~ Ava did not need to save any energy, not now. Unbeknownst to the others, she had been silently stocking up. She knew her opponent and the magic he wielded, and she needed to match him. Sven had her stone. He wouldn’t give it up without a fight. No one would give up that much power easily. Her stone would make it easier for her to lift the veil between Lansguard and Earth so she could slip in. A few seconds was all she needed and it would grant that. After that, she would figure out the rest as she went.
She took the souls of the dying in their last breath. As the soul left the physical plane, she claimed them. That eliminated her having to harm anyone in boosting her own strength. Ava, however, did not think Marx and the others would see it in the calculated way she did. If the person was dying, anyway, they did not need their souls, and she did. They would serve a greater purpose with her than the
Um... a Supermax prison? Can you imagine what all those murderers, rapists, and serial killers will be like as werewolves? Sven sure knows how to pick ‘em. Lol. Leave me your feedback in the comments; let me know what you think. See that star? Click it if you like it :)
~Sven turned up at the site at nightfall the following day. Not only was the change a temporary one, but the werewolves he now created, the dark hearts, could not take human form. This made traveling by day impossible. Changed, he moved with them, sticking to the woods and shadows of the cities, making their way to Hedgewood. From where he was at the prison, he had to travel halfway across the country, using magic to make the trip shorter. When he got to the site, Barabbas was waiting for him with clothes folded in his hands. His lieutenant was not sure what to make of Sven's company. Neither did he know what to say about his boss. He looked at the three for some time before he said— "I… wasn't aware we had more men." Sven changed into his human form. While taking his pants and putting them on, he answered,
~Back at the house, Zigor and Ichiro had a sit down with Marx and the others. They looked like their heads were going to explode. Helick had taken all their weapons to prevent any more—accidents from occurring if something else were to startle the men. “He shot me,” Shea bit between her teeth. Her eyes were still all wolf, her anger causing heat to ripple from her skin. All she wanted to do was change. Her wolf fought her for dominance, slamming itself wildly against her self-control. There was more than anger burning in the pits of her stomach, but she focused on the anger alone. The implications of her other emotions she would ignore. Ichiro approached Shea as he would a wild animal. He bent at the waist. “My apologies for earlier.” She was opening her mouth to say something caustic when she jumped hissin
~The mountain was alive with activity. The werewolves and their human allies were moving about, preparing all they needed to take with them. In this fight, they had a slight disadvantage, but things were looking up. Word had come back that the three vampire families—Vescovi, Ungaro, and De Rege—were also preparing their own men. They would meet in Hedgewood and do what they could to stop Sven from opening the portal. Martha walked over to Zigor, Garrick, and Ichiro as they loaded their guns with silver nitrate bullets. “It’s always the quiet ones,” Zigor commented as he ran a finger lightly over the blade Martha had made from pure silver. She blushed as she handed the two humans a small glass bottle each. “What’s this?”
~Vescovi, Anabella and Phillipe led the convoy to Hedgewood. Upon word of the attack on the werewolves, they had set out ahead of time. In armor-plated SUVs, they made their way through the streets. Hedgewood was a rural county northwest and six hours drive from Palvia. Over their earpiece, Vescovi spoke to the others. “The plan is to cut that madman off from the portal. We shall bring the entire mountain down on it.” “Agreed,” Phillipe said over the earpiece. “The explosives are ready.” “My people already have a cover in place,” Anabella said. Vescovi’s vehicle came to an abrupt halt. Sitting at the back of the SUV, he leaned forward to ask the driver what the problem was, but he saw for himself through the windshield. Standing in the middle of the road was a
~With a vicious twist and the cracking sound of bone, the last of the vampires went down, leaving only one. Anabella stood with the head in her hand, blood pooling around the body on the ground. She threw the head aside as if it was of no consequence. Cormac, the head of Salvay’s security team, was kneeling in front of De Rege and Vescovi; arm twisted at a severe angle. Amid their fighting, a station wagon had pulled up. Mother, father, and children were all shocked out of their minds at the scene before them. Vescovi compelled them to forget and sent them on their way. “Have the cleaners take care of this,” Anabella said to one of her men. “And find out when the others will be here.” The man nodded, walking off as he took a cellular phone from his pocket. In their society, Anabella handled the P.R. in a manner of speaking. And for the cleaning up of messes that would expose their existence. She was
~Salvay stood facing Sven. The two men sized each other up, both alphas in their own right. “A vampire,” Sven said. “A werewolf,” Salvay replied. Sven gave him a smile that did not reach his eyes. “To what do I owe this visit?” Salvay, without an invitation, took a seat. “I must apologize for the absence of my associate. He is busy handling—other matters.” Sven raised a brow, looking down at the man, but said nothing. Having a vampire in his camp was an interesting development for him. Vampires and werewolves, though not enemies, kept their socialization limited. To find one suddenly appearing and one from one of the five families, no less, piqued Sven’s interest.
