Dawn of Darkness (Daeva, #1) (44 page)

"Why me?"
I screamed. "You already had Nate out there."

"It would
have been too risky to have Nathaniel return and have the device
implanted," Verloren said. "I'll admit, you weren't exactly first
choice, but we couldn't let you continue poking your nose into the
origin of your abilities. Two birds with one stone, as they
say."

"And
where did my ability come from?"

Verloren
punched some more buttons on the panel. "I suppose there is no harm
in telling you now. After all, you'll be joining me soon enough.
Your abilities come from my blood. I had some of it injected into
unborn children. You and your friends are the results of those
experiments."

"Why?"

"To
create my own supernatural army, unbound by the shackles of the
sun. Humans are such weak, fragile creatures. I gave you some of my
power so you might stand up against those despicable beings that
call themselves vampires. Really, you should be thanking
me."

"So we're
just toys to you? Is that it?"

"Your
kind is nothing more than walking blood bags to me," Verloren spat.
"We gave your people the gift of immortality in order to serve us.
And how were we repaid? By killing most of my family. I watched as
my brothers and sisters died in front of my eyes. Were it not for
the fact that I need human blood to survive, I would have killed
you all with the plague."

"Then the
plague was you?"

Verloren
cackled. "Yes, that was the first stage of my plan to usher in a
new world. You humans were content to welcome the so-called
vampires into your society. I had to make you fear them, and so I
founded the Silver Dawn and created the false
apocalypse."

"How does
that help?" I snapped. "What could you possibly gain by wiping out
most of the human race?"

"It's
simple," Verloren replied. "It was like flicking the reset switch
on this pathetic world. And once I wipe out Aldar, I will control
what's left of your pitiful race. I can make you fight my war for
me. Over time, Rachat will grow, and we will systematically wipe
the imposters from the face of the Earth. Then they will slowly
forget vampires ever existed, and we can go back to the life we
once had, living in secret, able to do as we please."

"But that
could take centuries."

"I'm not
exactly going anywhere." Verloren laughed. "I have all
the–"

He froze,
before letting out a shrill cry, unlike anything I ever heard
before. There are no words to describe the exact sound. It pulsed
and resonated, echoing off the walls. Verloren gasped, clutching at
his head. I had heard enough. I aimed the gun at his head and fired
three times. Verloren jerked back as the bullets hit him, but he
didn't go down. I fired again and again. I hit his head and his
chest, over and over, until I was pulling the trigger and nothing
happened. I watched in horror as the skin around the wounds began
to flow and quiver, not unlike when I had seen Daniel change
forms.

His skin
began to darken, turning a sickly shade of brown, accompanied by
the cracking and popping of bones as Verloren seemed to grow until
he towered at least a foot above me. His face grew outward. Two
slanted red eyes stared back at me. His mouth opened both
horizontally and vertically, filled with row upon row of tiny,
sharp fangs. Only two small holes were left where his nose once
was. The dark robe he was wearing fell to the ground in tatters.
His skin was leathery, almost scaly. Down the length of his arms
were glistening barbs, ending in three claws on the back of his
hands. His large feet had long, hooked toes. Marcus had been right.
Demonic was definitely the right word.

"Your
bullets are not enough to kill me," Verloren hissed. His voice
retained the high-pitched pulsing quality of his earlier cry.
"Nathaniel is no more, but you and your friend will soon take his
place."

I would
have let out a sigh, if my knees hadn't been threatening to give
way beneath me. If Nate was dead, then Ash had won. Or, at least,
that's what I was hoping. Verloren sidestepped into the centre of
the room, straightening out his body. The bones in his limbs moved
in a way that was completely unnatural, like he had joints in the
strangest of places.

"You
tremble in my presence. Do you now understand the extent of my
power?"

I
couldn't move. My legs refused to move. My arms refused to move.
Verloren let out a hideous laugh that sent violent shivers down my
spine.

