In the Dark (16 page)

“What happened?” Soren asked calmly, stepping into his line of sight.

“We made a mistake. We made a terrible mistake.” Bareth shook his head as if still trying to sort things out.

Captain Savard stopped short. “Should we not have killed the demon?”

“Oh, no, it had to die.” Bareth fell silent for a long moment, then returned his focus to Soren. “We were right. They're looking for our cities.”

The captain cursed, the sound echoing off the tunnel wall. Soren walked right up to Bareth. “How do you know?”

Bareth reached out and gripped his shoulders. “With my sword buried deep in its chest, it said, ‘It begins with me. Now watch your people die.'”

“A dying man wanting the last word.” Captain Savard shook his head.

“No,” Bareth whispered, a haunted look in his eyes. “I have seen many deaths, heard many last words and prayers. This was different. It had no fear in its eyes, only absolute certainty. Like it knew when and how we would be defeated. Like its death was a signal.”

Chapter 15

Soren had rescued her from Nero and Flynn and sent the Guardians where they would be put to better use. Now she walked between him and Gustav, her arm looped around his, and once again guarded by two men.

He had plenty of reasons to worry about her safety. Gustav agreed, and planned on staying in Balinese to watch over Faith for the next few nights while Soren helped the captain. Having the alert and wary Stalker in his home would be a relief.

“Is Bareth all right? What happened?” Faith asked.

Soren took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. He'd waited for this question. “He's fine. The demon gave a prophecy before Bareth killed it.”

“What kind of prophecy?”

“It foretold the end of the vampire race. It takes a great deal to shake Bareth, and Navarre is taking every precaution,” Soren said.

“Does what the demon said really matter if he's dead?”

“Navarre won't take any chances. Captain Savard and I have started organizing Guardians for a possible attack. I don't know if it will help. I feel more worn out than prepared.” He brought her hand to his lips, kissed her knuckles.

“And I'm so happy to help, by the way.” Gustav sent Soren an irritated smirk. “I can't believe I'm stuck here.”

“Navarre asked you to stay for a couple days. You're the one who said yes.” Sympathy was unneeded. Gustav's sarcastic comments veiled a genuine concern.

Faith giggled. “At least you'll have a great sleep. Even a couch would be better than your bed. I've slept on that thing, and...”

He and Gustav held up their hands to silence her and she shut her mouth and held still.

The door to his home had been left wide open. Without a word, Gustav pulled his sword free, and disappeared through the open door alone. Soren pulled Faith to his side, gun in hand, and waited for Gustav to return.

The deafening silence worked his nerves, tumbling possibilities through his mind.

Gustav reappeared and shook his head slowly. “Go have a look.”

“Did someone break in?” she whispered to Gustav.

“Not exactly,” he said, and stood rigid, gazed glued on the doorway. Not a good sign.

“Stay here,” Soren said low, and left her with Gustav.

The demon blood the Guardians had spilled last night had been removed from the carpet. He'd asked the servants to eliminate any trace of the demon, and after they'd finished, made a point of verifying that it was ready for Faith to come home. The room had been spotless before someone made this mess.

A lamp had been knocked over, and a vase from the dresser had shattered on the floor. Strange.

One of her small silver hoop earrings had fallen onto the floor, which he picked up. No damage. No theft. Things at arm level had been tossed around, scattered like someone had left in anger. His empty home had made someone extremely disappointed.

He didn't want Faith anywhere near this place. Stepping over the lamp, he reached for the silent alarm on the wall.

Before he could touch it, the city's alarm sounded. The siren rang through his home and the hallways, as it would throughout Balinese.

* * * *

Soren ran out the door, gun in one hand and his sword in the other. Something was seriously wrong. She'd jumped when the alarm blared, and Gustav had cursed repeatedly. But Soren? He'd emerged unruffled, almost as if he'd switched into Guardian mode.

“And that noise is?” Gustav yelled above the blaring alarm.

“It can only be set off by a Guardian. We're under attack.” Soren checked his gun, then handed it to Gustav. “Take her to the arena.”

