TWENTY

If Kyle was capable of feeling anything like joy, this was the closest he’d come. Just a few short weeks ago, he had been, punished, acid poured on his face, cast out from his brethren—a freak, a pariah, never to set foot here again. Now here he was, back underneath City Hall, the new leader of the Blacktide Coven. He had managed to overthrow Rexius, to avenge himself on all of his old enemies, and to hold firm possession of the Sword. He even led an army of thousands, and all the local covens had shown deference to him. The world belonged to him.

And the war was just beginning. That battle had been glorious. Once he had killed Samuel and captured Caleb, it had turned into a rout, his men slaughtering them all. They had put up a good fight, but in the end, his men just outnumbered them. They had now gained tremendous ground, and even more neighboring covens had flocked to join him. His army already spread uptown, block to block, like a swarm of locusts, wiping out all the humans, and