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Chapter Sixteen

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“Where are we going?”

Michael and I are sitting in my car, heading out of London. I have not said a word to him since I picked him up. Already he seems to regret having joined me, though I gave him little choice. With Jackston out there looking for him, and Amaddeaus and Dunstan looking for anyone to sink their fangs into, I could not possibly leave Michael here. I could not bear if something were to happen to him, or rather; I could not bear Mina’s face when finding out that her brother was killed. Mina, how are you now?

“Are we going to Mina?” he asks me when I do not answer his first question.

I do not answer this question either. Knowing what I have to do, I wonder if it is the right thing. Though Sarthimia has told me to come to her when I need help, I doubt that it includes bringing a human to the monastery, but I have to. There is no other sanctuary anymore, not with the Asylaum tainted by the blood of my Brethren. Besides, I am in dire need of Sarthimia’s help. Only she and her sisters have the power to stop the two rampaging Lords.

Funny, I would rather have seen myself executed than have Amaddeuas and Dunstan running about with claws, slaying anyone unfortunate enough to cross their path. I never thought that I would think like this. It is obvious that I have been spending too much time with humans these last few nights. Their frail humanity is rubbing off on me. Or maybe, maybe it is what Mina would have liked. I do not know. I prefer not thinking of her at the moment – she is distraction, a thorn in my mind. If we get through this I fear that I shall never be able to look at her the same again, not after what I have put her and her family through.

Michael throws me out of my thoughts with the sensitivity of a rock, yet I am grateful having been brought out of my depressing mind.

“Tell me where we’re going!”

“Away,” I reply shortly.

“Yeah, you’ve said that already,” he mutters to himself. “It would just be good to know what we’re running away from.”

I look at him. He is right – he has the right to know.

“ London,” I state.

By his reaction I doubt that he is pleased with my answer. He crosses his arms and glares at me – how typically teenager of him.

“The entire London, or perhaps a smaller part of it?” he sneers.

“A smaller part,” I agree with a faint smile.

He sniggers at my remark. Good, he has some sense of humour.

We spend some time in silence as I drive in the dark towards the monastery. I am not worried to get lost any longer, like I was the first time I headed out here. I have travelled these roads too many times in the last week that it would be impossible for me not to remember them. After fifteen minutes of silence, Michael decides to break the pattern. I am not grateful.

“Hey,” he begins, “I’m sorry that I attacked you at Brian’s. It’s just that—”

He stops to sigh and stare into the nothingness of the fields surrounding us. We have not even gotten to the trees yet. It is a long journey with the wrong company. When he has not continued after a minute I decide to conclude the conversation.

“I understand.”

This causes him to look away from the window and straight into my eyes. Impressive, few humans dare.

“I don’t think you do,” he says. “I don’t think you understand what it’s like having a father that is always away, or what it’s like having a sister that’s never around and always off at school only to come home to feed you.”

His voice is filled with sadness.

“And I don’t think you understand what it’s like to always feel alone, to constantly feel like no one cares for you, even though they are always there for you, according to themselves,” he continues agitatedly, building up his inner rage. “And then, when you don’t think it can get any worse, you show up, hung-over in dad’s bed with shredded clothes, only to leave without as much as a ‘thanks’ when you awake.”

I do not wish for an emotional teenage outburst, but the only way I know to stop it is by knocking him cold. I doubt that Mina would appreciate that, or her father, if his soul truly is resting in the blood inside of me.

“Only to days later discover that your home has been trashed and your sister is missing, and then having the guy responsible for everything knocking on your best friend’s door,” he still bursts in anger.

Moment later, all of his energy leaves him as his rage settles. He looks away from me and stares blankly into the dark fields once more.

“I don’t think you understand what it’s like having a family that’s as good as dead to you,” he finishes in a solemn whisper.

In the dark reflection of the window he is staring through I can see a tear running down his cheek. His mind is fleeing into blank nothingness.

“I do,” I state silently to his monologue.

He does not move a muscle at my reply. Maybe he did not hear me, maybe he did not care. It does not matter. Spending another good ten minutes in silence I am surprised when Michael begins to speak again.

“Look at that,” he says, pointing into an open field to our left, “that’s one weird animal.”

Focusing my eyes on the shadow dashing at an incredible speed across to field I gasp in shock, realising what I see. That is no animal, that is—

The car is shaking uncontrollably. Little at first, then harder and harder until there is no point in holding on to the wheel. It is as if we are caught in a hurricane.

“The power emanating from Lord Dunstan and Lord Amaddeuas was so intense that it tipped over three bookshelves in the Archives when the two turned.”

“Please, don’t. Don’t let it be—” I pray.

“What’s going on?” I hear Michael ejaculate in desperation.

