Lily looked sweet and innocent as she faced the camera squarely.
I listened to the rest of her prepared speech where-too late-she announced the coming threat. I then waited for the backlash which occurred three seconds after her taped broadcast ended.
The news anchor with a grave look of disapproval began his attack with,
In a bitchy mood, I fired off an email to my queen with just three words.
My victory, however, didn’t make me happy, not when the stakes were so high. I wished the humans would have reacted like my queen wanted. But she’d vastly underestimated mankind and their intolerances.
I’d expected this, though, and already had the vamps who’d come out since my announcement evacuating their premises as we waited for the furor to die down. I wouldn’t risk lives with hope the humans would try and resolve this peacefully. It wasn’t a kind and caring gesture on my part. The more vamps available for my use in the coming battle, the better my odds of surviving.
I spent a week in my web, a big mama spider with spying tendrils spinning out in all directions, snaring all kinds of invaluable information. I learned a lot, such as the fact time was running out. But inaction and desk sitting never sat well with me, and with a lot of pent up frustration-an annoying amount caused by Rafe-I jumped at the chance to get out and kill something. More specifically, some daemons.
The nasty bastards mistakenly invaded the town I considered under my personal protection. A mistake they would pay for.
I armed myself with silver daggers in thigh sheaths before setting out with my personal guard. Eight huge vampires I’d created myself and who owed their allegiance to me and me alone. I’d also trained them myself and knew they were capable of taking on anything I threw at them. I’d need the muscle because lucky me, the raids on my town showed evidence of daemons teaming up; a pair at the least, possibly even three.
I looked forward to testing my strength, and that of my guard, against them and seeing if all our training would pay off.
Like wraiths of death, I cloaked us in shadows and we crept through the town, waiting for the telltale stench of the foul ones.
Hours passed without a sign, and I’d just about decided to move outward from the town to the surrounding forest when the panicked screams rang in my mind. And my heart went deathly still.
“They’re in the castle.” I barked at my men to hurry as I ran swifter than any known creature back to my castle. I could sense the fear and pain in my human blood servants as the daemons hunted them down and cut a swathe through their ranks. I also shared that intimate connection with the vampires I’d created and bound to me. Through my link with them, I experienced their rage and shock as they fought for their lives-to no avail.
So quickly did I move that I lost my guard, but I cared not. Blinded by my anger, only one thought prevailed- make the bastards who’d dared invade my home pay.
I screamed in rage when I felt Annabelle’s fragile flame of life snuff out. My fury pulsed in me, an almost visible power. I stalked into my own castle courtyard, noting with dispassionate eyes the strewn bloody corpses.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” I sang as I stood in the middle of my chosen battlefield-a graveyard of faces I’d once known. I raised my arms to the sky and threw my head back as I pulled on the power that coiled in me, my voice booming. “Come and meet your death you bastards.”
I sensed more than heard the thumps as several large bodies hit the ground, surrounding me. I counted an appalling eight daemons, a number to make even the most stalwart shiver. But I refused to give in to fear. And I would have my revenge, bad odds or not.
Facing me was a brute with rust colored skin. It leered at me with jagged teeth. “Sooo… this is the female who thinks to stop us.” His sibilant words slid across my ears discordantly.
However, he’d said something I found interesting. “Heard of me have you? Then you should know, I am a woman of my word.” I bared my own teeth at him.
The foul beast chuckled, a sound accompanied by the thuds of approaching footsteps. My men had finally caught up. Time to make them pay.
“Take care of her guards,” hissed the leader. “I want the woman for myself.” The daemon made an obscene thrust in my direction with its groin where a stubby erection poked forth.
I laughed. “You’ll need a bigger sword than that if you think you’re going to tame me.”
My taunting words made him roar, and I smiled even as I flashed him my middle finger. He probably didn’t understand the gesture, but I quite enjoyed it. As the sounds of my guard clashing with the daemons rose to flavor the night sky, I dove at the red skinned leader. Sour or not, I’d taste his blood.
The wily bastard met my charge, barely budging as he braced his cloven feet. I hit him hard then ducked away, evading its slashing claws. Thus did we dance, our music the scuffing of shuffling feet, the thumps of landing fists and the grunts of pain and exertion. I added my own deadly notes to the cacophony of sound with the whistling sound of my blades. The lead daemon proved fast, but I moved even faster. My silver daggers arced and flashed as they caught the feeble light from the moon. Each thrust leaving an oozing line on the beast’s skin. My pointed kicks driving the breath from it. My exhilarated laughter, tinged with a madness I’d succumbed to a long time ago, sending the daemon stumbling back, its eyes widening as I stalked him.
“How dare you touch what’s mine,” I growled, the power I’d absorbed over the centuries pulsing inside me.
The leader licked its blackened lips and skipped back out of my reach. “You are strong for a female. Instead of fighting us, you should join us. We could use some strong females to birth the next generation to inherit this place you call Earth.”
I gaped at the creature, stunned at its offer. “Like fuck. I’d rather die than allow your kind to touch me.”
The daemon stopped retreating and grinned with all his pointed teeth. “Then consider your wish granted.”
Too late did I notice that not only had the battlefield grown silent, but the link to my guards was severed, their deaths at the hands of the daemons leaving me alone with-I counted-the leader and three more to take on still.
They closed in, but I refused to let fear shake me even as I knew the end approached. Since my turning, I hated letting others make my decisions for me even when it came to my imminent demise. I dove sideways and went to greet death on my terms-fighting like a rabid bitch to the end.
I moved in a blur, tugging on my innate power to enhance my strength and thus increase the ferocity of my blows. I managed to take one, two, down, but even with my speed, I couldn’t hope to prevail against them all.
I slowed, my adrenaline ebbing as my power, sucked dry, sputtered and died. I now keenly felt each blow, kick and slash. I hit the ground hard on my knees, wavering as I struggled to remain conscious. My vision blurred and pain, that unforgiving mistress, gripped me, but I refused to cry out. I wouldn’t beg for mercy even as I fell flat on my face.
And then night turned to day, or so it seemed as a brilliant light enveloped the courtyard, and with my eyes squinting at the illumination, the blows raining upon me stopped. I sucked in a breath-bad mistake because it fucking hurt-and struggled to sit up. I failed miserably, but I did manage to roll over. I blinked my eyes, then blinked again.
I’d heard of avenging angels, but hearing and seeing? Two totally different things, especially when the really pissed angel was fighting for you. Like some kind of guardian angel, Rafe had arrived in all his glory-and damned if I wasn’t glad to see him.
His snowy white wings, which should have proven impractical, actually gave him an advantage as he leapt up into the air and then plummeted down behind the remaining daemons. He wielded as sword of pure white light- bright enough to make my eyes water-like he’d been born with it. Each move he made, deadly in its efficiency. His face was a grim mask of anger and his eyes blazed with blue light. Even injured, I couldn’t help the jolt of longing- the surge of love.
