Chapter 17 Sylas #6
Six long banquet tables stretched from the thrones across the length of the vast space whereupon two magic-wielders were sprawled out on their backs on each, their Inhibitor cuffed hands wrenched above their heads and tied to chains connecting to chandeliers that were covered with dust and cobwebs.
Every time their victims squirmed in pain, the crystals jangled like a bell, making the vampires chuckle in demented glee and some even clap.
“Necromancer!” one of the leaders hissed, a woman in a decrepit navy dress, her auburn hair a mass of tangled curls.
She pushed away from the woman she was feeding on and stepped forward in an unstable intoxicated state.
Hisses and snarls sounded as she alerted the others.
Within moments, thirty of them, including the five clan leaders, were leaving their playtime and gathering in unstable bursts of speed, then facing off with me.
“You dare to enter our home?” one of the male leaders thundered, calling his borrowed power, and causing the rest of them to do the same, all thirty raising their hands at me, prepared to fire upon me in a fusillade of magic.
“Psychopathic shits,” I rumbled.
More hisses.
“Take him down! Decimate him!” one of the male leaders bellowed.
I smirked.
Let’s go, demons.
I sent a wave of my magic toward the hostages, a red film sweeping over each of them and shattering their Inhibitor cuffs.
They gasped and choked with relief as their power rolled over them, some even sobbing.
Fuck, it was heartbreaking.
And I couldn’t entertain it. Not right now.
Not ever.
The army of vampires roared. Some fired at me, my shield deflecting their blasts.
Others burst toward me with vampire speed and the moment they hit, they ricocheted right off and were sent flying backward, taking out some of the gathered vampires in the process, downing them in a mess of limbs and a drug addled pathetic display.
With a twist of my hand, I snapped the necks of the vampire heaps—a dozen of them.
“You can’t hold that shield forever,” one of the leaders hissed at me.
A sadistic smile twisted my lips.
“Take your punishment, motherfuckers.”
Weaving my hands while they failed to get in a single hit, I channeled necrotic energy directly into the leaders, my crimson magic fusing with darkness, much like shadow, as it wove through one after the other.
Shrieks were forthcoming as they began to desiccate, starting with their hands, which cut off their ability to wield their stolen magic like the leeches they were.
I could feel myself weakening.
I had to speed this up.
I didn’t have time to exact the punishment I’d been intending.
It had to be solely about efficiency now.
I pulled harder until I’d encompassed every single remaining conscious vampire in the room, trapping them with my Desiccation Curse, watching as they screamed, writhed, and fell, clutching themselves, some paralyzed, some with whole limbs turning to ash.
They’d recover with their regenerative vampiric healing, but it would put them out of the fight without me needing to trap every single one of them in stasis, which took more power.
Once they were all suitably incapacitated, I walked to the hostages who were convened around the throne area now, and I cast a portal. “Head through, you’ll find help on the other side.”
They hesitated at first. Not surprising given how much trauma they’d endured.
But as a couple passed through, the others followed.
I left the portal open, then headed to my last target site—the dungeon below.
I teleported down to it and found myself at the threshold of a cavern with rough stone walls, iron bars across holes built into the place serving as cells.
Hisses sounded and a rush of remaining vampires started toward me.
I snapped their necks in unison and they all dropped like a macabre carpet on the ground.
That was it. All sixty vampires were down.
With a flick of my magic, I opened the bars to all the cages, and then the remaining few magic-wielders staggered out. Another flick and I had the cuffs shattered.
I swept them all up in a cloud of teleportation and as we rematerialized back into the Banquet Hall where my portal was still active—and pulling on my power like a bitch—I staggered and had to throw out my hand and grab one of the disgusting thrones to steady myself.
“Sylas? Are you all right?”
I looked to see one of the magic-wielders, a small woman with a bright-blue pixie cut eyeing me with concern.
It wasn’t uncommon for somebody to know my name without having met me before. I was a necromantic legend. But it was uncommon for somebody to express concern for me.
I was wanted for my power.
That was it.
The way it had always been.
Nothing else really computed.
Until Lazriel and Velra, of course. And Kai, too.
“All is well,” I said, forcing a smile and pushing forward. “Just head through the portal and you’ll all be taken care of.”
“Thank you,” she said, startling me as she grasped my arm.
I tensed, not knowing what to do with it.
“Of course,” was all I managed.
