Page 25 of Until the Heart Stops
I’d been lucky to have Adrienne and Noah. Adrienne had moved into the city and Noah’s spare room about six months prior when my mother had given her a job as a blood giver. Then it had been my turn.
Last night Adrienne had returned to her family home on the outskirts of Oylen by Eamon’s luxurious coach. Noah was on patrol, as the Vyenur didn’t usually celebrate All Souls. To a Vyenur, there was nothing to mourn. Their dead were born anew within months of falling, new bodies and new personalities, but the same souls.
Each time a Vyenur died, a new one quite literally rose from the ground.
So I wandered through the empty city streets, tucking the shawl tight around my shoulders and eyeing the sky for signs of snow. The bond tying me to my unknown immortal had been subdued since he’d woken from his daytime rest. But it was still comforting, like a hand resting on one shoulder.
No one knew how vampires celebrated All Souls. Every vampire had once been human, save for the very first immortal who had been created by Amayah herself within that drop of blood from her breast. But Seth had been lost to history long before the Covenant took power—the rumor was he’d buried himself deep into the earth when he’d seen the monsters his children had become. Many whispered that if Seth was to return, the Covenant would be brought to heel. I’d once asked Eamon if he’d ever laid eyes on the immortal and he’d merely replied in a solemn tone:Yes.And answered no more of my questions.
But I knew the Covenant had put a stop to whatever celebrations they used to hold. Once they’d held similar gatherings to the ones we did, but their altars had been filled with chalices of their own blood. I’d read that in countries other than Oylen, like Flourisant where Liamhailed from, they still carried on the practice, even honoring their mortal selves.
I climbed higher through the city, toward the ramparts overlooking the western sea. The dark stones beneath me were smoothed with time, little indentations worn where thousands of feet had walked before me. I wrapped a hand around one of the twisted black spires jutting up from the hip-high stone wall and rested my head against the freezing metal.
Far off at the ocean’s edge, smears of bright, flickering orange burst into life. All the Lycan clans within Oylen traveled together once a year to the black sand beach and sent boats off into the endless waves before setting them aflame with burning arrows. A Lycan lover I’d once had the honor of knowing—for they usually kept to themselves—told me the small boats were a representation of their grief and, in that act, they burned the parts of their loss which hung heavy on their souls.
I sighed. The freezing air bit at my exposed hands, my cheeks, but I couldn’t find it in myself to move. All those fires drifting off into the ocean waves transfixed me. The wind pushed back the loose curls fallen from my braid and sliced over my temples, taking a few unacknowledged tears with them.
Perhaps this was my own moment of mourning for those I’d lost.
The wind rustled at my back and I leaned forward to look over the side of the ramparts. Another rustle, followed by a series of rhythmic clicks. My eyes went wide, but I could no longer see the smears of orange across the black water. Painfully slowly, I turned, reaching into my corset for my silver dagger, biting back a scream.
One would have thought it was merely a shadow hovering in the far corner. But shadows did not shiver andshake, they did not click like bones tapping together. The scent hit me all at once: putrid death and rancid sweetness forcing bile to rise in my throat. Another low series of snaps had my shoulders tensing. I drew in a deep breath, reaching for my small pool of magic.
A single venefica I could dispatch. It would be a close fight but I knew I could win. I slid one foot back, crouching low. There was no running from these creatures—once they scented you they wouldn’t stop. I’d heard of venefica crashing through stone walls to get to their prey. The creature appeared to hesitate, shifting back onto its hind legs.
“If you want me, you’ll have to come and get me,” I whispered.
Another call from the venefica burst through the night right as the first monster lunged. I cursed, flipping my blade in my fist. Its smooth, muscled body shimmered as it raced from the shadows toward me, those bone pincers snapping. I shifted forward and thrust the dagger up, catching it beneath its triangular head and sliding the blade into the only soft part of its body.
It gave a groan, segmented limbs jerking as I pulled my dagger free. A single click was all the warning I had before another pounced, claws dragging down my shoulder and slicing the shawl clean off my body. I twisted, cleaving through the air only for the tip of the blade to bounce off its back—their hide so thick it was impenetrable to most weapons.
Another series of clicks from my other side pulled my attention, but not before I pushed my magic outward, throwing the creature back enough for me to get my feet beneath me again. I must have come too close to a nest, but usually the Vyenurs sectioned off known nests in the city.
My heart crashed against my ribs and all the coldvanished from my limbs. I narrowed my gaze as the two…no, not two. Merciful fucking goddess, there weresix, crawling up from the brush and forest beneath the ramparts. Sweat beaded at my temples. The bond linking me to my unknown immortal pulled taut, but I couldn’t spare it even a moment when the venefica lunged.
I’d thought often of how I would die. If I would succumb to a simple illness like my mother and grandmère, or perhaps at the hands of the Covenant. Never once had I thought it would be like this: torn apart and eaten alive by a group of nightmarish monsters on the ramparts. I could only hope the Vyenurs were close and that I could hold my own until they arrived. But even the idea was laughable. A single creature, yes, but a whole nest?
Another burst of magic sent the closest one staggering and I grit my teeth, sliced up as I had with the first, found my mark and jerked my hand. A shriek echoed off the stone and it took me a moment to realize it had been me as one of those claws sliced across my thigh, tearing skirt and skin in the process.
A flash of white caught the corner of my eye as I stumbled. Pincers clicked but the sound was lost beneath the roar slicing through the night. Silver glimmered in the dark but I had no more time to watch as I jumped out of the path of the next creature, missing my target as the blade glanced off its shoulder.
“Lilith!”a voice roared.
I thought it would have been Noah. But it was Callum who appeared, catching the monster before me with the handle of his silver walking stick and thrust forward, severing its head from its body. Claws skittered across the stone and I turned, pressing my back to his, and sent my dagger upward as the next venefica lunged. I groaned at itsweight when I pushed it away, my magic depleting and taking my energy with it.
Only two venefica remained and both were focused on Callum. I shifted, taking one’s attention as I ran toward the rampart. It rumbled through its pincers and my stomach swooped when it leapt. But I focused, my mind singularly intent, and it was too easy to find my mark and send it careening off the wall and into the night.
The silence of the dark was deafening as the last monster fell. I panted, holding onto the wall for support as pain screamed through my leg. Callum stood frozen a few paces away, staring at me with wide, frightened eyes. Black blood was splashed across his cheek, hair free and wild around his face, blowing in the wind. His usual finery was gone—he was clad in a black shirt with the laces undone and tucked into simple black trousers, silver walking stick coated in venefica blood and clenched in his white-knuckled grip.
Perhaps I said his name. But the beating of my heart was still painful, in sync with the rhythm of the vampire whose blood I’d ingested. His deadly cane clattered to the stones beneath our feet. I took one trembling step forward, but he was so much faster than me. In the next breath I was in his arms, his fingers bracketing my chin, eyes silver in the moonlight that painted his cheekbones.
Callum’s mouth covered mine and I found I could no longer feel the pain.
Chapter 12
His lips were cold.
And yet they seared straight into my soul.