~The four had led the charge to the bloodbath. From above, Ava floated over them—a dark blanket made of mist. She absorbed the twisted souls of Sven’s men, making more magic for Marx and the others. She gave the men and women on her side each the strength of a hundred men to fight the hundreds of gnashing teeth and razor-sharp claws that came at them in a haze of fur and fury. They had never seen these werewolves before. Made of the darkest souls she was yet to encounter in this world, their creation should have been impossible. Yet here they were—hundreds of them with one singular purpose to kill all those who opposed their alpha. As she absorbed the souls into herself, she felt the dark stain of them spreading, setting roots inside her very being. A soul defined its host and taking the souls of murderers and other unsavories was having its effects. She could feel her mind clouding, bloodlust stirr
~All he could hear was ringing. Sven rolled onto his side, coughing the dust out of his lungs; dust also temporarily blinding him. Once he had oriented himself somewhat, he looked around. A cloud of dust obscured his surroundings, the ringing in his ears blocking out every other sound. As the dust clouds cleared, he saw what was happening around him. Fighting. He looked towards the entrance of the cave and all he could make out were mounds of rocks and debris. The hill was flat, a few feet more, and it would have been on top of him. Sven got to his feet, anger seething. Two men came rushing towards him, and he took out his anger at them. Salvay. Had the man set him up? Sven intended to rip the vampire’s tongue from his mouth. No one played Sven for a foo
~ Marx stood looking at the carbonated lump that used to be four people he knew. Four people he loved. Ava, Lochlan, Zack, and Dempsey. Around him, the grass had grown again. The earth showed no signs of the battle that raged there. Mother earth had healed, but he had not. None of the others had. The world was safe, but a gap remained in their hearts that could never be filled. Around the base of the carbon memorial, laid fresh flowers. Every day for the past six months, Martha came with a new bouquet. Today was no different. He arrived as she did. “You came,” she had said to him when she saw him. In her hands, she had more than a dozen bulbs of tulips. Her summer dress fluttered in the breeze, strands of her now brown hair escaping her ponytail. The smile she gave him out shunned the sun, and Marx, for the life
~Marx was leading the last assault; one meant to be a distraction. Ava moved her palm away from the wound on her side. Bleeding still felt strange to her. Martha was the only one with whom she could go into details about her plans. “Penny has the last rune. All she has to do is plant it on him. When she does, we have only a few minutes to get our part done,” she said to Martha. “What is our part?” “I’m going to use you like an amplifier. I know how it sounds and yes, it is dangerous. For me more than you.” “Then we can’t do it,” Martha said. “If you’re going to get hurt—” “I have a contingency for that as well.” “Ava—” She
~Rea and Cale launched direct attacks on Kunz while Ava tried to unravel his protections. Each layer she pulled apart revealed another was more entrenched and more intricate than the one preceding it. She almost got another layer undone when she heard Cale shout— “Look out.” Ava had enough time to react, the death rune crackling through the air towards her. She split the force in half, saving herself by a hair. In the duel that ensued, Cale made the ultimate sacrifice. Rea tried to stop him as he ran straight for Kunz. Ava threw up a rune between Cale and the King; it was too late. Like dust, Cale disappeared. A self-satisfied smile lifted the side of Kunz’s lips. “Come now Avana. You cannot hope to defeat me. Even with all the knowledge at your disposal, I have spent years perfecting my craft.”
