Chapter 35
PHAEDRA
Frantic, I look around for help, but there is none. And the victorious smile he’s flashing tells me he knows it. I offer up a little prayer to the gods for any help they want to send my way.
I hurtle myself to the right and abruptly stop. He’s already there. Damn vampires. Too fucking fast. I grip the hilt tighter.
Frederick slashes his sword a few times as he stands in front of me, the air whistling as the blade slices through it.
“Hmm, no curses? And where are your gods now?” He makes an elaborate show of looking around.
“Such a shame. Leaving you to fend for yourself. They should have made you stronger, more magical, instead of giving you boring, old, cursed magic. Guess that means you’re bottom of the food chain. ”
He shrugs. “Let’s get this over with. Places to be and all that.” He cups his hand and motions to me.
Fury burns in my gut, and I leap forward, swinging the sword as I pull the trigger, shooting him in the kneecap.
He drops for a split second, and I pivot and take off.
Darting in and out of fighters, I help where I can, shooting vampires so their opponents can take their heads as I frantically look for options.
Frederick bellows, and I look back. A wolf shifter prowls between us, stopping him. Nose tilted to the sky, the shifter howls, calling his fellow wolves. Two join him, circling Frederick. I pick up speed, trying to put distance between us while I can.
Mathias and the horde are right in front of me. I move closer. They have to be ten deep, surrounding him on all sides. I stumble over a human and notice the pistol in his side holster. Grabbing it, I tuck it into my waistband.
Inhale. Exhale. If you don’t help him, nobody else will. It isn’t like you can die. Sure, it might hurt, but every time hurts. Well, except…Focus. I take one more deep breath and unload a clip on the outer ring closest to me.
Striding forward, I swing with all my might and manage to almost decapitate the vampire in front of me. Before they can regenerate, I hack the rest of the way through. His head topples, and I immediately turn to the next to do the same thing.
A swoosh of air blows back my hair, and I look up to see Gatlin and another gryphon helping to clear the horde too, diving deep and scooping them up, then shredding them with their razor-sharp talons.
I’m deep into killing them one by one, when a gryphon screeches, but it’s too late. A hard body slams into me, and I go flying into the dirt. Spitting out a mouthful of sand, I hear Frederick laugh above me.
“Think a few little wolves could stop me? I’m ancient.”
It’s my turn to laugh. “You’re really going to play the old man card. Look around you.”
Where is my sword? On my hands and knees, I scramble for it, but Frederick chuckles and kicks it out of my reach. He’s toying with me.
“You have neither the strength nor the skill to wield even the most basic sword,” he says, mocking me. “Now, tell me, where did you hide my panels?”
“Did you know one of them is fake?” I ask, cautiously stepping a couple paces to the right where I see a sword underneath a lifeless shifter.
He chokes out a laugh.
“It’s the truth. The top panel is fake. So you’ve only had one real panel the whole time.” I smirk. “The one I gave to you in exchange for Mathias’ life.”
Red seeps into his eyes, and he stalks forward.
One of the gryphons dive bombs him, and I race to the shifter and yank the sword out. The air sings behind me, and I instinctively leap over the body, barely making it to safety as Frederick’s blade buries itself into the ground where I was standing.
He snarls and rips it out of the dirt.
Backing away, I scan the area for anything or anyone that can help, but there’s nothing.
Frederick’s sword swings, and I raise mine to meet it.
The two come together in a jarring clash that makes my arm ache.
Again and again, he charges, and I do everything I can to block each hit, but exhaustion is wearing me down.
Meanwhile, he looks as fresh as a damn daisy.
I stumble. Frederick raises his sword, and I lift mine to meet it, but instead of the usual ringing sound, there’s a clap of power. Startled, I glance at my hand and find a magnificent short blade with runes glowing on it.
Gold with multiple curved edges, it looks like it would tear a gut in two or rip a jagged edge in someone’s throat. I lift it into the light. Strike that. There are two identical weapons connected by a thick gold chain and engraved with the name…Ares.
In awe, I stare at the Blades of War, then rotate them a few times. Perfectly balanced. This time, it’s me who motions him forward.
