Chapter 74 #2
The hospital was chaos. Wounded soldiers were everywhere, and more kept arriving—the numbers climbing every minute.
Ambrose had learned that the attack began the moment Zion took Kyller, and eight hours had passed since then; the world had descended into anarchy.
The soldiers who'd managed to return from outside the walls were badly wounded, and judging by the exponentially rising death toll, Interion was losing half its men.
The war had begun and they weren't prepared—they didn't even know what they were dealing with.
The news called them chimeras, but the soldiers arriving called them demons.
The corridors were full of the dying—people mutilated, slashed, crushed, and, gods help him, people who had been eaten.
The bite marks were unmistakable, and parts of their bodies were missing.
This was the most disturbing thing Ambrose had ever dealt with, and he'd seen plenty of bizarre things over his years of practice.
But the war, the bites, the sheer number of patients begging for help...
It was helplessness at its most agonizing.
Ambrose ran his hands through his hair, screams and moans filling the air around him.
He was so shocked he didn't even notice he was smearing his bloodied hand across his face.
If the central hospital—the last line of defense—was already overwhelmed, he couldn't imagine how the human and fae hospitals closer to the gates were faring.
To make matters worse, it was just him, Lorenzo, Selene, and six human doctors.
Kyller's absence terrified him.
Δ
When the rain washed away the last of the monsters' ashes, a demonic scream of fury and indignation tore from the queen's lips.
It was utterly unnatural—Serguei doubted any earthly creature could produce such a sound.
He leaned on his sword, still embedded in the earth; he was drenched in sweat, nearly spent from destroying the entire army in minutes.
He drew a deep breath, gathering strength for what came next.
He wasn't foolish enough to believe the worst was over—in fact, it hadn't even begun.
The queen began moving along the wall, heading downward and driving the sharp points of her chains into the stone to keep herself stable. It was as if the laws of gravity didn't apply to her. She descended rapidly—a hell of hatred and darkness—and seemed furious at losing her creatures.
Serguei raised his sword, feeling the weight of the bone handle and iron blade.
The weapon had been his companion through all his years of battle, but now its weight felt foreign after so long without use.
He was old and rusty, no longer the same boy who'd led the night squadron.
But he knew that whatever he faced, the blade would have to be enough to protect his children.
The blood pact hung over him, never more real than in that moment. Despite being a voracious, the thing before him inhabited a fae body—he sensed he couldn't kill her without dying himself. His plan was to hold out alone until Zion could help him deliver the final blow.
She finished her descent and moved with fluid grace.
Despite what he'd just done to her minions, the woman paid him no attention—her gaze fixed on the horizon pouring golden energy over the world.
When the queen tried to pass, Serguei stepped into her path and her chains lashed out to shove him aside.
He blocked the strikes with his sword, digging his feet into the mud to hold his ground.
“Serguei,” she hissed in greeting, her voice not Ravena's. Her chains coiled in silent warning. “You've caused enough damage for one night. I didn't come here to deal with you.”
“Oh! How foolish of me,” he said with exaggerated drama, drawing her attention. “I assumed you'd come to see me, since you sent a message through Lagherta's girl.”
The woman looked toward the cottage on the horizon.
“Just get out of my way and I'll pretend you don't exist.” The voracious stepped to the side, her bare feet sinking into the mud. Serguei matched her movement, blocking her path again.
“How rude. Tell you what—I have a better deal! You turn around and crawl back to whatever hole you came from, and I'll let you live.”
When she laughed in his face, Serguei felt like laughing too at the absurdity of his own words, but for better or worse, it had the desired effect.
“Get. Out. Of. My. Way,” she bit out, each syllable dripping with disdain.
“Not even a 'please'? I'm truly hurt, love.”
The voracious's iris elongated and her entire eyeball turned black.
Serguei drew a deep breath, his heart pounding.
A chain shot toward him and he dodged, striking back with his sword.
The woman seized the moment to run, but the instant she reached the first tree at the forest's edge, Serguei attacked her mind.
Her body froze mid-stride and doubled over under the assault.
