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My palms curled against the path, feeling the sharp stones prick my skin, and I let one slide inside my grasp. Putting my weight on my good leg, I clumsily stood and limped to the center of the unpaved road, setting my sights on the horizon and the darkness beyond. I meticulously unlaced my glove, loosening the ties then letting it slip off my forearm and fall to the earth with a small sound. My breath slowed, soothing the storm inside me to focus on my next fight.
The night needed to pay for what it took. A debt demanded to be waged, and the balance of light and dark required to be righted. I lifted the jagged end of the rock to my wrist and dragged it across the translucent skin covering pulsating blue veins, but I barely winced at the sting, barely felt anything besides the hunger in my chest. My arm drifted to the side of my body, hanging in the air and letting the blood condense into a heavy drop. I watched as it lingered, quivering as it collected at the bottom of my wrist in a faithful promise before finally falling to coat the stones at my feet. I peered longingly once more into the edge of the night, and with a sharp cry in the distance, I began to collect my payment.
Skeletons of white ash trees lined the road. As I waited for the vampyre to find me, I broke off a low hanging branch and held it proudly like it was a double-edged sword, like it was his sword. Whether it was made of steel or dried wood, it mattered not, for I would wield it like the blade I had held just days before. The only thing that made my tool a weapon was the perception in my mind, and today, this branch would be deadlier than even the most perfectly aimed arrow.
The pebbles beneath my feet rattled against each other, as if chattering fearfully to each other about the monster approaching swiftly in the distance. Nervous excitement built in my chest, covering my pain and devouring my sorrow as I set all my attention on the beast appearing before me. I put a small amount of weight on my left foot, testing my ankle and balancing my weight in anticipation to lunge, and it responded with a defiant stab through my shin. I flinched at the ache but maintained my stance.
This was going to hurt, that much I knew, and my brain prepared for it by raising the threshold of my tolerance. At this point, I was numb. Numb to grief, numb to pain, numb to anything not giving rise to the vengeance in my spirit and feeding its purpose.
The vampyre came into view moments after I sliced my wrist and called it forth. The practiced predator leapt on all fours as it lunged, throwing dust and rocks behind it in its hungry pursuit for blood, the queen’s blood, its maker’s blood—my blood. My grip around the branch squeezed as it came closer, and I crouched in preparation to react. Tonight, the hunter was going to become the hunted. I was no longer the prey—I was the huntress.
It wailed a terrible cry as it charged me, desiring nothing more than to pluck me off the ground with its claws of agonizing accuracy and tear into my flesh. The sharp sound shook something inside my chest, shaking my very core and unnerving the material of my soul.
Just before it reached my position in the road, I spun hard on my good leg, moving swiftly to the side of the path and narrowly skimming the beast with my shoulder. The vampyre dove past, sending its foul stench on the rush of air trailing behind it and tempting a gag with its scent. The broken branch spun with me, finding the backside of the beast as it split the air to make its mark and sliced through its flesh like a knife through warm butter. The cut was deep, but not fatal. Judging by the high-pitched howl that met my ears, I had done a fine job pissing it off.
It screeched to a halt, sending dirt and stone flying after sensing it had missed its target. It reared its ugly head in my direction, while a thick, dark liquid spewed from the wound on its back and dripped along its dreadful, twisted body. I knelt to pick up another sharp rock, this one much larger, and rubbed it along the cut on my wrist to soak the surface with my blood. Planning to use the same diverting technique as the last vamp, I hurled the heavy stone at its face. The stone knocked it hard in the place its eye should have been, stunning the creature with the weight of the surprise blow. It wailed another surprised shriek, followed by a furious hiss, making my jaw clench.
My wrist was bleeding profusely now, spraying the stones beneath me as I dangled my hand above them. I wanted to create a crimson arena with my blood, a ring of death that would ensnare this creature within the boundaries created by my flesh. While the monster was distracted by the stone, I stepped in stealthy silence to the side, letting my blood pour from the wound and drip a thin line along the path.
I did this quickly, knowing the creature would cease to dig for the bloody rock once it grew impatient. Occasionally, I was forced to pierce the point of the branch into the cut to reopen the blood gates and keep a consistent flow pouring out. I limped every step, my simple sprained ankle a multitude of hideous colors from running on the injury. But the adrenaline dissolved the pain for now. It brined my misery with the salt from my tears and thawed the icy despair that slowed me down.
The vampyre started to whirl as I came to a half circle, close to completing my goal, but not close enough for it to matter if I failed. The beast clicked, making the same snapping sound in its throat when it tried to smell out its prey, while I continued to confuse its senses with the distribution of my blood. It thrashed its claws at my ghost in the semi-ring, desperately searching for me in the darkness of its mind. But I crouched low, taking every step with great caution. If I made a mistake here, the entire plan would be for naught.
The last drop of blood fell, completing the red ring and imprisoning the vampyre in its uncontrollable desire for flesh. It clicked, thrashing its head frantically in every direction to find the original source. But I was everywhere to this creature now. I surrounded him in a circle of lustful longing, and I swore the creature shrank in size, understanding I was no longer his, because he was now mine. I stepped into the ring, armed with nothing but a broken branch and the sharp fragments of my shattered heart. It could no longer smell me or taste me in the air, only hear me. I had the advantage in every way that mattered now.
A growl rose in my chest, savage and strange in my throat. The vampyre slowly turned its head to the sound, the dark depths of his eye sockets chilling me again with their emptiness. I’d never get used to this face, this picture of pure evil barren of humanity and goodness. It hissed back at me, matching the ferocity and bloodlust in my own battle cry. The circle was small, only large enough for us both to stand on either end with barely a few strides between us. I lifted my branch, placing both hands around its base like I was holding a great sword, because in my mind, I was. I took one step forward and the beast before me lunged.