Frederick whistles, and one of his minions rushes toward me. Reacting, I step to the side and swing, and the sharp tip scrapes across his chest. Poof! I blink as a shower of ash rains down. What the fuck?!
He lets out a series of low whistles, and the remaining horde around Mathias parts like the Red Sea. Dark hair wet with sweat, his shirt plastered to his chest, he swivels to face us, short swords ready. When he sees Frederick, his face fills with fury.
In an unexpected move, Frederick throws his sword like a spear, straight toward Mathias, and while I’m watching its deadly path, he reaches out and swipes my blades. Horrified, I watch Mathias dodge Frederick’s sword and streak toward us.
“Don’t let the blades touch you!” I scream at him.
He and Frederick carefully circle each other. Two predators well-matched from a time when swords were the only weapon one carried. They both swing, and their blades hit with a resounding clash. The force is so great the sound rings out across the field.
They blur, then circle and reassess, then attack again. Frederick whistles, and several vampires join the fray. Unfortunately, mere seconds later, ash rains down.
Chest heaving, Frederick disengages and leaps back. He lifts the blade and stares at it, then turns and charges Mathias.
A pair of vampires sidle closer to me, only to be plucked off the ground by a pair of razor-sharp talons. I look up and watch as Gatlin shreds them to pieces. Several others glance from me to him and take a few steps back.
Metal on metal brings my gaze back to Mathias and his opponent.
While I was distracted, Mathias gained control of one of the blades.
Biceps bulge as the two of them try to force their blade into the other.
Sucking in a breath, I watch as the tip moves dangerously close to Mathias’ throat.
He grunts. Boots slide in the dirt as Frederick tries to press his advantage.
In a daring move, Mathias suddenly drops the blade he’s holding, then uses both his hands to grab the one Frederick’s pressing into his throat. He shoves it down and backward, into Frederick’s own stomach. Ash rains down a second later.
Mathias attacks the remaining horde, eliminating several with one swipe, and the rest scatter in fear. He lowers the blades and holds them out to me. “I think these might be best in your hands.”
“Me too,” I tell him, letting them drop to the ground so I can throw myself into his arms. “Although, ultimately, I should return them to Ares.” When he quirks a brow, I explain how they appeared in my hands.
The battle rages around us, but I drop my lips on his, needing to know he’s alive and here with me. He gives me a hard kiss in return. After a second, I raise my head. “When I saw you surrounded, I was so scared.”
He presses his hands to my back. “I might have been a little worried myself. It’s been a while since I had to fight off a horde.”
Not wanting to know how often he’s had to do that; I slide down and pick up the blades. The sky lights up beside us, and I look over. “I left Jamison and Charlie fighting Bennett. I’m going to take a look.”
He nods and unsheathes his swords. “Be careful.” Whirling around, he takes off, swords swinging at the vampires who step into his path.
I grab the lethal blades and use my belt to tie a makeshift holster for them.
“Gatlin, still there?”
He lands beside me a second later, and I scramble onto his back.
“I want to check on Jamison,” I tell him, and he shoots up into the sky and banks to the right.
As we get closer, I see Jamison fighting Bennett by himself. I look around for Charlie and see him battling vampires nearby. He’s surrounded. I motion for Gatlin to set me down while he goes to help Charlie.
Blades ready, I move closer to the two of them.
My eyes narrow as my heart pounds. Magic fighting magic, using every conceivable tactic.
All the elements. Bennett releases a hailstorm of fire only for Jamison to nullify it and return his own volley of magic.
I watch them for several minutes. They’re almost evenly matched.
Both with off-the-chart power. It’s in that chilling moment that I realize why Jamison’s father cursed his ring.
He never wanted Bennett to realize how much power Jamison had at his disposal because he would have targeted him. Tried to steal it for himself.
Hatred rules Bennett’s actions. It’s apparent in the magic he unleashes toward Jamison; every attempt brutal, designed to kill his opponent.
Jamison’s calm and collected, an expression of determination on his face, and it dawns on me. He’s playing offense, maneuvering his opponent with careful strikes against him. But to where?
