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The Immortal had arrived.
ROANE
Lucas was stuck, literally.
She froze him in place and all he could do was wait. No matter how much force he tried to break through her invisible boundary, he couldn’t. And he was cloaked, but if he did break free, he’d figure a way around being invisible. Another day, another time Davy would’ve been laughing with glee. She would’ve loved being invisible. All the pranks she could’ve pulled on everyone, even her human friends that annoyed her. She really loved torturing them.
He started to grin, imagining it. Then, he was brought back to reality with a resounding crash. There was no Davy and there soon wouldn’t be if he didn’t do something about it. She said he could break her free. He had to try, but his Hunters’ tattoo burned at that moment. It had been burning more and more since the battle. The Immortal said it was because the Hunters were nearby, but it was a lie. They kicked him out and turned off his connection to their power. The tattoo was alive because of her. That was the only reason that made sense, but it was scalding him now.
He tipped his head back and a roar erupted from him. The pain was blinding, even to him. He glanced around, but there was no Immortal. She wasn’t there, so what was happening?
Then, he heard, “Lucas Roane of the Roane bloodline.” A deep and bellowing voice spoke from behind him. He turned around, but there wasn’t one person. There were a dozen or more.
Shock had him speechless. He got over that real fast, though and scowled. “Blackstock.”
Blackstock was the elder of the Hunters’ line. He vowed to protect humans from vampires. It was the terms for why the slayers were discontinued. Too many slayers went rogue, and the Hunters were created. He was old, even for being a vampire, and he had gray hair. Not many vampires had gray hair. It spoke to his eternity. He was close to the end that he chose. Gray hair appeared only when a vampire wanted to die.
He folded his hands together. “You’ve been feeling your connection again?”
He meant the Hunter tattoo. Roane continued to scowl. “I’m guessing that’s why you can see me.”
“It is. We activated your connection when we learned of your new mission.”
“My mission?” Roane clipped out. “You wanted me to kill Davy.”
“We had good reason for your order. She is too powerful now.”
“I know.”
“This is what we feared. A creature too great to exist on our plane.”
Lucas groaned. He used to be more professional, but that was when he had been regarded as their best Hunter, before they told him to kill the woman he loved. Since then, since going rogue, he wasn’t feeling any inclination to be polite. “Tell me something I don’t know.” He shot Blackstock a dark look. “Tell me something that’s useful.” He punched at the invisible wall holding him in place. “Get me out of here. That’d be useful!”
Blackstock frowned, but glanced over his shoulders. The other Hunters nodded. “We will try.”
“How?”
“We will give you all of our power.”
Roane was stunned. That much power . . . he looked at all of them. There were sixteen Hunters standing there and no one was blinking an eye. There was no hesitation. All were ready, merely staring back at him, and waiting for when it was time.
He said, “This is why you came, isn’t it?”
Blackstock nodded. “We had to know wh
at side you were on so we came. We waited. We watched and now, we know. It is time.”
“I . . .” He had no words. “You will die.”
“It is worth dying for. The Immortal cannot be allowed to live. You must kill her.”
“But—”
“There is no time, Lucas of the Roane Bloodline. There is only one more who was created to hold the thread. The Immortal is looking for the child now. She will kill her, and when that happens, there is no more hope.” He raised his hands up. It was the signal. All the Hunters placed their hands on the shoulder of the Hunter before them. The two behind Blackstock both touched his shoulders. They were all physically connected and at the last touch, Lucas doubled over again. His tattoo was a line of fire. It was burning, singeing the air, and the pain was slicing through him. It felt like his tattoo was trying to pull him apart.
There was no more time wasted. Blackstock immediately began chanting, and as he kept going, one by one the Hunters began to fall to the ground. It was the last line. They started on the left and went to the right. One down. Two. Three. Four. Then, five, six, seven. Lucas couldn’t do anything except watch and count them. Eight. Nine. Ten . . . Six left. They had gotten to the second line of Hunters behind Blackstock. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen.
It was the last two behind Blackstock.
