Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 145341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 727(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 727(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
CHAPTER
18
Petru and Afanasiv placed their bodies squarely between the royals and the emerging army. Get outside, into the open, sívamet. Get your brothers outside.
The room was far too small, and with so many inside, the blood on the floor making it slippery to take a step, the enemy would have the advantage getting to the royals. The stench was unbearable—a foul smell permeating the air.
Garald managed to get the door open, grabbed Rudlof by the front of his shirt and thrust him outside. Andros all but shoved his sister out the door, following her closely. Grigor moved up to her side and Garald took her other side.
Once in the open, the royals spread out, giving each other room while still being close enough to protect one another.
The wind rose to a fever pitch, howling as it raced toward them, coming down the mountain in a rush of bitter cold. Dark clouds rolled and pitched, black and then gray in an angry boiling mix of icy mist. Lightning veined underneath the edges of the clouds, strobing the dark sky with brief flashes of white-hot energy. A few yards away, the forest seemed alive, thick tree branches beating the air wildly, needles flying like tiny spears in all directions as the wind hit from first one direction and then another.
Afanasiv positioned himself close to his lifemate. “Six demons coming at us from the house. They look to be elites. There are eight vampires. At least three could be master vampires. Xayvion wouldn’t have placed lesser vampires who were unable to protect their masters. He wants a decisive victory.”
Andros gave a short, brisk nod, acknowledging the information as he tore off his clothes, allowing his wolf freedom. His sister and Garald were the best at fighting demons. Grigor and he would help the ancients with the vampires.
“They want your deaths above all others,” Afanasiv reminded him.
Vasilisa drew her sword from beneath her coat. Garald took her back, his sword raised high. They kept their gazes fixed on the large figures with the horns on their heads as they came stomping out of the house, looking like giant bulls standing upright on back legs. At once, the red, glowing eyes locked on the two royals. The demons snorted and stamped their cloven hooves. Gray smoke streamed out of the wide nostrils. They lowered their heads and charged.
Behind the demons came the vampires, hissing and spreading out the moment they were out of the house, taking to the air, going in different directions. Afanasiv kept his attention on them as they burst from the structure, trying to dull their images, still disoriented from being small shadows locked inside Olga. He waited to lock on to one of the master vampires.
The lesser vampires coming out first were to provide distraction so their masters could escape all discovery. The masters waited, hidden, having no idea that the ancients and royals knew anything of their numbers or plans.
As the lesser vampires flew at the royals shrieking, trying to encircle them, Fen and Zev materialized out of the air, slamming their fists deep into the chests of the two vampires closest to Andros and ripping out their hearts. Lightning forked across the sky and slammed down to incinerate the two hearts, immediately jumping to the bodies of the two vampires before they even fell from the sky to the ground.
One lesser vampire had managed to get above Garald and had started his descent, teeth and claws out, his speed increasing as he got closer to the royal. Garald’s attention was fully occupied with the demons bearing down on him. The vampire ran full force into a barrier, impaling his chest on wicked talons that drove right through muscle and bone and fastened around his heart. Shrieking, he backpedaled, pulling away, using his hands to tear at the barrier. By pulling away, he assisted in the extraction of his heart. Razvan tossed the heart away from the vampire into the air, right into a jagged vein of lightning. The streak of white-hot energy forked to include the vampire’s rotting body, incinerating both body and heart.
The wind shrieked and moaned a warning. The ground beneath their feet shivered, lifted and settled.
“More come,” Vasilisa cautioned.
Afanasiv felt the warning coming from both the earth and the wind. They knew Xayvion had assembled an army to attack the Lycans, and this was his night to wipe out as many as possible in one fast raid. Still, he waited without revealing himself. The masters would come like bloated spiders, waiting until chaos took all attention and they could safely exit the house. It mattered little to them that the pawns they’d brought to serve them were being destroyed; more were coming. More would take their place. Xayvion had promised he would provide many vampires to surround the masters to serve them.