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She saw the skin had dried in the dry climate. Gently, she pushed at the body and turned him over. His face was unrecognizable to her, but she had known him. That she was sure of. Another certain thing was the puncture wounds in his neck. Whatever vamp or hybrid who had done this, had hurt him enough to drain him slowly. Oftentimes, they would rip open throats and gulp down everything they could fast. Some didn’t have the patience or self-control to drain slowly. It was why so many of the ‘voluntary’ blood donors died these days.
“Whoever he was, he was hurt badly to be killed this way,” Harmiston said, having come to the same conclusion.
Nadia nodded and looked up at him. A shade fell over him, even in the dark. It was all the warning she got.
The beast must not have seen her. The large and looming form of a vampire grabbed Harmiston and pushed him toward her. Harmiston had time for no more than a gasp of surprise before those pale hands clamped down on his throat. The air was knocked out of him regardless when he crashed into the wall.
Nadia didn’t think. Horror at the sight rose in her, but she drew her dagger and arose, bumping into the vamp, and then, right before those lethal fangs bit into Harmiston’s neck, shoved the blade up under its chin, right into its head. Ice-blue eyes turned on her and she could see the surprise. The beast had not heard or seen her bent over the body.
Nadia already had her silver knife in her other hand. She stabbed it through the nearest ice-blue eye and then proceeded to twist both blades. The vamp screeched, or tried to, but no more than a wheezing sound came. Nadia yanked her dagger lose in an unforgiving move, and shoved it into its body, through the ribs and straight into its dark heart.
Harmiston gasped again, this time for the need of the air he got when the hand around his throat let go. The vamp, blurred in form, trying to shift to a lupine form. Nadia withdrew both her blades, and the beast fell to the ground, blurring and then remaining in its vampiric form.
“That was a hybrid,” Harmiston managed. “You killed a hybrid,” he added, eyes wide, and without enough air to say what he wanted.
“It was dumb luck,” she said. She knew what he was on about, but this hybrid had been careless and unaware of the threat right below his intended meal. “You all right?” she asked Harmiston, feeling her heart thundering. She had seen his death there for a second, and it shook her to her core.
Harmiston nodded, equally, if not more shaken. Then he craned his neck and looked out among the boulders.
Nadia turned to see but noticed the sound of boots hitting the ground nearby first. Then came the unmistakable screech of a vampire, followed by the howl of a wolf. They were communicating. And they were right behind the nearest boulders. She was sure of it.
“No time to pause,” she told Harmiston who gave a quick nod of understanding before two more hybrids appeared in front of them. Nadia drew her sword, and Harmiston conjured his blue magic of defense, an orb glowing in front of him. But there was something else going on.
“Those are too many feet making sounds than those two,” she said, as the hybrids drew nearer. Something was off. They weren’t looking at Nadia and Harmiston.
“What?” Harmiston said. The hybrids in each of their forms noticed them and changed directions. Harmiston wasn’t having it this time. He pushed the magical energy forth, and it expanded in the air. It struck the beasts head-on and threw them back. They slammed into a boulder behind them and fell to the ground. Before they got up completely, the area swarmed with people wearing dark coats, swords at the ready.
Chapter 9
In the darkness, the swarm of Wraiths looked like a multitude of armed assassins, despite their actual numbers. They didn’t hesitate in attacking the hybrids, splitting into two groups of about six Wraiths each. They never eased up on the hybrids. Nadia saw the beasts rise to their feet and fight back, an impressive feat given who they were fighting. The hybrids’ strength erupted in vicious attacks and she saw them shift forms a few times, using the powers of the beasts within them to fight back.
When the first of the hybrids fell and was promptly pierced through the heart for certainty, the other one became desperate. He fought with a rash madness, striking out in panic more than any belief in his own strength. Like every Wraith was taught since their first days as Bolts, strength wasn’t everything.
The last hybrid died moments later in the shape of a vampire, gasping pointlessly for air as his throat was slit.
“Oh,” Harmiston uttered when one Wraith gave him the final strike of a blade. This drew the Wraiths’ attention toward him and Nadia.
In an instance, the dead hybrids were forgotten. They represented no more threats. Twelve swords were at the ready, and the owners of those swords came closer, albeit slowly.
“No need to be so, uh, cross,” Harmiston said.
Nadia nudged him on and they stepped forward while she sheathed her sword. She had no intention of being killed because of a misunderstanding.
A man stepped forward, peering at both of them from under his hood.
“A Ghost?” he said, and Nadia recognized his voice. How many times had she not heard the man speak? Besides, discerning the dark blue of her clothes in the dark meant someone with exceptionally good eyes, like an elf. Or a half-elf in this case.
“Specter Terys,” she said, and indicated the dead hybrid behind her and Harmiston. “We’re on the same side. Lower your weapons.”
Terys pulled his hood back, and she saw his familiar face, only he was utterly different from how he used to look. His beautiful features had always seemed a little too much to be human, but now he looked, like everyone around him, tired, dirty, and simply worn out. His bright platinum-blond hair was covered in dust and ashes to the degree that the color didn’t stand out at all. They all looked like that. The filth of the strain of this place was a physical reminder on them all.
The sound of Nadia’s muffled voice through the mask made him narrow his eyes, clearly not able to place her. She sighed and took the mask off. Harmiston did the same. It was better to identify themselves properly before anything bad happened.
The harsh air assaulted them immediately, and she instantly wished for the mask back. But then, if the Wraiths had survived like this for weeks, then so could she for a short while. The air was breathable, but it felt thick and mixed with gases and toxins that shouldn’t be there. It made everything slow down.
“Nadia,” Terys said when he saw her face. “Interesting choice of colors.”
“I was a free agent when they took me in,” she said, meeting his eyes straight on.
