Devon looks from Remiel to Constantine and wonders how he knows about Constantine’s power. No one, not even Lizzie, knows exactly what he is capable of. He is so secretive about everything to do with him.
“I look forward to wiping you both out of this World. Such a disappointment,” Tiamat says and coils a ball of Dragon fire so big it makes Xane’s Hell fire orb look like a marble. “But at least there are still the Chosen-in-waiting to give me what I require.” She gives Devon a seductive look that makes his stomach somersault in disgust.
Devon can only stand and watch as She readies the magick and Remiel and Constantine go on the offensive themselves with a remarkable display of magick that sends a shiver down his spine. He looks to Xane, who is just standing by idly, and for a fraction of a second Devon shakes his head. The Overlord is just going to let this play out and get two of his competitors out of the way. Vito is right: they are all diabolical, really. No one has Lizzie’s best interests at heart, it’s all about winning it. That is all that matters to every single one of them.
Even him, he thinks with a loud gulp. His planned manipulation of her–of getting her to sire him again so he can get Constantine out of her life–is pretty sick and it makes him think about reevaluating his plan.
However, just as Devon is about to leap into the fight himself, never being one to stand by when there is action going on, and as Vito tries to get past the purple haze covering the Ring, they are all stopped dead in their tracks for the who knows how many times tonight.
“What the–,” Devon says, skidding to a halt in between Remiel and Constantine, hitting a force field as concrete as a brick wall. “Oof!” he exclaims into the now eerie silence.
A really, really huge man with jet black hair and glowing green eyes has just appeared next to Tiamat, brandishing a sword shining so bright in the dark night it can only be magickal. It has a thin blade, which is pressed up against Tiamat’s throat, and Constantine recognizes it straight away with a telltale hiss.
He holds his arm out to stop Devon from getting any closer and they all watch intently, wondering what is going to happen next.
What happens next shocks Devon to his very core.
“Mother,” the giant of a man says. “Time for your reign of terror to end.”
“Mother?” whispers Devon.
“Dracul,” Constantine whispers back.
Devon gapes at him and then back to the action. They are arguing about something or another, it’s hard to tell, seeing as he doesn’t speak Dragon, and in the next moment Tiamat lets loose with the fireballs and they all du
ck.
But they aren’t aimed at the group of men. They are aimed straight at Dracul, who dodges the first one and flashes his sword, somehow swiping away the ball of pure magick with the blade. Dracul then lunges forward, gripping the hilt so tightly his white knuckles are clearly visible. The blade slices straight through Tiamat’s arm, which She has thrown up to block the thrust. Her shrieks are a cacophony of rage and pain and Devon claps his hands to his ears as he is brought to his knees by the sheer force of Her cries.
Dracul wastes no time in stabbing Tiamat straight through Her heart and She gasps, Her look of confusion and betrayal a mask of hideous beauty.
Devon watches absolutely astounded as Dracul buries the sword in so far it sticks out of Her back, the hilt pressed up tightly against Her chest. Her mouth opens and closes, like a goldfish, as the power of the sword starts to work its way through Her.
Devon can’t look away as She starts to wither and fade. She ages several millennia in a matter of seconds and then She crumbles to dust around the sword She is still impaled on, held by Her Dragon son and murderer.
A visible ripple passes over the Underworld as it loses its Empress. A haunting wind with the mournful cries of what can only be described as lost souls, assaults their senses, whipping around them, trying to drag them under.
Constantine staggers forward, his strength the only thing having kept him on his feet throughout this battle for power. Before he can utter a word, Dracul turns to them with a savage smile, which he tries to soften so as not to frighten them.
Bad fucking job.
Devon nearly wets himself under the intense green gaze of the man who has just killed – killed! – the most powerful being to have ever lived. He struggles to wrap his head around what just happened.
“My apologies,” Dracul rumbles out of his enormous chest. “That was a necessary action. I thank you for getting Her to Shift back. That has been way overdue.”
“No worries,” Devon mutters before he can stop himself.
Dracul fixes his eyes on him and he tries not to flinch. “Tell my sister it is safe to come home now. She will be bothered no longer.”
Devon nods his head dumbly.
“Is She really gone?” Constantine asks.
“Really gone,” Dracul confirms with a nod. “If you don’t mind, I will keep hold of this sword, though. Now that you have born witness to its true power, I feel it is safer with me.”
“Have at it,” Constantine says with a wave of his hand. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me,” Dracul says. “I did what was necessary. Please tell ValamAtrux I will see her soon.”