Page 14 of The Shadows of the Dawn

Asher cursed and jumped up, barking at Nikola, “Stay down.” With his strength returning to him, Nikola would not be doing that. As Asher sprinted out into the road, Nikola dragged himself up, using the car’s carcass as leverage.

Nikola beheld the aftermath of a Blood Follower gone feral. Four bodies of human men dressed in black gear—body armor, as if they’d been on their way to stop a riot—were strewn about the asphalt, limbs scattered randomly and blood drenching the scene.

Three of the men were clearly dead, but one retained a heartbeat, albeit a faint one. Otherwise, he was unconscious.

Trish and Katsuki had both arms held out, palms pressed forward. Asher wrangled a thrashing, howling Liam away from the breathing human. Nikola went to push himself away from the van to assist Asher, but the source of Liam’s meltdown caught his eye.

Moss laid prone next to the folded passenger door, their left leg and neck bent at unnatural angles. Their face, green eyes opened and unseeing, was bruised and swollen beyond recognition.

Liam’s screams took on a clearer note, that of loss and tragedy. Nikola understood his turmoil all too well, the empathy flushing out the resentment he reserved for the young man.

His feet shuffled him forward, his body swaying with a limp. When he knelt, his body weight won out, and he painfully crashed to his knees next to the human.

Nikola pressed his shaking fingers to Moss’s cheek, finding the warmth he sought out. As long as there was still heat, there was a chance. There was an ancient proverb that the soul lingered close to its warm body, as if warming beside a bonfire before its journey across the cold land of the dead.

“Don’t touch them!” Liam’s voice pierced the night. Nikola briefly looked back and spotted Asher holding the Blood Follower down, his knee pressed against the back of his neck and his arm twisted against his spine. A decade of handling feral newborns was coming in handy.

“Let him help,” Asher snarled, pushing his knee down harder, his silver eye glowing. Liam screamed into the concrete but ceased struggling.

Thank the heavens Nikola hadn’t lost too much blood during the car crash. He drew in a breath and grabbed Moss’s head, forcing it back into proper position. He clenched his teeth at the grotesque cracking and Liam’s resulting high-pitched screams. Next, the leg. Gruesome, yes, but necessary to make the Change as painless as possible.

It occurred in the back of his mind that he was making it a habit of bringing the dead back to life. But at least this time it was somewhat traditional, even if the circumstances were not.

If he did this, he would be responsible for Moss.

Nikola stalled, perhaps costing Moss everything by doing so. Hadn’t Asher mentioned the infertility of hybrids?

The Goddess’s voice drifted over him, a whisper in the winter breeze laced with the smell of blood. “My brother and I guide your hand, Dear Nikola.”

“The vampire who carries the spirit of both Moon and Blood cannot recreate someone of their own choosing,” the God rumbled, reminding Nikola of his standing against the divine. “But we choose this one tonight.”

“The world is ready,” they said in unison.

He couldn’t hesitate any longer. He at least had to try.

He split open veins and pried apart Moss’s paling lips, angling their head gently as to let gravity do the work. Nikola bled into the human, his first. He’d never intended on Changing someone, to curse them with eternal nighttime and unforgiving immortality. But if he let Moss die, they would lose Liam to the Blood’s insanity, and it was unlikely Trish would follow them to Grander if that were the case. And then what?

It felt as if the fate of all vampires rested on Moss opening their eyes.

Not that Nikola’s motives were so selfish. Moss simply didn’t deserve to die. None of this was the human’s fault. If not for the actions of the undead, Moss would still be home with their loved ones, worrying over their missing partner but alive all the same. Vampires led Moss to their demise, and it would be a vampire that brought them back.

Eventually, Nikola was left with nothing more to give, his blood vessels hollow. He registered the chill settling into his skin, the aging process soon to follow. Moss’s skin flushed rose, the color chasing away the bruises and the swelling visibly subsiding.

Liam’s screeches and howls tapered off into shuddering whimpers as Moss’s heart began to beat. Nikola swallowed hard, not anticipating the rush of pride and accomplishment as Moss stirred in his arms. When he’d revived Asher, he hadn’t felt like he’d become Asher’s creator. This was different.

Nikola Kingston was Moss’s sire.

Moss gasped their first immortal breath, eyelids fluttering lazily. Nikola cursed, prompting the others to gather around. “What is it?” Liam cried, shoving off Asher and dropping next to the newborn. “Moss, are you okay? Moss?”

Red and silver eyes found Liam. Nikola and Asher looked at each other heavily, Asher’s jaw clenched. “Well, my love,” Asher said. “You certainly have a knack for creating hybrids, eh?”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Asher

There were definitely some things Asher was worried about regarding Moss’s Change. Sure, newborns in general were a handful, but Asher and Nikola hadn’t technically been newborns when they’d Converted to both Moon and Blood. But Moss was as green as grass. Would they take more to Blood nature, being violent and insatiable, or more like a newbie Moon, which Asher had absolutely zero experience with?

Well, at least for the time being, Moss was out like a light, their body still adjusting. Nikola cradled them as they hurried down the road, their slight build making them appear childlike compared to Nikola’s bulk.

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