FIVE

Samantha watched in horror as the cauldron tilted toward Sam’s face. She struggled for all she was worth, but there was nothing she could do to break free of her captors. She was helpless. She’d just have to stand there and watch it destroy the person she had come to love.

As the liquid doused Sam, Samantha braced herself, expecting to hear the horrible shrieks so often accompanied by a dousing of Ioric acid.

But as Sam became completely lost in the waterfall of acid, there was, strangely, not a single sound.

Had it killed him so quickly, so completely, that he didn’t even have a chance to scream? As the liquid stopped, Sam came into view.

And Samantha was truly shocked. As was every other vampire in the room.

He was fine. He blinked and looked around, clearly not in pain. He even looked a bit defiant.

It was incredible. Samantha had never seen anything like it—never seen anyone, human or vampire, immune to the liquid. That is, anyone except for one person. Now she remembered. Caitlin. His sister. She had been immune, too. What could that mean? Was it because they were genetically linked? She thought back to his watch, to the inscription. The Rose and the Thorn. Was the dynasty split between them? Could it be that she wasn’t The One?

But that he was?

Caitlin was a few years older than Sam, and perhaps she’d showed signs of coming-of-age sooner than he. Perhaps, if they had waited a few years, Sam would also have shown signs of morphing into a half-breed.

Whatever the reason, he was clearly immune. Which made him very, very powerful. And very dangerous to her coven.

Samantha looked around, and in the room of several hundred vampires, there was not a sound. They all just stared, in shock.

Sam looked pissed. He reached up, dragging his chains, and wiped the water from his face. He tugged at the chains, but could not get free.

“Can someone get me out of this fucking thing!?” he screamed.

And then, it happened.

Suddenly, there was a crash at the door.

Samantha spun around, and watched as the huge set of double doors came crashing down.

She couldn’t believe it. There stood Kyle, half his face disfigured, Sergei at his side, and hundreds of mercenary vampires behind him.

And that wasn’t all. Kyle had it. Was holding it high. The Sword.

Kyle let out a horrific scream and charged madly, headlong, into the room. His supporters followed close behind, shrieking, on a rampage. And the room broke into mayhem.

It was vampire against vampire, as Kyle and his men viciously attacked every being in sight. But the Blacktide Coven had been at war for thousands of years, and it was not about to give in easily. Rexius’ vampires fought back with equal determination.

It was an outright battle, hand to hand, vampire to vampire. Neither was giving an inch.

But Kyle himself made incredible headway. He held the Sword high, with both hands, and swung it widely in both directions. Wherever he went, vampires fell. Arms, legs, heads…. Kyle was a one-man army. He cut a path right through the crowd of thousands of vampires, murdering each one.

Samantha was shocked. In her thousands of years, she had never seen a vampire murdered, actually, ultimately, killed. She had never pictured a vampire as frail. This Sword was awe-inspiring. And very, very deadly.

Samantha didn’t wait any longer. As a vampire charged her, screaming, his bloody, sharpened teeth aimed right for her face, she quickly ducked, let him fly over her, and then took off at a sprint.

She charged across the room, heading right for Sam.

Just in time. A rogue vampire had the same idea, and was going right for the chained, petrified boy. The vampire leapt right for Sam, teeth extended, aiming for his throat. He was like a lamb chained in a room full of lions.

Samantha reached him just in time. She leapt, colliding with the vampire in midair and knocking him down to the ground. Before he could get up, Samantha backhanded him hard, knocking him out cold.

She jumped to her feet and tore at Sam’s chains. As she set him free, he looked all around in utter disbelief, as if he were watching a fantastical nightmare come to life.

“Samantha,” he said, “what the hell is going on—”

“Not now,” Samantha said, as she tore the last of his chains, grabbed his arm, and jerked him, leading him through the mayhem. She was heading for the exit.

As they ran, another rogue vampire leapt right for them, teeth extended.

Samantha grabbed Sam and threw him to the ground, ducked herself, and the vampire leapt right over their heads.

She quickly regained her feet, dragging him up, and they sprinted through the room. They managed to duck and weave, she all the while leading them. She knew that if she could just make that door, there was a back corridor, a rear staircase that could take them to the street. Once outside, she could take them far, far from here.