Fortunately, the stark emotion of it only had to be endured for a few moments, before she headed through the portal.
Others smiled back at me and gave me chin lifts before they all passed through as well.
Once the last one was through, I activated Soul Track to ensure I hadn’t missed anyone, or that there weren’t any hostages being hidden away.
Nothing.
I had them all.
I closed the portal, then called my power and performed Oblivisca, a small mind-wipe, but to sixty vampires.
By the time I was done, the strain was clear, and I had to grab at the corridor wall on my way out of the building.
It took me a while to get clear and I pulled out my phone instead of using magic to convey to Charlie that the job was done, and that he could call in the Guardian Movement.
I needed the last vestige of my energy to do one last thing.
Once I was out of the mansion, I walked about fifty feet away, then called my power again to wipe my scent and magical signature from the place.
A heavy sigh escaped me.
It was now fully done.
Mission complete.
I needed to get much further away before the Guardian Movement arrived, so I swept myself up in a cloud of teleportation, intending to head back to my house.
But it cut out before I made it all the way there.
Instead, I materialized against my will, finding myself in the heart of the forest about twenty miles from my home.
I choked as pain shot along my right arm, a burning fucking pain that I knew all too well at this point.
Desiccation.
A moment later, it seared across my abs too.
It started moving from searing pain to a freezer burn sensation as it drove deeper, damaged me deeper.
I had to try to teleport the rest of the way.
I wouldn’t make it walking.
I went to call my power again.
But then a blast of magic slammed into me.
It ripped through my shield because I was obviously so fucking weakened now, and it propelled me twenty feet across the forest into the trunk of a tree.
I cursed and clawed at the bark, staggering around.
Rainbow curls filled my vision.
Rennick Darrow.
The arrogant sorcerer from Wraeven Academy. Kelsana Torl’s possessive boyfriend.
“You’re not gonna be so charming when I’m done with you!” he roared, delivering another blast of his yellow magic that slammed into my gut and had me doubling over.
His fist smashed into my face in the next second, wrapped in magic, and scraping across my cheek, all his fucking rings ripping it open.
As he went in for another blow, I knocked him back with a blast of my red power.
It had me grunting as I felt the desiccation spread from the exertion, traveling up my shoulder beneath my hooded coat.
“You’d fare much better having an honest relationship discussion with your girlfriend than coming at the likes of me,” I rasped, pushing off the tree, and calling my magic to both palms.
It flickered unsteadily, though, and the strain of holding even that right now was weakening me further with every moment I forced it.
“I don’t give a shit about your threats!” he yelled back at me, sending another blast my way, which I deflected this time, sending it spiraling out into the air, high above the trees. “Her interest in you is ruining everything!”
“It’s not romantic or even sexual. I’ve explained that to her.”
“Yes! And now it’s worse, because now she’s talking about not wanting to be drawn to dark power.
The power that I wield, that she and I used to play with together!
She wants to change and now it’s had her befriending Velra Nox!
All because of what you sparked in her! You know how hard it is to keep her in my orbit now, to spell a Dark Fae being with enough magical influence without them noticing? ”
“You’re violating her free will?”
“You left me no choice! She’s mine!”
What a despicable bastard.
“Sounds to me she’s a possession to you, rather than a person.”
“Shut up!” he bellowed, his whole body in that gold suit shaking with it.
His blasts came rapid-fire then.
And I was beyond countering them anymore.
They slammed into me brutally, knocking me to my knees, making me curse.
All I could do was hold my hand up with barely a flicker of my magic still live in a futile bid to counter some of the damage.
And then I couldn’t even manage that.
With the assault and the desiccation combining, I could barely breathe steadily, the pain becoming unbearable, and the lightheadedness being the final straw that had me collapsing onto my back.
He moved in and smashed his boot into my ribs, making me choke and splutter up blood.
“Beg for mercy, Almighty Necromancer!” he spat at me.
Never.
He fisted his hand in my leather coat and jerked me up to him, holding his other hand in a fist. “I said beg,” he seethed.
I spat out a mouthful of blood over his suit.
He roared, then threw his fist.
But it never made contact.
A blur of movement caught my eye a split-second before he was ripped away from me, then hauled into a tree a few feet away opposite.
“Cocksucker!” a familiar voice thundered.
The blur came to a stop and then I was taking in that tactical gear, those green highlights in his spiky hair… and that delectable ass.
“Lazriel,” I croaked.