“No! I want to stay with you,” she cried.

“Navarre is the heart of this city. If he dies, the city is lost. I have to protect him.” Soren kissed her soundly, then pushed her toward Gustav. “Take her. Go.”

Gustav hooked his arm around her and forced her to move. He'd taken her away from Soren so fast, she hadn't seen which way he'd gone. It didn't matter. She couldn't follow him. Gustav had a fierce hold on her.

Together they wove through the vampires, somehow always moving against them. Gustav sheltered her from the panicked people flooding the hallways.

“What's in the arena?” she asked, her voice barely audible above the alarm.

“Protection,” Gustav said, never slowing.

They turned the next corner sharply, and she lost her footing. Gustav righted her, bumping into another man in the process. They kept moving.

More men darted past them, leaving only a few in the corridor. If the arena equaled safety, then why weren't more people here?

At her side, Gustav constantly searched the faces of those surrounding them. He'd noticed it, too.

“Move faster,” he snapped.

She ran. Fear of the unknown kept her moving. The alarm vibrated through her, interfered with the pounding rhythm of her heart. They were almost there. The arena doors were just ahead.

“Run,” Gustav yelled. Then suddenly he released her, shoved her forward.

Her body slammed hard against the arena door, jolting her teeth. The air left her lungs in a huff, and she let the door support her as she caught her breath.

She spun around to find Gustav. He lay facedown on the ground, Soren's gun several feet from his hand, and a red-eyed man stood over him. The demon pried its sword from Gustav's back, blood coating the blade.

Faith screamed. A stupid and thoughtless action, but she couldn't stop. Gustav's lifeless eyes still stared in her direction. Tears fell freely, blurring her vision. Gustav shouldn't be dead. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair.

Those red eyes turned on her, and she screamed again. Not daring to turn her back on the creature, she pounded the door behind her with the side of her fist.

The demon stalked her with a sinister smile, unconcerned with his surroundings. Blade lowered, he focused on her, his prey.

“Hello, human.” The demon licked his lips, making a show of baring his fangs.

An icy chill surrounded her for only a moment, then she felt the solid length of a man at her back, and his thick arm encircled her. The demon stopped his advance and raised his blade. Who had her, she didn't know, but he must be vampire.

“This one's not for you, Red,” the man behind her said.

The demon charged them. The solid objects around her became hazy. Her head spun, and she couldn't tell up from down. Her stomach churned and muscles quivered like jelly, but it only lasted for a moment.

“Faith,” the man said, bowing his head slightly. “I trust your short travel in Spirit wasn't too uncomfortable.”

Her balance faltered in the arena sand, and he caught her, made certain she was steady before he released her again.

“Titus?” she asked, and he gave her a lopsided grin, confirming his identity.

Dyre came to her side, and guided her away from the doors into the center of the arena. They slipped through a ring of Guardians, and then a circle of men. In the center, a multitude of women looked as frightened as she felt. Even so, they stood their ground, swords held awkwardly before them.

The cool hilt of a sword landed in her hand, and she opened her mouth to protest, but Dyre hadn't placed it there. He'd already gone. Elin stood at her side, gripping a narrow blade expertly.

“What do we do?” Faith scrubbed the lingering tears from her face and tightened both fists around the sword hilt. Like the other women, lifting the heavy sword was a challenge.

“We make sure no demon touches the children,” Elin whispered, gaze fixed on the double doors.

Faith spun around. There, in the heart of the circle, children huddled together. They held hands, not making a peep. Sand shifted as the constantly vigilant Guardians moved around the men and women.

No longer was there a question whether they might be attacked. It was a matter of when. She would have been more scared, but for the fact she wasn't alone. Behind her, innocent children depended on her for safety. Women stood alongside her, setting aside differences to join together and protect the children. Men and Guardians defended the lot of them. She wasn't an outsider here anymore, but part of them, one of them. She was home. And to save these people, she would do anything.

Faith prayed for Soren's safety. She missed him, wanted him by her side, craved the sense of security she'd come to rely on from him. Now she could only wonder, had he found Navarre? Was he safe? Or had he been killed as easily as Gustav?