"So,"
Ash's voice came from behind me. "That's a pure-blood." I turned my
head. Beads of sweat dripped from Ash's forehead. His chest rose
and fell in short, sharp movements. "I can see why you've been in
hiding all this time. You're fucking ugly."

"Interesting," Verloren said. "You stand before me in your
weakened state and yet you show no fear, but I can feel it inside
of you. You are terrified. What can two humans hope to do against
an immortal being such as I?"

"You
underestimate us," Ash said. He stood next to me, gripping my hand.
His touch was like a wave of warmth that washed over me, helping to
fight back the paralysing fear.

"No. It
would appear I overestimated your intelligence," Verloren growled.
He rushed at us, raising a clawed hand. His speed had decreased, I
noted, but he was still terribly fast. Before we could react, he
swung at Ash, knocking him to one side as if he were nothing more
than a rag doll. Ash grunted as his body hit the hard stone
floor.

Verloren
turned to me. I stepped back and reached for my magic, lashing out
at him. The skin on his arm tore, the edges seeming to bubble as
the wound knitted itself back together. The edges of his mouth
quivered with amusement.

"Did you
think such weak magic would work against me?" he asked. "You are a
fool."

His hand
shot out, pinning me to the wall by my throat. The hinges of his
jaw opened, revealing a long, black tongue that traced the line of
my neck. I shuddered under its icy touch. He leaned his head
forward, and then paused. Verloren let out another shrill cry,
coating my face in saliva as the edges of his mouth began to
freeze.

"Get your
ugly face away from him," Ash yelled.

Verloren
let go of my throat, leaving me gasping for air. He smashed at the
ice, shattering his own jaw. Ash's eyes widened as we watched the
bone reform. Muscle and skin wove itself over the bone in a matter
of seconds, until his face was once again complete.

"You will
pay for your transgression." He charged at Ash, who managed to dive
out of the way, only to be caught by a clawed hand. Verloren
gripped at his throat, lifting him up into the air. Ash held onto
the scaly arm, encasing it in ice, before bringing a fist up and
smashing it to pieces. Verloren screamed and quickly grabbed hold
of Ash with his other hand.

"Mik,"
Ash said, choking.

I
unsheathed my knife and ran to Verloren. His other arm was still
reforming. I jumped, managing to drive the blade into his skull.
Verloren screamed and hissed. He flailed about, trying to shake me
while keeping his hold on Ash. He grabbed me with his newly
reformed arm and threw me to the floor. The barbs on his arm caught
against my shoulder. A burning pain shot through me as they tore
into my skin and I landed on my back, the cold stone floor knocking
the wind out of me.

I
clutched my shoulder as I sat up, my hand coated in warm blood. Ash
was attempting to freeze Verloren's arm again. His feet were
dangling, flailing wildly. Verloren lifted his free hand up and
swung it downward. Ash screamed, the claws tearing down his chest
and stomach. I watched in horror as blood arced out from the tips
of Verloren's claws. He discarded Ash to one side, and his sharp,
red eyes turned to me once more.

I watched
Ash struggle to push himself up onto his hands and knees. He
collapsed back onto the ground. My throat closed up on me. My heart
beat feverishly, drowning out all other noise as the blood raced
through my head. It was my fault, I thought. I shouldn't have given
in and wandered off on my own. If I hadn't, then Ash wouldn't have
come looking for me. I should have waited for Violet and
Daniel.

Verloren
stepped forward. Tears rolled down my cheeks. "No," I said, the
word barely escaping my lips. This couldn't be happening. The pain
swelled inside of me, threatening to burst out. I let out a
piercing, guttural scream that made even Verloren pause for a
moment. All of my pain flew out, slashing at Verloren. He staggered
back, laughing. His frozen arm fell to pieces, struggling to reform
as my magic hacked at the incomplete bones.

"Your
efforts are futile," he said. "In the end, it will all be for
naught."

