That led into utter chaos.
The smell of brimstone and hellfire filled the air, and already the floor was slick with blood and ash. In her peripheral vision, Charley caught sight of one of the wolves charging at a gray, another taking down a demon. In his wolf form, Cole was glued to Isabelle’s side, protecting her from would-be attackers as she struggled to manage both demons and witches.
Charley’s heart sank. They were outnumbered ten to one.
“Hide!” Dorian shouted, touching her face once more, and then he was gone, blurring into the battle with his brothers.
Charley grabbed Sasha and blurred her beneath the bar, just as the front doors exploded inward, ushering in a late arrival that nevertheless brought a smile to her face.
“Good afternoon,comrades.”
For a brief instant, the club fell silent as Rogozin strolled in, three dozen demons pouring in from behind him.
“So many pieces of shit before my eyes,” he said. “Who is good guy, who is bad guy?” Rogozin laughed. “Well, how about we burn them all first, ask questions later, yes?”
There was no more talking after that. No more grand declarations, no more jokes.
Only bloodshed. Only fire. Only violence.
The demons were impossible to tell apart—outside of Rogozin and the men she’d met at the hotel in Long Island City, Charley had no idea who was who, which side was which.
She tried in vain to keep track of her vampire, but even that was an impossible task.
It seemed as if they’d fought for days—a great clashing of fangs and fists, hellfire and wolf bites, the blur of the vampires, the blood. So much blood she thought it might wash them all away.
There was nothing she could do in a fight like this—she didn’t have the strength and coordination to take on so many adversaries at once. She would only get in the way.
On the drive down from Annendale-on-Hudson, Isabelle had given Charley the tattoos that would allow her to tolerate the sunlight—for a little while, at least. At the time, Charley wasn’t sure why she’d needed them so urgently, but now she was grateful the witch had insisted.
It was going to be a long night, and there was nothing Charley could do but wait it out.
So there beneath the bar, she held Sasha close, singing a soft lullaby her father used to sing, rocking her as the glass and blood and ash rained down all around them, and deep in her heart, Charley prayed she and her loved ones wouldlastlong enough to see the sun again.
* * *
“By proclamation of the royal family and the Shadow Accords, Bloodbath is now property of House Redthorne,” Gabriel announced, although the Duchanes vampires who most needed to hear it were no more than ash beneath their shoes.
Charley knew it was probably just a formality, but she figured she ought to pay attention anyway.
She’d have to learn the ropes sooner or later.
She was one of them now. A Redthorne vampire.
The thought still filled her with awe.
Even the Rogozin demons were showing respect, heads bowed, hands clasped before them.
They’d kept their word and come through for Dorian, and now, thanks in large part to them, the battle was over.
They’d won.
Sasha was safe.
And her friends had survived.
Standing beside his brother, Dorian caught her gaze, giving her a quick, reassuring wink that filled her with warmth.
Soon, they’d be home, and all of this would be a memory.