I attempt to open the driver’s door to get out of this sudden death trap, but it is budged into the car. We are stuck. Without hesitation I pull the gun from my coat and try to focus as the world around us appears to be spinning faster and faster.

“Where did you get that?” Michael screams, gawking at the gun.

The car suddenly comes to a halt, and by doing so in mid-air, having been spun around in the small hurricane, it hits the ground hard – very hard. Predicting the crash, I have my hands ready to prevent my head from slamming into the dashboard – Michael does not. I watch helplessly as his head bounces against the dashboard before hanging unsettlingly relaxed on his shoulder. I do not hear anything snap but I am still worried. By checking his pulse I can tell that he is still alive, but I restrain myself from shaking him to wake up from his unconsciousness. He cannot have been far from snapping his neck. I would get him to a hospital, had I not been occupied with the ‘animal’ that I watch through the front window as it moves closer. Despite its long claws and blood covered face, I recognise it immediately – Amaddeuas. We have to get out of here.

Looking into my rear-view mirror, I see another acquaintance of mine – Dunstan. This is too much to be a coincidence. They must have followed us, waiting until we were alone, away from any possible aid – in the middle of nowhere. Damn. It looks as if they might get their execution anyway. I hear them hiss deeply even at this distance. The car is still trembling slightly in their presence; I suppose most of the vibrations from them were used in sending us flying. Ariane was right; they are incredibly powerful. What did this do them? I realise now that no disease could cause this, not to a Lord – not even to a common Reborn. Was Jackston telling the truth? Is the source hidden in every Brethren, waiting to be released like a monster in hibernation? If that is the case, we vampires are nothing but ticking bombs, waiting to unleash our inner monsters like the two Lords before me. If so; we do not deserve to live.

However, being alive does not appear to be my biggest problem at the moment. I should rather be concerned by the imminent death awaiting me in seconds. If my new theory is correct, then my two executioners will only do the world a favour by killing me, for there will then be one less monster bomb on Earth. But if I am killed, who will then deal with the two bombs that have already exploded? No, my time is yet to come. I am still needed. Death is something to be deserved – I am not worthy. The two blood-criers surrounding me are though.

“Pike,” Amaddeuas hisses and as he does I notice the windows in the car tremble.

Flattering – he remembers my name.

“Amaddeuas.”

Moments later I hear Dunstan crash through the rear window and into the car. Amaddeuas has placed himself on top of the hood, mocking my attempts to force the car open with a hissing grin. Michael is still knocked out and I would prefer not having to move him. Then again; I would prefer not being attacked by these two either. I hear Dunstan crawl over the backseats with great effort as I am kicking the door. He will be upon us in seconds. I have no choice – I have to get out of here, and I have to take Michael with me.

I pick up the gun I have placed in my lap while attempting to open the door. Watching Amaddeuas’ twisted grin be replaced by a stunned expression pleases me out mostly as I aim the gun at him and pull the trigger. The bullet shatters the front window and sends him flying off the hood, landing on the ground. It will not kill him; I would be surprised if it even hurt. Wasting not a moment, I grab Michael by his collar and throw the two of us through the only exit possible; the now open space I created by shooting through the window. I am worried as to how this affects Michael’s state, but getting him out of certain death seems a better choice than leaving him behind. As we land just outside of the car I notice that I was right about Amaddeuas – he is already about to stand up. I postpone his intentions by placing a well-aimed kick to his temple. He groans in pain and tries to shield himself with his claw-like fingers.

“Death,” he hisses loathingly.

“In due time,” I snap, picking up Michael from the ground.

Michael is slowly regaining consciousness. His eyes flicker and his breathing is returning to normal. Too bad that does not help us. We have to get out of here. I notice the smell of gasoline when adjusting Michael in my arms. The impact to the ground must have been too much to the car – the gasoline tank must be busted. I look at my gun, consider my possibilities and then look at Dunstan, struggling to get out of the tight car. Just thinking about what I am considering is a violation against the Guidance. Doing it would forever ban me from the Asylaum, but what other options are there? I raise my right arm while balancing Michael on my left. The barrel is pointing straight to the gasoline tank. Amaddeuas, who is back on his feet, has detected what I am about to do and shrieks in horror.

“No!”

Touching – even as monsters they care about each other. I pull the trigger and watch as the bullet spins through the air before making contact with the car. As it reaches the gasoline, the car instantly bursts into flames and blows several meters into the air, illuminating the prior dark and cold night. The explosion sends Amaddeuas on a great flight, crashing him into a tree quite a bit away. What becomes of Dunstan I cannot tell, but not even a Lord of his stature would be able to survive an explosion like that. Score one for me – I killed a Lord. Jackston would kill me for this, though I am certain that Jackston currently would like to kill me anyway. It therefore does not bother me. I am only bothered by the fact that I have broken my vow to the Guidance and not only slew a fellow Brethren, but a Lord at that. I am a man of my words and breaking a vow is below me. Still, I suppose it beats dying.