A sob threatened to escape, and she choked it down. Soren would want her to be strong, and she planned to make him proud.

Chapter 16

Soren warily eyed the twenty plus demons stalking toward them in the narrow corridor. He didn't like this, not their smiles nor their slow pace. His skin itched with apprehension. “Where's Navarre?”

“Headed to the council room, last I saw,” Bareth answered, twisting his sword in his hand, impatient to split a demon in two.

“What?” Captain Savard snapped, grabbing Bareth's shirtsleeve in his fist. “I left him in the arena. Was Sampson with him?”

“No.” Bareth shook his head slowly, then his jaw dropped, as if he'd just realized what his words meant.

“He'll be trapped,” Captain Savard whispered. The demons were no longer important. “Nero, Soren, Flynn. Come with me. Bareth, take command.”

“Yes, sir.” Bareth smiled with eager anticipation.

“Guardians!” Captain Savard's voice echoed down the halls. “Follow Bareth. He will bring justice this day.”

The Guardians roared their acceptance even as Captain Savard moved through his men with the chosen three on his heels.

“For Balinese!” Bareth yelled.

“Balinese!” the Guardians behind him roared in response.

Once they'd cleared the Guardians, Soren and the three men with him vanished, took their Spirit forms and raced through walls and earth. This was the shortest route to the council room. One corridor, one waiting room, a short hallway and they would be there.

Captain Savard released his Spirit in the waiting room, and ran.

“Captain?” Steffen's voice came over the captain's radio.

Captain Savard cursed as he answered the call, running with a sword in one hand and now a radio in the other. Soren and the other Guardians ran behind him, their footfalls heavy, determined.

“I'm a little busy,” the captain replied, nearly growling.

“I see red eyes. Demons are in the woods,” Steffen said.

“How many?”

“Ten. Fifteen, maybe.” The radio crackled, but between the static Steffen said one clear word: “Coming.”

“Hold your ground!” Captain Savard shouted into the radio as they rounded the corner. They were mere feet from the council room. “Do you hear me, Steffen? Hold your ground! Don't let those vermin through our gates!”

“I thought they'd already breeched the gates,” Soren said, dread curling in his stomach.

The radio went dead.

Captain Savard threw open the doors to the council room and they charged inside. Empty. It was empty.

“Damn. Find him!” their captain yelled as he ran back out the door.

“How?” Nero called after him.

“We try his rooms.” Captain Savard surged forward, racing far ahead of his men.

Soren had never seen the captain so angry, or push himself so hard. He'd always been the levelheaded one, the crisis control, the solid ground. They needed their captain composed right now, as Guardians, and as men who had families somewhere in the city.

Not many had ever witnessed raw emotion from Captain Savard. Had the attack brought it out, or Navarre's disappearance?

They finally reached the secluded wing belonging to the lord of Balinese. It was quiet, still. Soren feared they were too late.

“Navarre!” Captain Savard yelled, bursting into Navarre's home.

No answer, or any sound at all. Soren searched the adjoining rooms. Nothing.

“Oh, no. No!” Flynn's aggrieved cry tore through them. Soren's heart lurched. They ran to him, each step seeming sluggishly surreal.

Sampson lay on the floor, discarded, several gaping holes in his chest. In death, his fingers still clenched his bloodied sword. That he was not Navarre didn't make it any easier.

“If Sampson is dead...” Nero couldn't finish the sentence.

“They might already have him,” Captain Savard finished for him.

“They might not,” Soren said. He could barely catch a solid stream of thought. Adrenaline was not always a good thing. “Navarre is smart. He's strong. What if he escaped?”

“Leaving Sampson?” Nero asked in disbelief.

“Maybe Sampson stayed as a decoy.” Soren grasped for an explanation.

The captain shook his head with certainty. “Not on Navarre's orders.”

“Navarre could be fighting,” Flynn suggested quietly.

“Don't say that.” Captain Savard combed his fingers through his hair roughly, anger seeping from him. “Damn you, don't you dare say that.”

