Everdark

the same. We both landed on our feet again. I lunged this time, not waiting for her. I came down, both fists clenched, and smashed into her jaw. She yanked me by my ponytail and brought my face close to hers.

“I know what you are, bitch,” she said. “You know what I am?”

“Oh yeah,” I muttered, and elbowed her in the gut. She dropped me.

“We’ll fight, then,” she said. “Like mortals.”

Our fight continued over the cheers of the crowd.

Suddenly, another joined in.

I now faced two female newlings.

With a quick glance, I found Eli. Noah physically had his hands on Eli’s arms. He was holding him back. And Eli’s face looked thunderous. I ignored it.

I took one helluva whipping, but I kept them both off me. At least, I kept their fangs from probing into my flesh. It was almost as if they dared me to make them morph; I have no idea if they knew I carried silver. But because of the number of mortals in the room, I wasn’t about to drop them.

I could have, but I didn’t.

My body was rushed by both; I leapt and cleared them. The crowd cheered.

Then, the crowd grew silent.

Then, they started to scream.

Only then did I notice why.

The newlings had begun their attacks on mortals. I guess my cover, and probably those of the others, were now officially blown. I didn’t glance around; I didn’t have time. The two newlings in the ring with me were now determined to make me one of them. They lunged, simultaneously, and I had to concentrate and zone the screams out, focusing just on them if I wanted to stay alive.

As a mortal with tendencies; not a newling.

I bounded off one of them—using her face as a springboard as I grasped the silver from my hip in midair and plunged it at the she-vamp lunging toward me. The moment she dropped, I did the same, crouched, grasped another blade from the other hip, and threw it at the other. She was ready for me, though, and caught it.

I grasped another, aimed, but before it left my hand, she lunged; a body flew in front of me, directly at her. They collided. Chaos was all around me, and all I could do was stand there and stare, dumbfounded.

Eli.

He ripped the she-vamp’s heart out, as it was the only way to instantly kill besides using a silver blade. When he turned and spared me a look, it truly frightened me.

It wasn’t just that his face had contorted. I dare not even say what I really thought.

“Get out of here, Riley,” he ordered, his voice a deep growl.

I set my jaw.

“Luc! Get her the fuck out of here!” he yelled over the crowd.

I turned and ran, but not away. Blood and killing were all around me; the metallic scent of human blood tainted the air, along with the screams. I was going to take out as many newlings as possible before I let any Dupré take me outside. I found one, his fangs about to pierce the throat of a boy no older than twenty. I was close. With Five Finger Death Punch’s “Hard to See” slamming in some random boom box and mixing with mortal screams and blood gurgling, I lunged, plunging my silver blade directly into his heart, just before his fangs made contact. I didn’t wait for reaction. I sought another.

Mentally counting my blades, I totaled nine left. In my peripheral, I saw Seth and Zetty, both with gleaming blades in their own hands. I glanced and saw Noah’s beautiful face transformed once again; Phin’s and Luc’s as well. And Josie’s. I didn’t look for Eli; I knew he’d be one pissed-off vampire. I’d worry about it later. After this.

This was over in less than thirty minutes.

I knew it was over when all was quiet. Some mortals had escaped. The ones who’d been bitten remained inside; Garr’s people would be here soon to collect them. I knew that because Noah had already morphed back into his human form and was talking on the cell phone. I zoned in and listened long enough to know that an assload of bitten mortals would be taken to Garr’s version of Da Island this night. At least a lot would be saved. But this was still not over. Far from over—just ... this was over. For now.

I glanced around at the ones who would never see life again. They lay in heaps of mangled flesh, blood, and bone; some with their chest cavities ripped wide open, their hearts pierced. Some even still pumped blood, and I had to wonder for a split second how Noah, his folks, and the Duprés could stand being in such close proximity of so much blood and not go . . . nuts. That was the power of hoodoo and the conjuring of Preacher and Garr, I suppose. Pretty cool shit.

Without my permission, my body gave out; I dropped to both knees and simply looked around. I’d used all of my blades; I was still covered in mortal blood and vamp goo. I felt as if I’d been in a medieval melee, as if I’d been fighting alongside William Wallace or something. This had to be close to what that’d been like.

Minus the vampire aspect, of course.

I was drained. My head throbbed. I no longer had the capability to filter out all of the exaggerated sounds and scents of the city. I resisted the urge to cover my ears.

“I wish someone—anyone—would turn that fucking boom box off,” I yelled.

I waited; no one did, so I got up, pushed my way through the bodies of mortals and dusty piles of vampire newlings, and found the music. I love some Five Finger Death Punch, don’t get me wrong. But I was drained; irritable beyond belief, and . . . something else I couldn’t define. PMS? Who the fuck knows.

I picked the box up and threw it against the wall.

I felt my body falling then, completely out of gas.

Strong arms caught me before I hit the floor.

When I looked, it was Eli’s painfully beautiful face I saw, and I inhaled deeply. He smiled down at me, lines of worry etched into his brow. “Hey, gorgeous,” he said.

The beauty of his smile gave me energy.

A lot of energy.

I tilted, regained my footing, and Eli steadied me on my feet. He moved to wrap me in an embrace I knew —knew—I’d melt into. Unfortunately, I didn’t get the chance.

I passed the hell out.

Part Nine Captive

“Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes, they win.”

—Stephen King

“What did I say before? Don’t fuck with my

loved ones. Sorry for the potty mouth of late,

but Jesus and hot damn—a lot of shit’s hap-

pening and, frankly, it’s starting to overwhelm.

I’m afraid it’s going to consume me, all this

evil; or at least turn me into some crazed, psy-

cho, silver-totin’, vampire-huntin’ fool who

says fuck way too much. It’s like who the hell

can you trust anymore? I keep finding that the

ones you least likely thought you could trust

are the most trustworthy of them all. How

weird is that, huh? All I know is this: all the