It leapt through the air, crossing the circle in one pounce. But I reacted by charging and dropped to my knees, using the momentum to slide on my shins underneath its lunging figure. I lifted the pointed end of the branch, letting it slice the creature’s belly from top to bottom as it dove above me. Inky blood poured from the opening and leaked across my shoulder. As its front claws hit the dirt, it whined in agony, and the sound of suffering echoed across the quiet night.
It spun and faced me, claws wide. It reacted before I could settle my weight on my feet, thrashing a long arm in my direction. I ducked, missing its graze, but wasn’t quite as lucky with the second swipe. But the vamp was fast, so fast the second blow was coming before I even recovered from the first.
I had been shot many times before, sliced open enough times I hardly felt being stitched back up again. The brutes that trained us were merciless, almost as viscous as the night demons themselves, but nothing in my training had prepared me for this. Its claws found me at last, digging their way into my side and tossing me in the direction of its push. I flew off the ground, landing hard some feet away, thrown shoulder over shoulder from the force of the blow. My body came to a rolling halt just outside the blood line, unable to process anything besides the searing pain in my left side.
I reached a hand around, feeling the curve of my stomach and felt holes in my side. Not the slices from steel I was used to, nor the small puncture of an arrow that frequently dug into my skin. These were gaping holes large enough to stick my fingers through, and bleeding quicker than my feeble hand could slow. My blood flowed from the wounds, smeared across my leathers, and slicked the hand holding my side. But the offending creature wasn’t done with me yet. Sharp clicking ticked from the direction I'd been thrown from.
My head fell to the side to look at the creature. Its body faced me, crouched low in a predatorial stance, ready to lunge and finish me off. There was so much blood covering me now, it made me a obvious target. I gritted my teeth and turned, dizziness setting in from the rapid blood loss. Despite the protest in my side and in my ankle, I slowly stood to face the monster one last time.
I plucked the broken branch from the pebbled earth where I’d dropped it during the fall. One hand grasped the wooden weapon, the other clutched my side. I limped back into the circle, back into the arena, feeling my head grow faint and my steps become uncertain. The branch swung clumsily, taunting the vampyre, wishing it would try to finish me. I dared it to come closer so I could finish this at last. This wound on my side was lethal, but I accepted my fate with a grateful heart.
I’d lived inside a granite kingdom for twenty years, but the past week had been the most life I ever lived. Not only did I get to see the world, but I got to experience everything it had to offer. I found danger in the darkness, secrets in a citadel, friendship in a floating city, identity among the cresting waves, and love in star-filled night. I knew what it was like to try and fail, to love and lose, to be broken and pieced together again, and through it all, I discovered my worth. I was so thankful I never ran back to the mountain, because I would have never met the person inside me if I hadn’t taken the risk. I knew pain, I’d experienced tragedy, and I’d loved beyond the definition of the word. I had nothing more to gain and everything to lose—that’s how I knew I’d lived this life to the fullest. I had something worth losing, something worth fighting for.
And for the first time, I feared death because life was worth having.
The demon lurched a final time, and the last thing I knew was the chasm inside its jaws, the deafening shriek of its call, and the smell of rotten skin and decayed flesh.
It was dark. I choked against the combination of the foul smell and a heavy weight on my chest. My eyes fluttered open, but blackness surrounded me, a blackness matching the backs of my eyelids. My hands were still wrapped around the branch, currently thrusting from the center of my chest and into the beast. I squirmed under the weight smothering me, feeling the carcass of the vampyre still heavy against my frame.
It had lunged at me, but somehow, during his attack, it had fallen on my makeshift blade.I killed it.I’d actually killed a vampyre single-handedly. No watcher required to help with their fancy magic, just a severely pissed off mortal with a vendetta to complete. I felt powerful, I felt strong, I felt…squished.
I pushed my hands from the base of the branch and against its chest, shoving the beast’s corpse off my body and flipping it over in the gravel next to me. Sharp, shooting pains erupted from my side with the movement, and I was instantly reminded of my fatal wound and the impending calamity of my death. A small, gasping cry tore from my lips, whispering a final goodbye to the world and a life well earned.
The breath in my chest spasmed as the end grew closer. The excitement from the fight waned, leaving my extremities cold and my heartbeat thumping slower. At least I was out in the open for Roman to find me. Hopefully, he would discover my corpse before the queen’s soldiers did. But that was out of my hands now. I’d completed my mission; I’d played my part in this fight. Now it was time to rest and let someone else take the baton and finish the race.
My vision tunneled, the darkness closing in. How peaceful it was, to die here, staring up at the double moons and picturing myself sitting with Azriel in the curve of the crescent. He was here even now, high above me, his wings restored and beating the wind lightly to lower himself to my spot. His figure darkened against the light of the moon, but I still saw his arms reaching down for me, coming now to take me from this dark world and carry me home. My mouth twitched into a small grin as he called my name, and I let his voice soothe me into eternal slumber.
16
I awokein a warm bed next to a roaring fire. Little filled my memory between the time I’d closed my eyes and when I opened them again. I remembered flashes of lights, blurred images with strange voices, and hands. Hands always touching me, running their rough palms across my bare skin and tossing my body in every direction. I was a part of reality for a few fleeting moments before being pulled back into a dreamless sleep, unable to stay awake for any period of time, unable to react to the lights, the voices, or the hands.