Bennett sways the tiniest bit. Satisfaction sparks in Jamison’s eyes. He’s wearing him down. While they’re both evenly matched, Mathias’ vampire blood has given Jamison something that Bennett doesn’t have…endurance. The ability to use his powers for longer periods without fatigue.
I glance over at Charlie and see him flashing me a thumbs-up as he creates a barrier around Bennett and Jamison.
Gatlin circles above me.
I turn my attention back to the battle and find Bennett staring at me. In a startling move, he throws up a barrier between him and Jamison and stalks toward me. I hold up my hand, and Gatlin’s talons latch on, jerking me into the air.
Jamison roars, “Bennett!”
Bennett turns, a snarl on his face, only to find hell has been unleashed. Jamison’s attack is relentless and ruthless. Not once does he let up. Bennett tries to defend, but his attempts are weak and unfocused.
A black hole opens up behind him. Frantic, he glances at it, then back at Jamison.
He flings magic faster and faster in an attempt to hit Jamison, but nothing works.
Jamison’s shield is impenetrable, and his face is the epitome of granite as he purposely drives him backward.
I don’t know what’s inside the hole, but whatever it is, Bennett is terrified of it.
The back of his heel disappears inside. Desperate, Bennett glances around wildly as if seeking help, but there’s no one.
Bitterness twists his lips. In one final act, he salutes Jamison, then sends a burst of magic through his temple.
Collapsing on the ground, he stares blankly at the sky above.
Shocked, I raise a hand to my mouth. Whatever is inside that hole, it terrified him enough that he took his own life.
Charlie drops the barrier.
Jamison slides to the ground, and I tap Gatlin, asking him to set me down. When he does, I run over and fall to my knees in front of him.
I brush his damp hair back to stare into those steel-blue eyes of his. “What do you need? Water? Healer?”
His hands reach out and pull me to him. “You.” He places a sweet, lingering kiss on my lips. “And maybe some water.”
His canteen is on the side where he was blasted that first time. I run and grab it. Returning, I lift it to his lips, and he takes a few gulps.
My gaze lingers on Bennett for a second. “What was in the hole behind him?”
Jamison sighs heavily. “The only thing he was afraid of… a null vault. It would have stripped him of his magic. Permanently.” He cups the back of my head.
“My original intent was to wear him down and bind his magic, but when he went after you, I knew binding wouldn’t be enough.
There was always a chance he could get it back and come after you. ”
Fear of losing his magic ruled Bennett his whole life.
What a waste. “Thank you.” I’m relieved I don’t have to look over my shoulder, waiting for him to strike.
“Frederick’s dead too. From what I saw in the air a minute ago, there’s mostly stragglers left.
I’m going to find Hawthorne and see how he’s doing.
Will you be okay? Or do you want Gatlin to give you a ride to the main tent? ”
“Main tent,” Jamison says, pushing himself to his feet. He glances over at Charlie, who’s sitting on the dirt, downing a jug of water.
Not wanting him to be alone, I ask Maverick if he can join him, and he replies that he’s on his way.
We wait with Charlie until Maverick crests the hill.
Covered in dirt and grime, the demon’s eyes are fierce as they sweep over Charlie.
He drags him into his arms, and we leave the two of them there.
Once in the air, Jamison surveys the battle below.
“With Frederick and Bennett gone, we should be able to quickly rein in the rest.” He borrows my comms and redirects a majority of our army to the largest concentrations of enemy forces.
But he orders the magic users to find and incinerate the dead vampires.
As we touch down at the main tent, Hawthorne comes striding out to greet us both.
He immediately begins fussing over the small wound on my arm, but I assure him it’s probably already healed from the significant amount of magic in the air.
Unwilling to take my word for it, he unrolls the strip of cloth.
Closed and slightly pink, it looks days old.
He heaves a sigh and pulls me into his arms.
“Careful,” I say, showing him the blades and explaining how they came into my possession. “I don’t know whether they can kill all immortals or just vampires. I’ll have to research them.”
He stares at them, barely blinking. “The Blades of War can kill more than just vampires and supernaturals. They can kill gods too.”