40
EVERY FEARFUL brEATH
HENRY
M att has the decency to avoid making eye contact, while Ryan has the fucking good sense to position himself between us. Emmanuel lacks this awareness, frequently risking my wrath as we revisit the plan again. Another unnecessary, pointless rehearsal of what won’t come to pass and will become a fucking shitshow we either overpower or allow to overcome us.
“Can we get the fuck on with it?”
It’s Ryan who puts an end to Emmanuel’s step-by-step outline of how we’re going to storm the castle gates, disable enchantments and search every fucking room until we’ve killed every fucker in there and found Ivy. We know Marcus and Rowan’s covens are acting together and we’re sure they’ve got some rogue priests in there too. What we don’t know is how much time Ivy has left and every second matters.
For me, as much as her .
I can sense her agony and feel every fearful breath. Our bond has strengthened enough for me to know her emotions as if they were my own, and my wife is putting up a fucking furious fight. She’s refusing to give in to whichever cunt is torturing her, enduring hours of torture and torment. I don’t know what the fuck they’re doing to her, but I know it hurts and I know she’s scared—and those bastards will wish they’d never even heard her name by the time I’m fucking done with them.
“You realize this is a trap?” Matt asks, risking my ire.
Of course, it’s a fucking trap. It was far too easy to track Ivy down. Far too easy to find out Marcus and Rowan were both inside. It’s too convenient and little else about tonight will be. We’re walking into one of Marcus’s traps, and we’re in for one hell of a fucking night.
I’ve roused the coven. All of them. And Emmanuel’s called in every member of the Brotherhood he trusts. We’re all armed, all forewarned. We’re as ready as we’ll ever be, but you can’t prepare for the unknown. Not in any way that’s meaningful and we’re going to accept that. You can’t change the unchangeable and delaying this only weakens Ivy. Only heightens my desperation to reach her and I’ll be less clinical, less calculating. I’ll take more risks, even if I know we can’t afford to and we need to stop talking and get the fuck on with this.
Now .
“I know.”
“Good,” he replies. “We’re going to get her back, Henry.”
My teeth grind so fucking hard they rub against the bones in my jaw. He’s got fuck all right to talk to me, given he was with her when she was taken. Admittedly, it wasn’t exactly his fault but I’m hardly rational and I’m only calm out of necessity, aware fighting among ourselves will make a dangerous position worse.
And we’re in a weak enough one as it fucking is.
“Her father gave us some useful information,” Ryan says, taking his position at my shoulder. “She’s strong and she’ll survive, Henry.”
Maybe not if Marcus and Rowan have their way. Even if she does, they’ll do everything they can to kill the part of her that experiences joy. That knows happiness and love. They’ll try to take that from her and whatever happens, my wife has a long recovery ahead.
One we’re making longer by waiting and my patience runs out when Emmanuel suggests going over the plan one more time.
“We’re ready, Emmanuel. We go now or we don’t go at all.”
“She needs to survive, Henry. You and she, you both need to survive. Unless she’s pregnant. Then you’re expendable.”
Gods, the man is an irritation I’m looking forward to being rid of. He’s beyond annoying, and the reminder of the prophecy is the last thing I damn well need. Every fucking member of my coven knows Ivy’s life comes before their own. They’re commanded to give theirs without hesitation to save hers. Including Matt. And Ryan. And my-fucking-self and the presumption I wouldn’t sacrifice my life to save my mate—regardless of what some fucking stupid prophecy decrees—is an insult to my devotion.
I’m fucking done.
And I move.
So fucking fast even Ryan’s late in seeing it happen and races to catch up with me as I charge toward the fucking castle walls. Rowan’s a pretentious cunt and his home looks like a fairy tale’s wet dream. Its ivory towers and flagpoles gleam in the moonlight, hiding the darkness inside beneath their shimmering sparkle. There’s a nightmare inside the dream it portrays, and Ivy’s still enduring a night of terrors conjured from unspeakable horror.
I don’t slow, ignoring Ryan and Matt’s calls as they command the coven behind me. My speed and strength are both a weakness and an advantage, and I ignore the risks as my stride lengthens and my pace quickens. My heart would race if it were beating, but it isn’t and my eyes narrow, focusing on the wall I’m about to climb.
It's probably rigged with traps. It’s going to fucking hurt.
