Terra's Victory (Destiny's Trinities Book 7) (11 page)

“It wasn’t a theory. It was a question Sera had asked, that he’s now obsessing about.”

“What happens after the war?” Cole asked quietly. “It’s a good question.”

Zoe looked at him, startled. “Nothing happens,” she said quickly. “We go on just as we are. Even if the bonding or whatever fades, it doesn’t matter, especially to us. We already had our own sort of bonding, before we knew a thing about the Grimoré.”

“The bonding is the only reason I’m here,” Declan said quietly.

Zoe stared at him, her throat squeezing. “No. Nuh-uh.”

Cole was just looking at Declan. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking. His expression was…calm.

“I don’t want to hear any more of this,” Zoe said firmly.

“Maybe we
should
talk about it,” Cole said.

Declan sighed. “I’ve had my time and it’s over. This, the last few weeks…it was a bonus. I’ve spent most of it wondering when the other shoe would drop. Maybe that’s when.”

Zoe stared at him, her eyes prickling with tears that hurt as they formed. Her throat was aching. “I didn’t get
my
time with you!”

Declan held out his arm and she went to him, desperate for the comfort. She pressed her face into his shoulder, feeling the perfectly normal, very human softness of flesh over muscles and tendons and bones. He even seemed warm, except that illusion would not last long out here in sub-zero temperatures.

That just made her cry harder.

She ignored the buzz of her phone in her pocket. The war, everyone, could go screw themselves. She was staying right here.

“Hi, Lindal,” Cole said, behind her. “Yeah, they’re back.”

Zoe put her arms around Declan’s neck and his arms tightened. She turned her face to shut out the sunlight.

“
Where
?” Cole asked sharply.

Unbidden, an image invaded Zoe’s thoughts, of a red sun sinking down behind low hills, touching the open land with crimson and gold. Long grass waving in the clearing…and creatures emerging from behind a derelict barn. Over the top of the image was a compulsion to hurry, lathered with Seaveth’s unique mental signature.

Zoe had never been there, yet she knew exactly where the place was. “Georgia,” she said, reluctantly pulling herself out of Declan’s arms. She wiped her cheeks. “They’re massing in northern Georgia, west of Clarkesville.”

“What’s in northern Georgia they could want?” Declan wondered.

Cole’s mouth turned down. “Clarkesville.”

* * * * *

There were hundreds of vampeen, clustered together in the long grass. Wyatt watched as more of them emerged from the trees, crossing the little creek at the south end of the field and from the hills to the west. There were four files of them moving like ants, collecting in the center of the field.

The vampeen already there didn’t look at the trinities as they arrived. They barely looked at each other. Most of them were crouched down on their haunches, staring at the ground, their jaws grinding so that their teeth, which showed brightly in the last of the sunlight, kept moving. It was almost as if their teeth-filled jaws were uncomfortable.

Perhaps they were. Wyatt stared at them, fascinated.

The incubus, Aithan, jogged up to them, his long curved knives in both hands. “As much as possible, we leave the vampeen alone. It’s the Grimoré we want. As soon as you see one of them, jump there and try to take it out.”

“Leave them
alone
?” Mia said, sounding outraged.

Alex put his hand on her shoulder. He looked sick with worry already and her bloodthirstiness wasn’t helping.

“We’re trying something,” Aithan said. “There hasn’t been any time to fill everyone in. After, we will. For now, focus on the Grimoré themselves.”

Wyatt nodded. “I have always hated the ugly fuckers. No problems,” he told Aithan.

Aithan nodded and moved on.

Wyatt turned to Alex and Mia before she could react and Alex responded. “I know you have to be here,” Wyatt told Mia. “I accept that we are useless if you’re not. Please,
please
, hang back behind us. Can you do that?”

“You’re better with a gun, anyway,” Alex added.

Mia sighed. “Truth is, I’m starting to waddle. This bump slows me down.” She pressed a hand against her belly. “I can watch your asses for you instead.”

“You’ll protect our backs while you’re doing it, right?” Wyatt asked.

She rolled her eyes. Alex grinned.

* * * * *

Zack nudged Beth’s arm, drawing her attention away from the hasty last minute conversations she was having with trinity people both in her head and face to face. “Look,” he said.