~They came through using three portals. Cale and Rea helped Ava to create one large enough to transport all of their forces. On the other side, they emerged on the field of battle in Hedgewood. The ground was scarred black. Trees toppled over and uprooted. It looked like a nuclear weapon went off, turning black everything in its path. The familiarity of the scene had an itch running down Marx’s spine. This place was either where they would claim victory or where he would walk over the corpses of the people he loved. He brushed his somber thoughts aside. Victory was their only option. To Ava, who stood on his right, Marx said, “Your handy work?” “I may have caused a patch here and there.” She bobbed her head from side to side. It was such a human gesture Marx found he had an urge to smile. He allowed his amu
~ Storming Hedgewood had to wait. Ava’s ‘problem’ required a second’s more thought. So close to the end, Marx was growing impatient. They needed to strike while they could and delays after delays were shifting the advantage square into the enemy’s hands. He folded his arms across his chest, keeping his face void of his emotions as he listened to Ava. “He has layers of protection wrapped around him like a shawl,” she was telling them as they stood inside the lobby of Anax Corp. Having the conversation on the outside felt too open. While they conversed, the last of the civilians and the injured were being ushered to the safety of the Mountain. Those left behind were there to fight. Marx found he was itching to fight. Ava continued. “We got through three of them before we had to retreat.” “Kunz spent years perfectin
~The sky was a battlefield. Above Pentorium, spreading out for miles, the shadows fought amongst themselves. Those made from the spirits of dead vampires clashing against those created from werewolves. Marx had control of the latter. It was surreal watching it all unfold. Anabella came to stand by Marx as he stood gazing up at the result of his power. Power he would never have dreamed of having. Explaining to the others what he could do would have paled compared to the scene unfolding over their heads. “This is what Sven wanted from her,” Anabella said about Sven and his sister, Marx’s mate, Celeste. “And when he couldn’t take it, he planned to break the seal on the portal.” “I can’t imagine having that man’s thoughts inside my head,” Marx said. “I rather
~Vescovi’s head throbbed as if a drummer band was marching across his forehead. Making his way through the tunnel with his men, a blast came out of nowhere, knocking them down and rendering them unconscious. He woke up in a crumpled heap with his men, all in various stages of recovery. It took him several tries to get to his feet and stay there, the drumming in his head growing louder with each movement. Walking straight was a task, but it was urgent that they get to Xavier and the others. They were delayed enough as it was getting the remaining civilians under Anax Corp ready for transport to the Mountain. Pentorium was under an evacuation order. He paused when he saw that the panel leading out of the tunnels was open. It was plausible that Xavier had left it like that since it was their way in and out, but Vescovi could not ignore the prickle at
~Martha moved to run to Nico as a shadow took possession of his body. Four steps in his direction, she stopped. Nico faced her direction, his eyes twin pools of swirling mist. The thing inside of him had his lips turn up in a smirk. With hot tears streaming unchecked down her cheeks, Martha clutched her fingers into tight fists. The words came from the pits of her stomach. The ground under her feet undulated, rippling with energy as she spoke them. Nico charged in her direction, his face twisted in rage. Martha held up her hand, palm open, continuing the chant, repeating it with fervor and a new understanding. Death fueled shadow magic. Hate. Anger. All the dark things that sullied the world. The spell was the most powerful she had ever attempted since Ava infused the revenant soul with hers. She had to release control to it. Allow the magic to ru
~Martha couldn’t breathe, her anxiety tightening her chest. Through her link with Nico, she could feel his growing distress. It urged her to move faster as she sprinted through the hidden tunnels leading down into the subway. Back at Anax Corp, Vescovi was assembling a team, a process that was taking longer than was comfortable with her. Nico and the others needed immediate help. Communications, already spotty, had gone dead. Not a single response, only the constant frying of static. Unable to stand around doing nothing while the man she loved probably laid gutted and dying, Martha snuck off when no one was looking. None of the others knew what she was planning to do. If they did, they would have tried to stop her. She was the passive one. The one who chose not to fight. For a werewolf, her reliance on that part of herself never went past her prim