And I don’t give a single fuck because Ivy’s inside and my thoughts of self-preservation evaporate, losing all meaning, as I have only one reason left. Only one conscious belief and my focus is absolute, my will unbreakable and my resolve determined.
I reach the base of the wall and leap, surprised a barrier doesn’t prevent my ascension. It’s a mistake to leave the wall unprotected and my claws grip the hard granite stone, easily finding purchase. There’s no pain, no searing heat. No repulsion and no explosion. Nothing happens and it’s a fucking warning. One I heed as I scale the wall.
Even Rowan isn’t stupid enough to leave his castle this defenseless. This is a fucking trap, and Marcus wants me inside this goddamn fortress, baiting me with Ivy’s pain while drawing me in with the promise of an easy victory.
This won’t be easy. It won’t be quick. It’ll be fucking painful for all involved, and my eyes scan the ground beneath me as my feet hit the ramparts.
There’s nothing. Not a fucking thing .
No sentries. No guards. No movement and no inner defenses. Not one fucking unit stands ready to defend the castle and the only thing I see is a wide-open door, daring me to race through it and into what I presume is a fucking disaster .
Ryan moves to my side and his body tenses, aware this is still too fucking easy. He’s spotted the gaping door and his jaw bones grind against each other, sounding his fury as the cunts inside dare to test our intelligence. He waits, letting the others arrive and soon the castle wall is lined with my coven while priests flood through the opened castle gates.
“You know what happens next?” he asks.
“We walk through that door and all hell breaks loose?”
He nods and glances at Matt, worried. “Or it doesn’t, Henry. Marcus might be saving his forces for one big stand.”
Marcus is a cunt of epic proportions and he’ll throw cannon fodder at us to weaken our numbers, choosing to strike when he thinks the conditions are right. He’ll pick his moment, making damn sure he’s lined everything up to maximize his chance of winning.
“He’s a cunt,” I hiss, stepping forward and waiting for my coven to line up with me. “But so am I.”
We jump in unison, leaping from the walls as our creators intended. I’ve drilled this into my coven, beaten them into a highly trained, efficient fighting machine and they’re fucking smart too. More intelligent than the brute force most covens rely on. It’s why we’re so effective and our descent to the courtyard is choreographed to perfection, designed to strike fear into anyone stupid enough to watch it.
My coven finds their feet and they race for the castle, moving without hesitation. They’re fast and I hang back, letting lesser vampires reach the doorway before me. We all have our part to play, and if mine is to lead, then theirs may be to die for me. For Ivy. In the open doorway or just beyond it, depending on where Rowan has laid his trap.
A minor explosion sounds inside the castle and I burst through the door, smelling smoke and ash, sulfur and fury. Vampires descend the walls and clamber over the staircase while more race toward them, plunging into the fray as chaos and carnage erupt around me.
Dust clouds plume into the air as snarls and cries sound out, echoing around the barren walls of Rowan’s home. There’s little worth saving here anyway, and I move quickly, decisively, and ruthlessly. My arms grab vampires from his coven, driving my claws into their hearts or decapitating them with an efficiency bred from centuries of ruthless, bloody conflict.
I was a vicious general before I was turned. Now, I’m the embodiment of hell. Ryan was as cunning, just as violent, and my former adversary shows no mercy, slashing down vampires as if they were reeds of grass in a meadow.
We cull the members of Rowan’s coven sent to deplete my forces and the priests weave magic, summoning their power from the darkness they worship. Their force ripples through the world, pushing back some enchantments rigged to catch us unaware and slow our progress.
But this isn’t enough to take us out, and Ryan’s probably right. Marcus is looking for a big showdown, and he’s trying to weaken us before it arrives. This is designed to inflict maximal damage to me at minimal cost to himself, and Rowan’s an idiot for allowing this. He’ll be in no position to stop Marcus from taking over if he survives this, and there’s no fucking way Marcus will stand by any agreement they’ve made.
Ryan wipes blood from his face as the battle dims and his eyes blaze scarlet, furious with whatever knowledge he’s stolen from the vampire he drained.
“She’s in the dungeons, Henry. In a fucking cage. Marcus killed Rowan and he seems to have the priests dancing to his tune. He’s pulling all the fucking strings and he knows you’re coming.”
My hands curl into fists, and blood seeps from my palms as my claws pierce my skin .
“He wants to rule the covens, Henry,” Ryan says, his voice a mixture of horror and determination to prevent such an atrocity. “Once you’re gone, there’s no one left to challenge him.”