Materializing around and among the trinities were dozens of black-hooded elves, their tall figures almost invisible in the steadily deepening shadows.

Beth broke off in the middle of a sentence to look. Cairo, whom she had been talking to, also turned to see.

The elves, almost as if they had been cued, all dropped their cloaks. Out here in the middle of a field, there were few humans to care about their other-worldly features and clothing. Beneath, they wore the light armor and elegant robes of elvish warriors and each of them had a sword and a long-handled knife.

Beth sighed. “Amrod.” She hurried through the grass, her knives slapping her thighs, over to where the tall Elf was tightening his sword belt and checking his weapons.

Zack stretched his hearing. It was a challenge, even at this short distance, to hear them, because there were so many others around them talking in low voices, as they glanced toward the south end of the field where the vampeen were sitting.

Beth smiled at the senior elf. “Amrod, I appreciate you and your people’s assistance once more.”

“Your summons seemed urgent,” Amrod said stiffly.

“Every battle brings us one battle closer to the last one,” Beth told him. “Your help ensures we get to that next one.”

It was a subtle way of saying they couldn’t survive without the elves. Zack hid his amusement. Beth was handling Amrod perfectly. She was appealing to his vanity, which all elves had in bucketloads, including Lindal. That was why Zack went out of his way to tease him. It was so easy to get Lindal flustered and irritated.

Amrod bent stiffly, an almost regal nod. “While the gates remain open, it is prudent to guard them against invasion.”

“Or you could just help us deal with the Grimoré once and for all, then you wouldn’t have to guard them at all,” Beth pointed out.

Gloves off.
Zack held his breath, straining to hear Amrod’s response.

“Each war has a turning point,” Amrod said, sounding old and wise. “This might be one of them. Shall we find out?”

It was no answer at all. Zack let himself breathe again, disappointed. He saw that Lindal was watching him, the wariness back in his eyes.

“Amrod won’t commit one way or another,” Lindal said. “It’s not his place to do that.”

“Perhaps it should be. He sounds frustrated,” Zack said.

“We all are,” Lindal said, shoving his sword back into the scabbard with a hard push.

* * * * *

Ángel nudged Remmy. “Hey, the fight is over here.”

Remmy stirred. “That barn structure….” He nodded toward the west.

“The one that is falling down?”

“There’s enough of it left for someone to hide behind,” Remmy said.

Octavia lowered the knife she had been balancing on her finger. She had taken weeks to settle on this one long-bladed weapon. Ángel had to admit she was very good with it. She looked at Remmy, then at the wreck of the barn. “Quite a few people could squeeze behind what’s left of the walls,” she said thoughtfully.

Ángel smiled. “Go for the Grimoré, yes?”

Remmy nodded again. “When we get a chance, yes. Watch yourselves. It is anyone’s guess what might happen when we try.”

There was an inhuman cry, rising up into the twilight, issuing from among the milling vampeen. It might have been a signal, for immediately, the vampeen began to lope toward them, their hands slapping the ground for speed and balance. The sounds they made were ferocious, filled with snarls and growls like nothing else on Earth.

Octavia let the knife drop and snatched the hilt out of the air with a flick of her wrist and gripped it.

“And so it begins,” Remmy breathed.

* * * * *

In the months and years the trinities had been facing off against the vampeen, all of them had become so much more skilled at dealing with them. Diego preferred his guns, only in close quarters, they were dangerous to more than just vampeen. Instead, he had trained himself to proficiency with a pair of knives. There was an artistry in using them, he had discovered, that rivaled any satisfaction the guns might bring. Thanks to his vampire speed and the experience he’d built up from numerous encounters, the work of killing the vampeen went smoothly.

It made a difference that Blake and Sera were with him. He couldn’t see them and didn’t have time to look for them. He could feel them, close by.

“Look for the Grimoré!” Blake shouted.

“Why?”

“To kill them!”

“We have to kill all the vampeen before we get to kill the big fuckers!” Diego shouted back.

“We can jump there. Look for them!”

Diego wondered if this was part of the thing that Blake had been stewing about since he had returned from Jasper that morning. With a mental shrug, he decided that sparing a quick, raking glance in between each vampeen wouldn’t hurt. Besides, he already suspected they were over in the ramshackle wooden hut thing at the edge of the field. He didn’t know why he thought so. It was pure gut instinct. He had learned to rely on his instincts long ago.