“Why? Why not say it?” Soren glared at the captain.

“Because he would!” the captain roared, shooting him a level stare.

Flynn looked near hopelessness. “He could be anywhere.”

“Captain?” Nero called in an anxious voice from the doorway.

They joined him, followed his stare down the empty hallway.

Soren stepped into the corridor. Nothing. Then from his right came the faint clash of swords.

“To your lord,” Captain Savard yelled, bolting down the corridor.

Soren followed, Flynn and Nero on his heels. They rounded the corner, and Soren carried too much momentum. He banked off the left wall. Here, in the corridor leading to the main entrance of the city, Navarre battled alone, holding off three demons.

Captain Savard heaved a demon off Navarre, neatly slicing its arm. The creature's flailing surprise made its heart an easy target. Soren and Nero took out the other two by stabbing them deep in their backs.

No time to catch their breath. Six more demons came from the city's dark entrance. Two went for Navarre, two more charged after the captain, completely ignoring the rest of the Guardians.

Nero intercepted a demon, as did Flynn. Soren aided Navarre, thrusting his blade through the ribs of a particularly tall one. It bellowed in anger. As he pulled his sword from the demon, it turned on him.

Soren ducked under the creature's sword arm and stabbed it in the ribs again. This time it faltered, went to its knees. Soren didn't waste the opportunity. He drove his fist into its face, knocked it on its back, and pierced it through the heart.

Nero and Flynn still fought the same demons, and the two after Captain Savard had backed him against the wall. They'd have to wait. Soren strode toward Navarre, intent on finishing off the threat to his lord.

A demon broke away from Captain Savard, barreled at Soren. Unlike the first demon he'd bested, this one was ready for him.

Their swords met. The heavy metal clatter echoed off the stone surrounding them. Soren threw his weight against the demon, pushed it back to gain ground. They broke apart, and his quick jabs were barely enough to keep the demon from getting too close.

Nero cried out, and Soren glanced in time to see his friend fall and the demon easily overpower him now that he was down. There was nothing he could do. Nero was already gone.

A sharp pain sliced along his bicep, and he poured out his anger through his sword, slamming it down hard on the demon, bombarding the foul creature's defenses. He had to kill it quickly. Nero's killer had set its sights on Navarre.

Captain Savard blocked a killing blow to Flynn, but paid for it with a deep gash to his side. With the enemy's next strike, Flynn fell, and as he did, the demon surged at Captain Savard.

Savard dropped to his knees, shoved his blade upward, into the assailant's ribcage. The demon dropped, and Savard rolled away, using the corpse to block a blow from a second demon.

How wrong, this whole scenario felt. Every time a vampire went down, the enemy went for the captain or Navarre. They'd cornered the two men in command of the city, and they were well aware of that fact.

His attack became more aggressive, driving the demon back hard. With no choice but to step backward and catch its balance, it tripped over a body, then tumbled onto the floor. Soren speared his sword through its neck, then its chest.

The crying, screaming of children muted the sounds of clashing metal. He whipped around, trying to pinpoint the origin.

“Savard!” Navarre shouted, pointing at the doorway to the chateau's cellar.

Captain Savard followed his direction, as did Soren. Farther up the corridor, six demons made their exit from the city, each carrying a child. Two of the young girls had fathers right here, lying dead on the floor. The last demon held the youngest, a small toddler with short wispy curls and round, frightened eyes. She belonged to Sampson.

“No!” Captain Savard yelled as he dodged blow after blow from the demon. “You stay here.”

“Get this filth out of my city, Captain,” Navarre snapped as he shoved the demon, jabbed his sword deep in its gut. It fell, leaving only one for Soren. The lord of Balinese sprinted after the children.

Soren drove his blade through his bleeding victim, then engaged the other assailant, blocking it from following Navarre. “Go, Captain. Help Navarre,” he urged.

He glanced back. The demon lay dead and Captain Savard had disappeared.

With renewed strength, he battered the last demon, and as he caught its shoulder, it howled in pain. Its arm hung, useless. He finished it, sending his sword through its heart.

