Chapter 28 | Sephania #2
“Fuck!” I roll as the vampire dips down to claw at me. Blood drips from his lips onto my face as I avoid him and skitter to my feet.
He charges again, trying to claw into my gut. I swing my blade down in a defensive parry, biting into his wrist. With a squeal, the bloodsucker steps back—
Not before I saw into his wrist with my other sword and dismember him.
He screeches and stumbles back—
Directly into a shadow made flesh.
A hulking figure emerges from the vampire’s shadow like an ogre-sized apparition, towering over the vampire.
My pained heart swells.
Vallan Stellos roars, wraps his giant biceps around the vampire in a bear hug from behind, and lifts the vampire off his feet. He bites into the bloodsucker’s neck with a savage bellow, lost to his bloodrage.
My throat hitches as I take a step forward.
A smaller, quicker form materializes from the shadow of the dying, twitching interfolk girl at my feet.
Garroway catapults out of the shadow like a wraith on fire. His sword flashes at a nearby tent, bringing the tarp down and revealing another vampire feasting on another miner in the hidden confines of the tent.
With the bloodsucker caught with his pants down, he has no chance to defend himself against Garroway’s blade. No sooner does the vampire glance over his shoulder, awestruck at Garroway’s speed, than his head is dislodged and flying through the air.
Vallan and I lock eyes for a split second—
Then he twists, sensing something, and hurls the massive war-axe on his back in one fluid motion, tossing the axe through the air with both arms. It displaces air in a great whoosh—
And plants into the side of a running vampire I hadn’t spotted. The vampire wheezes, thrown off its path. It tries to get up, even though the blade of Vallan’s axe is deep in its shoulder. It takes a step away—
Before shadows coalesce around it, curling around legs and limbs, and pins it fast to the ground. The tendrils of blackness make the vampire writhe in fear and rage, confused about what’s happening.
Skartovius appears from the same area, auburn hair whipping in the wind.
His silver saber shimmers in the moonlight before piercing the vampire’s back and setting him on fire in an orange inferno.
Skar kicks Vallan’s axe toward his larger brother before it can catch on fire like the squealing vampire.
I breathe heavily, blink, shocked at this turn of events. For one, there were far more vampires invading and infesting the North Mines than I’d realized. I can only thank the True for my vampires.
A croaking gurgle reaches me from the ground.
Inhaling sharply, I crouch at the twitching form of the interfolk miner who accidentally charged me from the tent, thinking I was a vampire. Her neck is a sheet of dark red. She’s seconds away from death.
My mind rushes. I bare my teeth. I bring my wrist to the tip of my shortsword and draw a gash across my palm.
“Sephania!” Skartovius bellows across the camp-turned-battlefield. His voice is tinged with caution and anger, as if telling me not to do what I’m thinking.
I do it anyway, dropping my hand to the miner’s red lips. “Drink!” I demand, spilling my Loreblood across her face.
The shadows of Vallan, Garroway, and Skartovius encircle me. They say nothing as the twitching, blinking interfolk girl works furiously to sip my blood.
The effect is gruesome at first, with the light going out of the miner’s eyes—
Before a confused knot forms between her brow. She stops convulsing, lifting her head off the ground, and grabs greedily at my wrist with her mouth.
She’s no longer sipping. She’s drinking. Deeply. A thrum of excitement passes through me and I let out a whimper.
My mates let it carry on for five seconds before Skar grabs me under the arms. “That’s enough! She’ll live now.”
I fight him the entire way, kicking with my legs and arms. “W-We have to find others!”
“Others are either dead or gone. You saved one life, little temptress. That will have to be enough for tonight.” He holds me tight, firmly but tenderly. I could get out of his grip if I wanted, but all I can do is slump in his arms and rest my head back against his sturdy chest.
I stare up at him upside down.
“I’m not going to ask what you were thinking,” he says to me, “because I know what you’ll say.”
I give him a weak smile. Dizziness swims in my head from everything—the rush of getting down here, the choking smoke, the desperate battle, and now the blood dripping down my wrist.
“You’ll say you weren’t thinking at all,” Vall grumbles.
Garro adds, “I’m only glad we got here in time. You foolish, brave girl.”
I stand on my own legs, rising from Skar’s hold. “How did you get here?”
Skar points between his comrades. “Vallan felt a flare of his bloodsight. Garroway pinpointed a rodent on the mountain that followed you down here. I walked us through shadows seen from the rodent’s eyes, same as I did with the moth in Sutlis Spire.”
His explanation is clipped and has me blinking in surprise. “Thank you,” is all I can muster, even though his words show me just how powerful their combined powers are, thanks to my Loreblood. They got to me in mere moments, miles across Olhav. Fuck me True.
Two other interfolk crouch by their friend, noticing the blood has stopped flowing from their neck. They look just as confused as the one who drank my blood to heal.
By the Damned, it works on humans too.
I already suspected my blood could heal my people. If vampire blood can heal me—which it has in the past—and my Loreblood has vampire essence in it, then it only made sense my blood could heal humans as well as bloodies.
Still, that doesn’t make it any less surprising or astounding. I’ve learned a few helpful things in a matter of minutes, all of them startling.
Cordea sidles up next to us, sheathing her sword at her hip.
“Good work,” Vallan grunts to his lieutenant, in what I imagine is a rare compliment. “You held them off long enough.”
“Would have died if you lot hadn’t shown up,” Cordea answers in her silky voice. The beautiful vampiress nudges her chin at me. “She helped. Stupid of her, but helpful.”
I crack a coy smile. “I’ll put that on my tombstone, Cordea. ‘Stupid but helpful.’”
Garroway smiles. No one else does.
Vallan says, “Report. What’s happened here?”
Cordea clenches her sharp jaw. She cracks her neck left and right. “Exactly what you see. They’re Intelligence Ward fullbloods. Sent here at sundown to wreak havoc.”
“That’s all?” Skar asks. “Havoc was the mission?”
“No. I think not.” Cordea motions vaguely behind her. “Came looking for someone, it seems. These were just the bloodies left behind. Another vanguard unit already left before you arrived.”
The shadows jumping the mountains, holding bulging bags on their backs, I think. Worry sears through me. “Who were they after, Cordea?”
I already know. My heart sinks, because I already know and I haven’t seen her yet.
Cordea’s red gaze meets mine. “They came looking for your interfolk friend, princess. I assume they didn’t know what she looked like, exactly, so the fucking bastards took every yellow-haired miner they could wrangle.
Knocked them out and took off before the first cries of alarm woke the rest of the camp. Including me.”
Fury spears into me, akin to what I imagine Vallan’s bloodrage is like. It’s joined by a dread feeling, a sinking sensation of anxiety.
Skar answers matter-of-factly. “Alacine Mortis has made her next play. Quicker than I thought she’d move given what happened at Trithea Plaza.”
Yes. Her next “play.” She took the one connection I have to the North Mines. She kidnapped Palacia.
But why?