nod, although emphatic, did little to settle his nerves.
“I think it’s time to call the Prime Alpha,” Damien said. “And Marcus.”
Mark took out his phone at the same time Caster reached for his. They glanced at the screen in unison before turning to each other. The device was blank, the screen dark with inactivity, his attempts to awaken it proving futile.
“My phone’s dead.” A subtle hint of panic invaded Mark’s tone.
Everyone took out their phone, but in the second it took for all of them to confirm it, Caster had accepted their new situation.
He should have known. It was a tactic he’d used before in war.
For any siege to be effective, it was essential to limit the target’s ability to communicate with the outside world.
This witch was more formidable than they gave her credit for, and he was done underestimating her.
Time to give her the respect he would any other enemy.