Chapter 57
CHAPTER 57
Kill , his mind demanded. Kill, kill, kill . He trod down the stairs, his feet heavy and fighting him, and spun the dagger in his hand. The silver glinted in the dim light of the halls, and the runes provided extra illumination. They were the shade of blood, the shade he was hoping to coat it in.
He tracked heartbeats and the noises of weapons meeting flesh until he found a group fighting in one of the parlors. A few combatants had spilled out into the hall. Some had familiar black uniforms; the others were dressed in black as well. They were living—or unliving in the case of the vampires—creatures. Targets ripe for destruction.
Blurring between the ones in the hall, slashing throats, and burning out hearts with his blade was laughably easy. In a few seconds, there were three dead bodies. The blood on his blade seeped into the runes, and a rush of warmth spread up his arm and into his chest. He strode into the room.
There were a dozen or so struggling in here. He danced through them, carving through veins as he went. Several fell down with a cry, though none of his blows had been killing ones this time. The vampires were healing. The humans were holding their wounds. They smelled delicious, and he bared his fangs in a wide smile.
A young black girl swung a baseball bat covered in silver nails at his head. He leaned out of the way. She redirected, swung again, and he dodged the other way. She wasn’t fast like him, but she didn’t hesitate between her strikes either. Another vampire came at him, and he reached out and broke the attacker’s neck. She continued, nearly hit him that time.
How many could he kill while evading her? He blurred, stabbing one of the uniform-clad vampires, and destroyed the creature’s heart. She chased him down.
The others were beginning to run. When he went to chase after one mortal, the black girl zoomed in front of him, actually catching him off guard with her movement. Laughing, he let her take more swings at him. She was spending energy; he was barely using any.
Or, at least, he thought he was hardly tapping into his strength. The longer he looked upon her face, the slower he seemed to get.
Enough games! Kill her and come to me! the voice in his head declared.
He ducked a wilder swing from her and grabbed the bat closer to her hands. Growling, he ripped it from her. She struck him in the solar plexus with her fist. Ribs crunched, and he coughed. He tossed the bat off to the side and dodged her fist again. This one grazed his nose. He was … slowing down … because … because something was wrong. With him.
Kill .
He shook his head once and grabbed the girl’s wrist during her next attempt. After snapping her arm, he followed up with a punch. He struck her again, driving her up against the wall.
The smell of smoke wafted in through the open door. She started to step away from the wall, so he pushed her roughly by the shoulder. He brought his dagger back, ready to drive it into her heart.
She closed her eyes and tilted her head back as if believing she could flatten herself into the wall and survive. Bloody tears ran from the corners of her eyes. She was so young. So incredibly young. Like Amber, his sister.
Amber. He had a sister named Amber, and he wanted to see her again.
Kill!
He started to bring the blade in, but the girl whimpered, and the sound tugged on his memory. He … he had seen her like this before … he knew her. How?
Detroit , his rational mind provided. Janiyah Williams, age fourteen. Missing three weeks, last seen outside a library . A missing person’s page filtered through his inner mind. He had researched her. Seen her on a dark street on a rainy night with smoke on the air. She had been running. From … from hunters.
I didn’t want to kill her then. I don’t want to do it now! Zack screamed, the frustration of his lust for death combating his inner self. He couldn’t pull his blade back from where it was. He still wanted to drive it forward too badly.
“Zack!” Thomas shouted.
“D-dad?” Zack managed to turn his head.
Thomas had an arrow notched in his favorite bow. Zack’s mom had always claimed it was too slow of a hunter’s tool, that there was no point teaching archery to the kids. And so Zack hadn’t learned his father’s skill. “Let her go, Zack.”
“I … I can’t.” Zack tried to move his arm, but it was like pushing on a door that only opened with a pull. His body believed that was the wrong direction.
“Please,” Janiyah whispered. “You let me go before.”
“Before?” Thomas asked.
“Detroit.” Zack clenched his jaw as his hand slid another centimeter forward. Much more and he would pierce her skin. “Dad, you have to stop me.”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Thomas replied.
“If you don’t, I’m going to kill her and then you,” Zack cried. “Please, Dad!”
Resolution hardened Thomas’s expression, and he raised the tip of his arrow. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Dad.” Tears streaked down Zack’s cheeks. “But hurry, I’m losing control.”
Thomas loosed the arrow, and it sailed through the air. Zack closed his eyes, expecting pain in his chest. Instead, he had a splitting headache and then darkness as Janiyah snapped his neck.