* * * * *

Declan refused to pick up a knife or a gun. He stayed behind Zoe and Cole, warning them of anyone approaching from the rear. When that happened, they all turned around a central axis, like a lazy Susan with Declan at the center, so that either Cole or Zoe could deal with the new threat.

It gave him time to scan the landscape, to look farther abroad than anyone else holding a weapon could spare the time to do.

He didn’t tap Zoe on the shoulder, because that would distract her, even for a tiny second, which would be enough for a vampeen to get in under her guard. Instead, he waited for a moment when she brought one down and the next had not launched its attack.

“Behind the old barn walls!” he shouted. “Can you jump us there?”

“Why?”

“The Grimoré are there.”

Zoe shot him a startled glance. Then, “Cole, as soon as you’re free, grab me.”

Cole didn’t respond. Instead, he stepped closer to the vampeen trying to claw at him and swung his fist in a fast, powerful upper cut. The vampeen was lifted off its feet and landed heavily.

Cole didn’t wait to see it land. He spun on his heel and swept Zoe into his free arm.

Declan had been waiting for it. He grabbed hold of Zoe’s shirt. She didn’t need to haul his weight, for he had none. As long as he maintained contact, she would take him with her.

Another vampeen was galloping toward Zoe. Cole leaned forward, holding his arm across her body, the knife point held horizontally.

The vampeen ran onto the blade and halted with a grunt of surprise.

Zoe jumped.

* * * * *

The inside of the barn was identical to the field beyond, full of waving, thigh-high grasses.

Except there were Grimoré here. They were standing with odd stillness, facing each other. Declan didn’t have time to count. He thought there were six of them.

Cole raced forward, in the vision-defeating blur of a vampire at full speed. The wind from his passage lifted Zoe’s red locks. She was already heading for the fuckers herself.

Neither of them made it. As soon as they got close, all six of the Grimoré disappeared.

A shout went up from beyond the barn. “There! There! Murphy! Grab the bastard!”

“No, here!”

Declan recognized the voice. It was Seaveth’s.

“Back,” he urged Zoe and Cole. “Back outside! They jumped out there!”

Cole turned and ran out through the space where the barn doors had once been, straight out into the battle beyond. Zoe, who had not moved as far toward the Grimoré as Cole had, raced back to Declan, gripped his arm and jumped.

* * * * *

They landed right next to Cole, who was already struggling with two vampeen, a hand to each throat. Just beyond the pair stood one of the Grimoré, who was watching Cole with a blank, expressionless white face. The eyes were soulless and huge.

As Zoe lunged forward and buried her knife in the shoulder of one of Cole’s pair, the Grimoré vanished.

It was only because it reappeared in Declan’s line of sight that he noticed it. Far away, on the other side of the writhing and toiling mass of bodies, the Grimoré materialized.

Cora, Aithan and Rhys were closest.

“Seaveth, alert Cora!” Declan yelled, for Beth was only a few paces away, standing with a bloody pair of knives, her chest heaving.

She glanced at Cora.

Cora’s blonde head whipped around to sight the Grimoré. Aithan leapt at the thing with incredible power, his knife plunging down as he did.

The Grimoré vanished again.

Declan drew in a sharp breath, scanning the field.

All over the edges of the battle, the Grimoré were vanishing and reappearing, every time someone got close.

He looked at Beth. She must have felt his gaze, for she glanced back at him. Her brows lifted.

Yeah, very interesting
, Declan agreed silently.

Someone screamed. It wasn’t a human, or anything that had once been human and it wasn’t vampeen. The sound was unearthly, in a high, pure, wind chime kind of way. The stress and fear in the voice was unmistakable. There were words in the scream, too. They were not words Declan understood.

He didn’t have hairs on the back of his neck to stand up. Instead, an atavistic shudder ran through him as he looked in the direction of the scream. Zoe gasped, too, There were vampeen in front of her and she didn’t look up.

“Who was that?” Cole demanded, as he swung his knife.

On the far side of the battlefield, farther to the south from where Cora, Aithan and Rhys were fighting, was Amrod, the senior elf. He was standing very straight and tall, looking out ahead of him. Not even his gaze was moving.