That’s Marcus for you.
A power-hungry cunt obsessed with conquering everything that stands in his way. He won’t rest until he has control over our dominion and then he’ll move on to subjugating humans. It’s been tried before and it always ended badly. The fall of the Roman Empire. The Mayans. The Khmer.
“I’ll clear the castle.”
Matt’s gone before I can stop him, taking priests and vampires with him as he charges up the stairs. Ryan watches his partner race away, praying he’ll make it through the night and they’ll spend the rest of their days together. It’s the agony of battle and his feelings aren’t different from mine.
“Let’s go get your girl,” he says, moving toward the corridor leading away from the entrance. “I’m sure you’ll want a few words with Marcus.”
Ryan’s understatement is perfection and I can’t help but smirk as I follow his lead, heading away from our first victory and praying we won’t meet defeat. The tension is thick and the atmosphere heavy, and it’s far too fucking quiet, even if the castle was abandoned. Sound is afraid to make its presence known and my senses heighten, trying to detect any clue as to what the fuck happens next.
Occasional vampires leap out, and one of us dispatches them with minimal effort. The coven unit with us has sustained minimal damage and the priests begin chanting as they weave between us, casting their magic around us and dispersing more enchantments ahead.
My gut knows this is wrong and when we reach the large hall that marks the entrance to the dungeons, a thousand silent alarm bells ring with fury.
“This isn’t right,” Ryan snarls.
Light explodes and debris ricochets around us, bringing devastation and the noises of violence. The air thickens as the smell of copper and iron wafts through the thick white smoke left by the explosion, and I move decisively, grabbing a vampire that launches at me and ripping its head from its body. Battle descends and the vicious sounds echo around the cold stone walls as limbs are severed, flesh torn apart and blood spilled onto the lifeless flagstones.
It’s vicious, fraught and bloody.
Arms grab at limbs, cries sound out, and my claws tear through muscles, spilling blood as I slice across someone’s neck. More vampires pile into the fray, attacking with a fury some of my coven can’t withstand and we’re beginning to lose numbers.
It’s enough to stop us moving forward, and we’re being pinned down, sustaining damage now we’re being forced to fight. Green light bursts like lightning in a storm and pale orange clouds fire back, as the priests turn their magic against their own. Sulfur and death taint the air as the fog of battle thickens, and I fight furiously, viciously, and mercilessly.
Ryan grabs my arm and hauls me out of the way, sending me hurtling toward the weaker vampires. I strike a chest, instantly destroying one, then pivot and decapitate another, then duck and slice up the torso before I pierce my claws into the neck of a third vampire. Blood sprays as I turn his body around and catch sight of Ryan battling against a vampire that looks suspiciously like Rowan’s new second.
My second’s giving not one inch of ground and he’s in full flight. Ryan’s glorious like this and I remember why I used to fear him on the battlefield. He’s brutal and his technique is even more vicious now he’s spent years honing it. Now he has someone to fight for and he’s pummeling the shit out of the vampire who dared to challenge him.
“Go, get her,” Ryan yells, his voice laced with determination. “I’ll hold these fuckers back.”
I hesitate, uncertain if facing Marcus with fewer numbers would be a mistake. Ivy’s still enduring hell and a pang of pain tightens in my chest, collapsing it on itself as the heat burns through my soul.
Marcus knows.
He’s torturing her to make me feel it. Because he wants me in the dungeon where he can pick me off and he’s trying to lure me down. My head knows it’s the stupid thing to do, but my heart can’t keep going without taking the risk and I stare at Ryan, praying he understands the choice I’m making.
“Get her, you fucking idiot.” He spins and sends the other vampire hurtling over his arm. “Take the others and go. What the fuck are you waiting for?”
His hand plunges into his opponent’s chest and he turns, roaring as he charges into the smoke. He’s on fire and his fury knows no limits, and I recognize the rage of battle that drove terror into the hearts of my men from a lifetime long ago. From a time when I served an emperor and he ruled a bloodthirsty tribe set on burning civilization to the ground. We’ve changed, but we’re still the same, and it’ll take all our skill and cunning to defeat this night.
I turn and descend into the dungeons, facing another kind of dread, one I’ve never known, and its agony threatens to bring me to my knees. Remnants of my coven fall in behind me and horror drawls its veil around me, and I pray I’m the lethal, vicious predator my reputation would have me believe I am.