I
screamed again, feeling the energy drain from me in one last
violent burst. The second of Verloren's arms fell to the floor,
disintegrating into a pile of ash. My magic was fading, and his
wounds beginning to heal. A deafening roar echoed through the
halls, followed by the sound of running footsteps.

A blur of
a figure leaped across the room, knocking Verloren onto his back.
There was a gut-wrenching cry as something was thrown across the
room, landing next to me. I glanced down at it, struggling to
regain my breath. Through my watery vision I saw Verloren's tongue,
wriggling helplessly on the floor. If I had had the energy, I would
have jumped up and away. The thrashing tongue came to a stop, and
it went the way of his arm, becoming nothing more than a mound of
ash.

Another
blur entered the room and stopped in front of me. Violet. She
looked down at me, and seeing that I wasn't gravely injured, rushed
off to assist the furred humanoid, who was tearing into Verloren.
Screams echoed off the walls as claws and teeth dug into him,
ripping at his flesh.

I managed
to push myself to my feet. The pain in my shoulder was gone,
replaced by a tingling numbness. I clutched at it and hobbled over
to Ash. He lay face-down in a puddle of blood, groaning and
wincing. I helped him roll over onto his back. His stomach was a
mess of torn flesh and blood. My heart jumped into my mouth. Blood
was still seeping out. I tried to rip the fabric of his top so I
could have something to press against the wound, but the material
was too tough, and I didn't have the energy left. Sebastian kneeled
down next to me. He pulled his thick jumper up and ripped the vest
from underneath. He pressed it firmly to Ash's stomach.

"You're
gonna be fine," I told him, my tears dripping down onto his
face.

Ash shook
his head. "It's too late."

"No. You
can't leave me, not now."

"Sorry. I
guess I'll have to break that promise." Ash's eyelids began to
close, his head lolling to one side.

"No, stay
awake." I took hold of his head, and his eyes opened ever so
slightly.

"Mik, I
love you," he said, his voice nothing more than a
whisper.

"I love
you too," I said. "You can't die. What am I supposed to do without
you?"

In the
back of my mind I registered that the fighting had stopped. Daniel
was crouched down at my side, naked. A hand rested lightly on my
back.

"Promise
me..." Ash's voice trailed off.

"What?" I
asked, leaning in closer.

"Live...
for me," he said, his voice getting quieter with every word. His
eyes closed again.

"Ash?" I
shook his shoulders. "No, stay with me." I couldn't see any more
because of the tears. "ASH!" I screamed.

Daniel
held me in his arms as I wailed and cried out to Ash. He carried me
out of the room, and I struggled against him, wanting to stay at
Ash's side. He couldn't be dead. He just couldn't. I cried until my
throat was dry and sore, and still the tears kept coming. My eyes
stung. I cried until there was nothing left, and exhaustion caught
up with me. And then I was asleep, alone once more in the
darkness.

I never
did like funerals. Now I hated them even more. There was only a
small gathering at the cemetery; a few friends, his parents and his
brother. The grave was dug close to the ruined church, which was
decorated in all manner of graffiti.

In the
days after Verloren's death, the vampires carried out their plan to
have General Marsten, and the other leading officials, renounce the
Silver Dawn, and tell the citizens of Rachat the truth. The city
went into chaos. Hordes of people stormed the church, burning the
insides and vandalising the walls. The mobs went out of control.
General Marsten and Principal Wilkes were among two of the
casualties. Their bodies were defiled and mutilated until they were
unrecognisable. I had sat watching from the top floor of the
academy, overlooking the parade ground as the speech was given. I
saw the looks of anger on the crowd's faces as they rushed the
stage. My only regret is I hadn't been able to join in.

Even now,
three days later, things weren't fully under control. Sergeant
Locke, along with several of the other officers, managed to rally
most of the cadets and soldiers after the initial outburst. They
worked day and night, attempting to restore some semblance of
order.