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With deep satisfaction, I bury my katana in Rattie’s neck.
He makes a gargling sound.
I don’t bother trying to figure out what he’s attempting to say. Ripping the katana out, I slice his head clean off.
As life leaves Rattie’s body, a shockwave hits me, like the aftermath of a massive explosion. It’s raw dream manipulation energy—and it twists everything around me, threatening to tear apart the very fabric of this world.
Only it doesn’t.
Instead, it forces me awake.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
I wake up to a gnawing pain in my stomach and an irregular heartbeat in my chest.
Puck. The virus is progressing.
Then again, there’s great news. Thanks to my newfound REM detection sense, I can feel that both Rowan and Valerian are still alive and asleep, no doubt dealing with Koshmar-induced nightmares.
Gathering my strength, I open my eyes, sit up, and take in as much information as possible in the span of a few eyeblinks.
Despite Rattie’s dire predictions, Percival hasn’t defeated Fabian. At least not yet. They’re fighting so preternaturally fast it’s hard to follow what’s happening. The vampire moves with a savage brutality, while the wolf is graceful, with copious hopping from paw to paw in the dance that is his martial art.
Felix and Ariel are back to back. He’s beating up a vampire with his suit’s four arms, while she’s slashing a different vampire with the gate sword. Judging by the pile of severed vampire body parts near them, things are going well there.
Itzel and Dylan, likewise back to back just a leap away from me, are also holding their own.
Itzel throws a ball of lightning at a vampire who tries to grab her. Her attacker flies back almost to where I sit, lands on his head, and doesn’t get up. Great result, but I can see Itzel is weakened by the use of that power.
At the same time, Dylan is waving Stanislav’s saber wildly, and without any technique. The freshly made vampires attacking her don’t seem to realize that the saber isn’t all that dangerous in Dylan’s hands and are keeping out of the thing’s reach. At least, for now.
My gaze falls on Valerian and Rowan’s unmoving bodies.
I need to wake them, starting with Rowan. If she takes over the vampires again, our problems will be—
A vampire leaps at Itzel again. She shoots a ball of lightning at him. The vampire flies back, landing next to me. His leg is clearly broken, with bone sticking out, but he doesn’t pass out like the guy who landed on his head. Instead, he locks eyes with me—and I see the thirst gleaming in his bloodshot orbs.
Puck.
I frantically pat the ground for my katana.
The vampire crawls toward me, fangs out.
My hand lands on the hilt. I grab it, leap to my feet, and swing.
My attacker’s head separates from his body, and the world spins around me as if it were my head rolling on the ground.
Must be weakness from the pucking virus.
Another vampire lunges at Itzel. She gets this one smack in the face with the lightning ball—only to fall to the ground herself, unconscious from power overuse.
The vampire she blasted flies toward me.
I sidestep and slice with my katana, beheading him mid-flight.
The vampire is no more, but my wooziness worsens.
I pull myself together as best I can. With Itzel on the floor, Dylan’s back is exposed, and she doesn’t seem to realize this.
“Dylan, behind you!” I yell hoarsely.
But my warning is too late. A female vampire grabs Dylan’s saber hand from behind and twists, causing the blade to fall. She then covers Dylan’s nose and mouth with her hand, blocking her airflow.
Staring at us with wild eyes, the vampire hisses, “If you don’t put down your weapons, she’s dead.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Neither Ariel nor Felix put their weapons down, and Fabian doesn’t stop fighting Percival—not that he’s got weapons besides his claws.
The vampires who were circling around Dylan spin around and leap at me.
I tighten my grip on the katana. If I put it down as the hostage taker demanded, we’ll all get killed anyway. As is, Dylan should have a minute or two before she suffocates. I need to dispatch the group of vampires rushing at me and wake up Rowan before that happens.
I don’t let myself dwell on the alternative. Because if Dylan doesn’t survive, any chance of getting the cure in time is out the window. Even if we beat the vampires, Valerian and I will perish from the virus.
The first vampire lunges at me but stays out of the reach of my katana.
“Coward,” I mouth and go on the offensive.
The gash I slice across his torso would fell a man, but this is a freaking vampire, so he keeps on coming—and is joined by two others moments later.
Being outnumbered generates enough adrenaline to make my wooziness subside, and I cleave the wrist of the next vampire who tries to get me, then behead the next.
