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“Human blood tastes quite good.” She hissed and bared her fangs a little more.
Gerrod, can you see me yet?
No.
She took another step, then another, each putting her closer to the wraith. A couple more feet and she would reach a pool of light cast by the distant floodlights which was also in line with Gerrod’s shield.
“Why don’t you battle those who have weapons?” Abigail called out, hoping to distract the wraith into a conversation. “Or are you just a coward, like all of your kind?”
The wraith’s clothing stilled and she advanced forward, as Abigail advanced. Abigail put her foot in the beam of light, then brought the other one forward, the troll still hidden in the skirts of her gown, but he wept against her leg. He’d seen the wraith and he could hear her hiss.
“Foolish human. I won’t just take your blood. I’ll tear each of your limbs off just for the pleasure of it.”
She launched, but at the same time, Gerrod’s voice streaked through her head. I’ve got you. His power shield slipped between them and the wraith collided into that shield, as though she’d struck a brick wall.
Abigail heard a terrible crunching sound, the wraith’s eyes rolled, then she plummeted to the ground falling hard. She didn’t move.
Stay where you are. You will be safe.
She dropped to the ground and drew the boy onto her lap, holding him close. Gerrod’s power wrapped around them. She could see him now. He moved like lightning in the distance, well above the ground as he made use of his levitation power. Pulsing lights flashed from his arms, hands and shoulders in powerful streaks. Each time, a wraith screeched and fell, or one of the Invictus realm-folk cried out in pain then toppled over. The wraiths still fighting sent repeated red streaks of energy toward Gerrod. Each one hit his shield which protected him, but even she could see that his shield had holes in it here and there.
The flash of lights grew quicker.
Then suddenly, another Guard appeared, dropping from high in the sky, to levitate beside Gerrod. The lights flashed faster now and within another minute, the last of the Invictus lay on the ground.
Abigail rose, helping the boy to slide off her lap. She could hear a woman screaming in the distance, calling for ‘Petrus’.
“That’s my mama.”
He pulled against Abigail’s hand, but she didn’t let him go. Instead, she began to run in the direction of the castle with him. But one last glance in Gerrod’s direction revealed that all of the Invictus pairs lay dead in front of the ruined wedding cake.
*** *** ***
Gerrod was breathing hard and so damn weak. He had used up a tremendous amount of energy. He’d never seen so many wraith-pairs before and all well-armed. As his shield had weakened, he’d gotten nicked a couple of times, nothing serious but he was damn glad Jason had shown up when he did.
He glanced behind him and saw Abigail running with her hand clasped around a troll boy’s hand. Until that moment the reality of her plight hadn’t sunk in. Sweet Goddess she could have been killed.
He brought his power shield back toward him, reabsorbing as much of the energy as possible.
Jason sat down on the ground to catch his breath. Gerrod knew he had pushed hard to get here. They had both used up some serious reserves.
Jason looked up at him and pushed his light brown hair off his face. He wiped sweat from his forehead with the woven sleeve of his shirt. “That was f**king close, wasn’t it?”
Gerrod nodded. “Very. There were forty in all.”
“Sweet Goddess. What has happened? How have the Invictus grown in such numbers? Someone must have charge of them. I’ve never known these pairs to join together like this.”
“I know. I have thought the very same thing.” Gerrod swallowed hard. His left hand trembled, a sure sign that his blood-starvation was reaching a critical point. He should have summoned one of his doneuses to stabilize him long before tonight, but he hated to disturb the women. Each of his three donors were married to good men. The act seemed disloyal and he despised having to ask.
Though it wouldn’t have mattered. He could have had a dozen doneuses, as some of his fellow mastyr vampires did, but he would still suffer from starvation. It was the curse of his ‘mastyr’ status. Though he, like all mastyr vampires, had tried a hundred remedies, the starvation remained. Although, with so few doneuses, he tended to reach dangerous levels much more often than those mastyrs with larger blood-harems.
The rest of the Guard began arriving, which helped his spirits since he had no doubt that once the notables in attendance at the wedding reached his entrance hall, cell-phones would light up alerting the media to the attack. It was only a matter of time before the TV station vans and reporters arrived.
The headlines the next day would be terrible, no doubt, but he thought it the wiser course to let the populace know that the Invictus had become active again. Parents would take extra precautions, neighborhood watches would be on guard again, and all volunteer policing units would gather with city entities to organize for increased patrols.
In the meantime, clean-up was critical. Each of the Invictus would have to be hauled to a morgue, families of any of those realm-folk who had paired with a wraith would have to be notified of the death. None of it was an easy task.
Gerrod issued his orders. And as Jason nodded then returned to the battlefield to begin the horrific disposal process, Gerrod headed to the castle to confer with those governing officials who had been present at the wedding. Each would of course have a great deal to say about how the governance of Merhaine ought to be conducted.
He repressed a sigh as the weight of rule descended heavily on his shoulders once more. Another tremor vibrated through his left hand and he made a fist then released it a number of times. He really didn’t want a group of Merhaine dignitaries to observe him in this weakened state.
But as he walked up the broad front path to the castle, his thoughts turned to Abigail. His heart seemed to lumber in his chest. An image flashed through his mind of his fangs buried in her neck. Whatever the reason, more than life itself he wanted to know what her blood tasted like, if it would carry the flavor of rosemary, the scent that seemed to be attached to her always.
Yes, in the year he’d known her, he’d come very close to obsessing about the damn human.
*** *** ***
An hour later, Abigail frowned as Gerrod marched away from her.
He had said very little to her except to insist she return to Flagstaff and not to come back because Merhaine was no place for a human.