In all the mayhem, no one noticed them sprinting. She was almost out the door, only feet away.

And then, just as she was about to make it, she felt the pressure on her back, felt herself tumbling, hitting the floor. She had been jumped from behind.

She spun around and looked up to see who it was. Sergei. That despicable little Russian sidekick to Kyle. The one who had stolen the Sword from her hand.

He grinned down at her, an evil, cruel grin, and she hated him more than she’d ever had.

Sam, to his credit, showed no fear. Still shackled, he jumped onto Sergei’s back, using his chains, wrapping them around Sergei’s throat. The boy was strong. He actually squeezed hard enough to get Sergei to loosen his grip on Samantha, and she used the opportunity to roll out from under him.

But Sam was no match for a vampire, nonetheless. Sergei stood, snarling, and threw Sam off of him like a ragdoll. Sam landed ten feet away, crashing into the wall.

As Samantha tried to scramble to her feet, she was pounced on by a dozen more vampires. She saw that Sam was surrounded, too. They were trapped.

The last thing she saw was Sergei’s cruel smile, as he wound up and punched her in the face.

*

As Kyle ripped through the huge chamber of the Blacktide Coven, wielding the Sword wildly, destroying vampire after vampire, he had never felt more alive. Blood splattered in every direction, covering him, and his hands felt wet with blood as he swung with more and more intensity. It was vengeance. Vengeance for his thousands of years of loyal service, for the way they’d treated him. How dare they. Now they would know the meaning of the word revenge. They would all apologize, every last one of them, bow down to him, down to the ground, and admit that they had been profoundly wrong.

It was all going perfectly. After his little detour at the Brooklyn Bridge, he had led his loyal throng right through the doors of City Hall, killing the few vampires who dared stand in the way. They had then filed through the secret passageway, lower and lower, into the bowels of City Hall, right into his coven’s nest. No vampires dared stand in his way as his army stormed the chamber. Many other vampires, upon seeing Kyle, and especially the Sword, immediately fell in with him. He was happy to see that so many of his old coven were still loyal. He knew that the day had arrived for him to claim rightful leadership.

Rexius was a weak leader. If he had been stronger, he would have found the Sword himself, years ago. He never would have sent others to do it. He liked to punish others for his own faults, when he was the one that needed to be punished. He had grown drunk with power. Banishing Kyle had been a last, desperate attempt to remove all those close to him. But it had backfired.

As Kyle tore through the room, he headed right for Rexius’ throne. Rexius spotted him coming, and his eyes opened wide with panic.

Rexius jumped down from his throne and tried to slink away, away from the fighting. Their so-called leader, showing his true colors in a time of war.

But Kyle had other plans.

Kyle ran to the other side, to meet Rexius face-to-face. It would have been much easier to just plunge the Sword into his back, but he refused to allow Rexius to go down so easily. He wanted Rexius to see, up close, who killed them.

Rexius stopped, his path blocked by Kyle’s massive shoulders, by the shining, gleaming Sword.

Rexius jaw trembled. He raised a shaking finger, pointing it at Kyle’s face. At that moment, he just looked like an old man. A weak, old, terrified man. How pathetic.

“You are banished!” he yelled, lamely. “I ordered you banished!”

Now it was Kyle’s turn to grin, a wide, malicious grin.

“You cannot win!” Rexius added. “You will not win!”

Kyle stepped up casually, reached back, and with one, smooth stroke, plunged the Sword right through Rexius’ heart.

“I already have,” Kyle said.

The entire room, even while busy in battle, turned and stared at the sound. It was a horrific screech, consuming the entire stone chamber. It seemed to go on forever, as Rexius screeched and screeched. As they all watched, his body dissolved before their eyes, disintegrating into a cloud of smoke, and then a wisp, rising up, into the air and towards the ceiling.

The whole room stopped and stared at Kyle.

Kyle raised the Sword high, and roared. It was a roar of victory.

Whatever vampire survived, on both sides of the battle, turned and faced Kyle. They all dropped to their knees, then lowered their heads, bowing all the way to the ground. The fighting was over.

Kyle breathed deeply, taking it all in. He was their leader now.