I am just about to finish of my second Lord when Michael awakes. He appears to be rather fine, considering the circumstances. Good – there is little I could do for him out here, if anything. Should he be fatally wounded I know that I would have to let him die. It is the way of life and I have no right to alter it, despite my feelings for him and his sister.

“W-what happened?” Michael asks in a weak whisper.

“Don’t speak,” I order him. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

I lean him towards a tree to rest before I turn around to find Amaddeuas— gone? Damn, this is not good. If Amaddeuas still lives, that means that I have only upset him by blowing Dunstan to pieces and hurting Amaddeuas while doing so. There is only one thing worse than a Lord gone blood-crying – an angry Lord gone blood-crying. Amaddeuas has not left for a cup of tea; he has left to gather his strength. And with his powers I gather that it will only be a matter of minutes before he is back. I hurry to Michael’s side.

“The gun— the car—those things,” he mutters incoherently.

He must have suffered a great blow to his head. Hopefully the effect is not permanent.

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Without a car and with Michael wounded there is no chance of outrunning Amaddeuas. I know this, and there is no point in denying it. We must find shelter so that I might find a solution to our predicament. However, being out in the middle of nowhere does not benefit us when searching for shelter. I should be lucky to find a rock or a log to hide behind. The trees alongside the road provide no cover whatsoever – I need something big. Like a cave, a mountain or perhaps a barn. It is then I spot it, on the far side of a field – a farm. It is a long race with Amaddeus behind us, but he has still not returned. Perhaps we have a few minutes to go. I pray that we do.

Picking up Michael without a word, I start rushing across the field. Despite Michael’s weight I can run faster than before, even with extra weight. I thank the Elder for giving me his blood. The field consists mostly of dead crops and dry dirt. It makes me think that this farm has not been used for quite some time. The ones who own it should thank their lucky star. I would hate having to kill them for having the misfortune of living here and witnessing the fight between two vampires.

Michael and I are about halfway across the field when I feel the ground shake below us. Amaddeuas is back – and he is not happy. I hear Michael scream on my back, but before I manage to see what is happening I feel a searing pain burst through every part of my body. Amaddeuas is standing before me with his claws obscured in blood – my blood. A gaping wound on my chest is leaking blood at an immense pace; it is almost like a waterfall. I am having a hard time breathing too – I think he burst one of my lungs with his claws. It is a deep cut – the wound must heal instantly before I have lost too much blood. I also feel strange warmth spreading on my back, like liquid being poured down it.

“Death,” Amaddeuas hisses with a pleased grin as he licks my blood of his claws.

“You’ve said that,” I growl.

I am staggering to keep myself standing. Michael is suddenly a far greater burden than before. I feel my knees buckle below me – I will fall. Putting Michael down next to me, I notice a similar wound to mine on his back. That explains the warm sensation I felt.

“Damn,” I whisper.

I feel dizzy and the world is turning more and more into a big blur. I have already lost a lot of blood. I fall to my knees before lying flat on the ground. I only see the contours of Michael’s body on my left.

“Forgive me, Mina,” I whisper hoarsely, “I failed.”

I am passing out. My light-headedness is being replaced by a heavy veil of darkness. This is it. At least no one can say that I did not try. I distinguish Amaddeus’ shadow above me during my last seconds in consciousness.

“Death,” he repeats.

I manage to nod faintly.

“Death.”

He raises his claws above his head to slash my throat open in an arch. As he does, my eyesight is suddenly somewhat sharper and I am more aware of my surroundings. Seeing him stand above me causes me to instinctually go for a throwing knife strapped to my thigh. My movement seems not only to surprise me, but also my attacker who had taken me for practically dead. He barely manages to flinch before I ram the knife into his throat. Shrieking in shock and horror he falls to the ground. I do not waste a second and get back on my feet, grab Michael, who is bleeding terribly, and hasten to the farm.

The farm consists of a cabin, a farm and a garage. It is not big, but it is sufficient to provide shelter, especially since it is surrounded by open fields – there is no possibility for Amaddeuas to surprise me.

I slam the door to the cabin open and place Michael in a corner. The cabin is completely empty apart from some of its rat inhabitants and spiders that obviously have nested pretty much everywhere. My wound has closed itself, though not as swiftly as I had hoped, but I still have enough blood to live. I am dizzy though, like a human having had one too many drinks. I must focus – Amaddeuas is still out there somewhere.

 

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Chapters

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10
11 | 12| 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | Epilogue