~ 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
~The surrounding air changed. Marx stopped, and so did the others. Before them, the air swirled, getting wider and wider, growing into a vortex of glowing lights. Apprehensive, the group kept back. “It’s Ava,” Daniel said. “We need to move now.” He was the first through the portal, Marx and the others following behind him. They came out in the middle of the melee. There were vampires, and there were werewolves already locked in battle. Immediately, the fight came to them, a link already established between them and their allied vampires. They all filed through the portal, closing behind them. Vescovi found Marx. “Finally, we meet.” The men gripped each other by the forearm.
~The allies gathered when they were the only ones left. The hill lied in rubbles, Anabella’s cleaners taking care of the bodies. Marx had expected a more cordial meeting, but the three vampires stood some distance from him. All their gazes and loathing aimed at Ava. He was missing a big part of the story, as the three seemed to know her. Their collective hate was so strong he could almost taste it. As the werewolves took their human forms, clothes fashioned around them. Courtesy of a runic symbol that Ava had imprinted on their skin during the fight. Along with that rune was another that helped the werewolves to communicate when in their wolf form. “What is the meaning of this?” Marx asked. “There will be no alliance with that murderer,” Philippe pointed towards Ava.
~21 days since her disappearance~ “Shea. Shea.” The voice shifted in and out. At one point, it sounded as if it was miles away, but every time she heard it, it seemed to drift closer and closer. She wanted it to go away. “Shea? Can you hear me?” Shea raised up, roaring, pushing away the voice. The voice disappeared. She sat up to find herself in a puddle, feeling dazed. A few moments later, it registered to her it was raining. Sheets of rain drummed down on her, thunder rolling in the distance. Head back, she allowed the water to beat down on her face. “Shea?” She looked toward the voice that had called her back to the present. It was Ichiro. He got to his feet, rubbing the back of
~Shea woke from her nightmare fighting against ghosts that were not there. “Hey, hey, it’s all right.” Ichiro got up from the chair where he sat by her window. The rain outside was now a drizzle. Holding her by the wrists, he held her down as she continued to fight. Ichiro had to straddle her on the bed to keep her down. “You’re safe now.” She continued to buck and kick, trying to get free. “Shea! Stop fighting me.” A few seconds later, she settled down, her chest heaving. Ichiro kept her pinned all the same. Her thick, wild mane of hair covered her face. It was longer than it had been when last he saw her. Two months ago, he did not know this woman. He and Zigor had not been on the Mountain for two full mont
~Garrick, Helick, Ichiro, Zigor, Martha, and Nico gathered in the living room. Shea was filling them in. “So we killed him?” Garrick asked. Shea nodded. “Yup.” Helick ran a hand over his face. “And that’s how he changed.” “With the help of Ava’s stone, yes.” “Did he say where Sven’s hiding?” Zigor asked. Shea pursed her lips. “Ah crap,” Helick said. “I feel the bad news coming.” “He’s held up at a maximum-security prison.” They looked at her, confused. “A prison?” Garrick asked.