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All three men are fighting with everything they’ve got. North has his daggers out, and I suspect they’re silver, because when he hits a vampire with them, the vampire hisses and smoke comes off the vampire’s skin from the cut. Typical of Donovan to have selected six guards who are all vampires the way that he is. He must’ve done that because he knows he can trust them the most. Or maybe this is how he communicated with them, psychically through some vampire blood connection.
I don’t know, I’m just spit balling, I don’t know enough about vampires.
Donovan himself is nowhere in sight, the cowardly bastard. My hatred for him continues to boil and if I didn’t have to deal with Roanac, I would be going after him myself. I’d find a way to kill him as viciously as possible. He betrayed us and now I’m terrified that my dreams will come true, and I’ll be alone, the men killed by these fucking vampires and Roanac all because of one spineless little shit.
I can’t go after him, damn it. I’ll have to save that revenge for later.
Raven sends his vampire, formerly my vampire, flying back into his compatriot and the two vampires scuttle back, baring their fangs at Raven. Raven bares his own fangs right back at them. He’s transformed, almost a full gargoyle except that he can still move, his wings creating a small whirlwind in this chamber as they beat in the air, causing the papers and maps on Roanac’s desk to go flying.
Cain’s moving fast and furiously, whipping through the air as he leaps and dodges, keeping the vampires on their toes. He’s fighting bare-handed, as are the two vampires, the three of them duking it out based on their natural abilities alone.
My instinct is to help my men, since all three of them are now two against one, but I have to stay focused.
I turn and lunge for Roanac, whipping my dagger out from where I’d concealed it in my shirt. There was the assumption from Roanac, just like last time, that Donovan had checked us all for weapons, because, well, last time Donovan had. So at least I’ve got this.
I feint and dodge, knowing that he’s fast enough to predict and parry my first attempt to get him, and my feint seems to work. I raise the dagger up—I’m going to get him for this, I’m going to kill him—but then Roanac grabs me by the hair.
He yanks me back, and I have a moment to wish that I had cut my hair or tied it up better out of the way or something. Ithurts, and it completely ruins my trajectory as he steps to the side. Fuck. There goes my chance.
“Kiara!” Cain yells.
Roanac snarls and yanks me to the side, toward the wall, and I’m sure that I’m going to slam into it. I brace myself,chantingshit, shit, shiton repeat in my head.
But instead of giving myself a massive concussion, I go right through it.
What the hell?
For a second, there’s just darkness, and then I feel my shoulder slam into an actual wall, but not from the direction I expect. It’s from the side.
Roanac steps in behind me, and I hear a shuddering noise, like stones moving, and then several clicks. The passageway in front of us lights up, revealing a tall, spiraling set of stairs.
Oh, fuck. A secret passage. It must’ve been open and just had the illusion of being the wall, but now, with that sound of stones moving—
Sure enough, I hear banging on the other side. “Kiara!” Raven roars. He’s trying to crash through.
The others will try to get through in a minute too. But they’re not burglars. Fuck. I have to trust that they’ll be able to get through quickly enough.
Trust. It’s ironic that this is what it keeps coming down to. Cain and I had our whole bang-it-out in the kitchen, but my stomach still turns cold and hard like a ball of ice. What if it’s not enough? What if they bang and they bang and they can’t get through, even with all of their strength?
I don’t really have a choice, now. I have to pray that they’ll get through.
Roanac yanks at my hair again, and I snarl instinctively. I twist around and kick up, spinning, aiming for his head. The heel of my boot glances off his jaw and Roanac growls, using his grip on my hair to try to flip me so that I’m on my back.
I keep moving with the flip, extending it until I’m on my feet again, and I jab low and to the side of his torso, aiming for his kidneys. Sure, it won’t hurt him that much but it could get him just enough so that he drops me.
Roanac grunts but doesn’t even flinch. I feel like I’m punching a pile of concrete and my knuckles throb. Fuck. He really is strong. I slice at him with my knife and manage to cut his cheek but Roanac punches me in the stomach, and I double over, pain flashing up my body. Fuck.
There’s no time for me to let myself feel the pain and work through it. I have to move, now.
I move forward to headbutt Roanac, which isn’t the most strategic or elegant fight move but it theoretically gets the job done, but Roanac uses his grip on my hair to yank my head back, giving me whiplash. As he does so I strike out with my knife again, and I’m able to land another hit, this time on his arm, but it doesn’t even cut. Damn it, he really is fucking indestructible except for that one spot.
Raven yells my name again, and I can hear crashing and snarling as the fight continues. The stones in the wall rattle and shake, dust falling down from the force of Raven trying to rip the door open. He’s strong, but he’s up against magic. Can he possibly reach me? And what about the vampires and shades?
Roanac tries to take the dagger from me, but I dodge and kick him in the balls. Nothing? Really? No reaction? Oh come on. Fuck, I have to get to his chest wound but there’s no way I can do it from the front like this. Hmm.
I grab his wrist with both hands and use it as leverage to flip myself up. If I can get onto his back and stab him from behind—
Fuck! No dice. Roanac grabs me by the shoulder and twists, slamming me into the wall.