When the assault weakened, she whirled and launched a mental counterattack.
The psychic merely blinked—it was nothing compared to his own power.
The woman turned toward the cabin again, but Serguei struck at her mind once more, raking her shields like a lion sharpening its claws.
The voracious grunted, finally realizing she couldn't reach the cabin without a fight.
She turned back, and Serguei saw death dancing in the pools of darkness that were her eyes.
Chains rose like octopus arms as she launched herself at him, and sparks flew the instant steel met iron.
The chains whipped around him—while one crashed against his sword, another was already on its way, forcing him to keep moving, swinging his blade to dodge and guard his flanks.
It was an insane rhythm, and the rain only made it worse, but Serguei held on, deflecting every blow.
In contrast, the woman's cold eyes—once the most beautiful he'd ever seen—stared at him with an intensity that was almost painful.
But it wasn't the pitch-black eyes that made him falter.
It was when they returned to normal that Serguei felt his heart skip.
The woman seemed to understand this, because now she fought with Ravena's eyes, staring at him as if she knew they were a deadlier weapon than any sharpened metal.
Serguei resisted, murmuring to himself that this wasn't the woman he loved.
When he did, she gave him that sideways smile—exactly as the woman he'd loved used to do.
He shoved the thought away and nearly died to the cold chains while trying not to die from the sweet memories.
Despite all the confusion in his mind, Serguei was still a skilled swordsman, but his true strength lay in his psychic power.
If he wanted, he could tear down her barriers and enter her subconscious to kill her, just as he'd done with Ravena.
But if he did that, everything would be over for him.
That wasn't an option—he'd have to hold on until Zion arrived.
“Before you die, I'd like to thank you,” the voracious said, licking her lips.
Serguei suppressed a grunt when one of the blades grazed past his leg and sliced back across, leaving a shallow cut.
“You'll have to be more specific, love! I don't have a crystal ball.” He swung his sword, blocking her strikes.
“You helped me come into this world,” the woman clarified, studying him with those deceitful eyes.
“Confused? Let me explain.” She advanced, a chain nearly striking the psychic's feet.
“I controlled your wife's every step and paved her entire path to that cave, but I always wondered if you'd be capable of killing her when she finally reached the pool. And wow—you made the sacrifice so easily.”
Serguei narrowed his eyes, dodging and leaping with precision, tracking every movement to block it in time. But the voracious's words distracted him just long enough—he didn't see the third chain coming.
“Duck,” Julius's voice commanded in his mind. He threw himself to the ground as the chain whistled through the space where his neck had been a heartbeat before.
“Did you know her soul is still in the valley of the moon?” the woman asked. Serguei tried not to listen, but he couldn't help it. “She can't reincarnate because she can't forgive you.”
“Lies,” the sonar whispered in his mind. Serguei clenched his jaw, keeping his focus on the six chains hurtling toward him, but his thoughts kept drifting to Ravena. It only got worse when he looked at the voracious and saw his own wife.
“She still cries for you, Serguei,” the other continued, circling like a restless cat, searching for a way to end the fight quickly. Golden energy still pulsed outward in waves, but it would soon run dry, and she had to reach the receptacle before it did. “She can't get over your betrayal.”
“Shut up!” Serguei shouted, reaching his limit.
He attacked the woman's mind with blow after blow, beating, tearing, and pushing until the barrier began to crack.
As the voracious defended herself mentally, Serguei noticed she couldn't attack with the metal while using her psychic gift—and he remembered Zion saying he could never use two powers at the same time.
This could be his chance.
He concentrated on breaking her mental barrier, and just when he thought he'd breach her shield, the voracious stopped defending psychically and struck Serguei's side with two chains that sent him rolling away. He staggered up, spitting blood, and raised his sword again.
“Tell me where you left Nuadros's and Calistra's eyes, and I'll give you a clean death,” the woman demanded.
The psychic clutched his side where the chain had struck him. A gash had opened there, blood flowing and mixing with the rainwater.
“Never,” he snarled, clutching the deep wound.
“Such courage for someone who's about to die.”