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I nodded, taking the weapons. Well-made, royal equipment. Though not as familiar as I’d have liked, I knew it would shoot straight. I straddled the bike behind Camina, hitching my dress up to my thighs, and leaned back to make room for the bow. The citadel wasn’t designed for vehicles, but the main streets were wide enough and thankfully free of pedestrians. The motorcycle wasn’t as quiet as the hoverbikes, however, and drew attention.
Arrows followed behind us, until I took out the three archers near the gates. We roared past the center, and the café where I’d once sat with Penelope, the glass now broken and tables overturned. Camina swerved suddenly as a massive slagpaw bounded on our left and took a swipe at us. I put an arrow in its eye but it didn’t slow down.
“Hang on,” Camina shouted, pulling off the road and through an orchard, swerving between the low, scraping branches. A lone figure stopped in front of us, his blade gleaming. An elite, wearing a long hooded cape, mirrored goggles and gloves, steaming in the faded light of sunset. Garth gave us a nod and tightened his grip as we flew past, then sliced straight through the slagpaw chasing us.
A minute later, two more were on our tail.
“This is so not a good plan.”
“Em, up ahead!” Camina shouted over her shoulder.
A barricade of barbed wire and wood crossed the main road, blocked by a few dozen guards. I shot two in the head, creating a path, but we were still going too fast.
“When I say jump, jump!” Camina yelled.
“What?”
“Now!”
Camina rammed the bike into the barricade, where it flipped and took out a handful of guards. We were thrown into the air, but since I’d had warning, I managed to control my jump, using the momentum to leap over the guards and take a few more shots before rolling to a stop behind them.
The cuts and scrapes on my thighs and shoulders began healing immediately, and I raced up the steps, ducking around more guards. For a moment, I was surrounded, with sharp sword tips aimed at my neck from every direction, but the slagpaw followed us through the barricade and attacked the guards. I ducked to the ground as a razor-sharp claw cut two of them in half, rolling out of harm’s way.
It was so much louder here, with gunfire and shouting and the sharp sound of metal on metal. My heart was pounding a weird cocktail, of the catalyst in my blood and Damien’s elixir.
I spun as heavy footsteps alerted me to a pair of brutes behind me with long flat swords. I dodged when the first one struck, smashing the marble of the courtyard. I glared up at his mutid, barely-human face and bulging muscles. Big bodies, small brains. I’d killed two brutes before. It wasn’t that hard, but my memory was fuzzy by that point. I was all rage and elixir, practically frothing at the mouth.
He was at least twice as tall as me, but he was in my way. I ran up his weapon like a ramp just as he was raising it to strike again. I kicked it out of his fist, then reached for the handle and swung it like a guillotine, cutting off his leg. The other weapons felt unsatisfying, sharp and precise like needles. But too contained. This sword matched my mood, spraying great splashes of blood. I swung it around me, until I made a clearing and ran to Camina’s side. The other brute was tackled by a slagpaw, and they rolled down the steps flattening the soldiers pursuing us from below.
“Hurry!” I said, grabbing Camina and shoving her up the steps. It was mayhem, with hyped-up soldiers fighting off the rebels and slagpaw. There were only a few dozen of us, but the chaos worked in our favor. An elite was thrown out a window, bursting into flames before running and climbing up the wall, attempting to escape—only to be snatched up by a slagpaw near the gates. A steaming, crunchy snack. It turned my stomach, thinking of Jazmine.
We were nearly to the top of the stairs when the light changed. The palace was so large, looming above us, that it blocked out the light entirely. We’d stepped into a wide swath of shadow, as the sun set behind the great marble dome, rimmed with gold-studded towers. I blinked and suddenly our path was blocked again, by five elite in white masks. Nigel’s personal guard. Another twenty guards, and three more brutes, filled in the space behind them.
“We’re outnumbered,” I said.
“Not by much,” Augustine said, appearing with Tate at my side. A second later, Garth appeared, followed by his handful of rebels in guard uniforms.
I was about to attack when beams of light cut through the air like white lasers, targeting the vampire menace in front of us. The elite flinched in surprise as their skin melted, glancing at the distant walls of the citadel. Rebels had climbed ladders, holding up spears tipped with mirrors, to reflect the last rays of the sun and direct it as a weapon. Less than a heartbeat later, a volley of shots pounded like thunder and each of the elite’s heads snapped to the side as a bullet found them.
The three elite behind me darted forward, severing their heads just in case. I shot one through the heart with an arrow before his knees hit the ground.
“What the hell was that?” Tate asked.
“Iklebot,” Camina said grimly.
“Glad they’re on our side,” Augustine mumbled, eyeing the ramparts warily. “I’d rather not receive a bullet to the brain for my troubles.”
“Glad you could make it,” I said. “But this won’t be the last of them. There will be more.”
“Then I’d better feed,” Tate said. She grabbed one of the fallen guards, biting deeply into his neck with a bloody smirk that revealed her fangs.
I nodded at Garth as he stepped forward, pulling back his hood. His skin was red and charred in some places. He’d risked his life to protect us.
“Where’s Damien?” he asked.
“He’s… sitting this one out.”
He frowned but nodded.