Soren ripped off the end of his shirt, tied it tightly around his arm to stop his blood from oozing out. He stepped over the bodies of friends and foes, and made his way above. The door had been flung wide open.

As he dashed through the cellar and up the stairs, the hollow sound of every footfall ricocheted through the night. It shouldn't be this quiet.

He stepped from the kitchen and into the main room. The tall, arched windows cast fat moonlit stripes onto the floor, making a gruesome spotlight.

Navarre sprawled on the floor, unmoving. Blood coated his shirt, his hands, and pooled on the floor beneath him.

Just outside the light, Captain Savard knelt beside his lord, head hanging, chin to chest, his breathing harsh and uneven.

“Is he...” Soren began, but stopped himself from saying the word. The thought alone was horrifying.

“No. I fed him, but I don't have enough. I could only close the wound. He's not conscious and won't take more. I've tried.” Captain Savard struggled to catch his breath. Young features twisted in pain, he pressed his hand against his side, where his own blood continued to spill from that deep gash. “Take Navarre below and hide him. Do you hear me? Hide him. Come back for Steffen. He needs your vein.”

Captain Savard fought to stand, bracing himself on a nearby chair. His body refused to stay upright. He'd been weakened. Drained.

“Where's Steffen?”

The captain pointed to a shadowed corner. There, a pair of legs lay on the floor at an odd angle in the dim light, the rest hidden from sight in shadows.

The captain grunted as he pushed away from the chair, sucking in deep, readying breaths.

“Where are you going?” Soren demanded.

“To get those children.”

By the time Soren had opened his mouth, Captain Savard had gone out the door and into the night.

Soren knelt at Navarre's side. Raising his head and shoulders carefully, he lifted his lord. Navarre's warm blood quickly soaked through his shirt and his hold became slippery.

“I will return, Steffen,” Soren said to the dark corner.

“Forget me,” Steffen replied, his breath rattling in his chest. “Only Navarre is important.”

“It's nearly dawn, my friend. I won't leave you here for the sunlight. I'll be back for you. That's a promise.”

His options had been seriously limited. He couldn't venture into the city carrying Navarre, so he'd backtracked to the outer corridor and slipped inside a small closet. Gently, he laid Navarre down and repositioned several boxes to conceal him.

Hiding Navarre and retrieving Steffen blurred together. Steffen had been unconscious by the time he'd returned and would live, but without the aid of blood, his body would take a long time to heal.

As he laid Steffen on a small cot in the clinic, a familiar tickling skittered across the back of his neck. The sun was rising. He prayed Captain Savard had found the children before the dawn claimed them. He could no longer help the captain, or the children.

* * * *

The doors to the arena burst open, and Faith jumped, along with hundreds of other women. Almost an hour had passed since the last demon had dropped in, and the grating sound of the doors opening released a whole new batch of adrenaline through her.

Sword raised, she strained to see over or between the men. Not one demon had made it past the Guardians, but being unprepared wouldn't help anyone.

She waited. No swords clashing or grunting. No fighting. The men started speaking at once, breaking the tense silence.

“Is it over?”

“Have they gone?”

Voices she didn't recognize belonging to men she couldn't see. Frustrating.

“Soren, is it safe?”

“I don't know yet,” he answered. “I need you to keep everyone here. We're going to sweep the city before anyone leaves the safety of the arena.”

Faith dropped her sword and pushed through the men. She ducked under one man's elbow, and through eyes blurred with tears, finally caught sight of Soren. He was covered in blood. Black blood, mixed with red. It coated his hands, streaked across his face, and soaked his shirtsleeve and torso. Some patches had dried, though others looked very fresh. A sob escaped her throat, and he found her instantly.

Numbing shock planted her feet in the sand, but she didn't need to move. In two long strides he was there, his hands on her face, brushing her tears away.

“It's not all mine, Faith. I'm not hurt badly. Promise.”

She nodded, hiccupping through her tears, not knowing how to tell him. “Gustav...he saved me...he's...” Then she broke down, sobbing, leaning on him for strength.

“I know, Faith. I know.”