“You’ve got your shit in bucketfuls if you think that’s happening,” Finn answers cuttingly, while at the same time Ethan seethes, “Never.” His quiet defence of me takes me by surprise.
I wince at the sound of bullets firing behind me, making my ears ring.
“Have it your way,” says Eliza, raising her weapon so quickly and firing it at the slayer by my side that I hardly have time to register the move. “If you won’t hand her over then we’ll just have to take her.”
Whitfield laughs with wicked joy, levelling his cold eyes on Ethan.
My attention is on the wounded slayer, as I stare at him in shock. Eliza didn’t pull any punches. She shot him right in the heart. Undiluted anger spreads through me like a virus, encapsulating my every pore. Grabbing a stake out of Finn’s back pocket, I make to run at Eliza. With one hand holding his weapon Finn reaches out and grabs me back, shaking his head at my move before the vampires notice I was about to run at them in idiotic, suicidal rage.
Surprisingly, Delilah’s the first one on our side to make an attack. She aims her stake shooting projectile directly at the vamps before pulling a lever. The thing begins spinning around, shooting out stakes like a vampire killing machine gun. The sharp pieces of wood take down several vampires at once.
That’s when all hell breaks loose and both sides charge for one another. Finn advances at a steady pace, effortlessly shooting off arrows like it’s second nature to him. Rita spreads out both palms and releases the same light she’d thrown at Emilia earlier, only this time there’s no magic sparks to fight it off and it knocks the vampire she’d been aiming at unconscious.
Noreen, Alvie and Gabriel join hands, chanting a spell in unison. I recognise this one from my recent studies with Rita. It’s a glamour spell. They’re making sure that the fight out here on the road remains unseen by human eyes.
I can’t keep track of everyone else, but I’m vaguely aware of Ethan and Whitfield facing off with their swords. They don’t even seem worried about being hit with the vast array of projectiles that are currently flying all over the place.
Amid the carnage, all I can focus on is a head of honey blond hair and a mahogany silk dress. Nails as red as blood and high heels to match. She’s coming for me and something deep inside of me – something feral – can’t wait for the fight ahead. This ends here and now. One of us isn’t walking away and I’m going to try my hardest to ensure that person is Eliza.
Despite the weapons firing and the shouting going on around me, I can hear her loud and clear. She reaches up and runs a hand over the side of her face that I’d burned with my sparks.
“See how I’m all healed up?” she asks, a cruel smile on her mouth. “Your little trick didn’t keep me hurt for long.” She speaks to me casually, like we’re not standing several feet apart in the middle of a virtual battle field.
I lift my hand, letting my sparks run free. “Maybe I’ll leave a longer lasting mark this time,” I reply, doing my best to match her casual tone. She wants me to fear her, but I’m coming to learn that although I still fear vampires and what they could do to me, I myself am also something to be feared. I’m not a defenceless human. I’m the granddaughter of a sorcerer who is discovering new abilities each and every day. I can take Eliza. Good God I really hope I can take her.
“I’m going to pull out your heart and feed it to you,” she threatens.
“Has anyone ever told you you have issues?”
She swipes her claw-like hand at me and I back away. Okay, I’ve got a stake in my pocket and a razor in my hand, but
which to choose? Remembering that I now possess Finn’s knife fighting skills, I decide the blade is the safer option. Quick as a flash I flick it open again. I do so with a subtlety that doesn’t belong to me, it’s all Finn. I’m so fast that Eliza doesn’t even see me do it. She thinks I’m relying solely on my magic here.
Taking a chance, I lunge at her with the razor, slicing into her femininely muscled arm. She actually does a double take, as black blood drips down her bicep from the wound.
“Oh you stupid brave little monkey,” she seethes. “You’re going to pay for that. You will pay for every strike.”
Did she just call me a fucking monkey? Well now, that’s just not on. Pushing out all of the magic I can muster, I throw a lightning bolt of sparks and they burn right through her dress to singe her skin. She wails out in pain before diving at me and I jump away in surprise, falling to the ground with a painful thump. Before I know it she’s on top of me and my nostrils are filled with the scent of her lavender perfume. It’s so pungent it practically stings my sinuses.
One hand grips my throat, her nails digging into me and breaking the skin. I sense that I’m bleeding before I feel the pain, mostly because of the glazed look that comes over her eyes. It’s almost like my blood has her hypnotised. I take advantage of her momentary distraction to slice a gash down the exposed, burnt skin at her ribcage.
Her eyes widen at the attack and then they aren’t caramel anymore, all I can see is red, red, red. Her fangs jut out and she hisses at me like a python. I need to get the stake out of my pocket, but her entire body is pinning me down and it feels like she’s made from pure steel. I struggle beneath her, trying to get at my pocket, but it’s no use. One second her red eyes are eating me up and the next her fangs are slicing into my throat and all I can do is lie there as she ravages me – and not in a sexy way.
If I might explain. I used to think that vampires consumed blood in mouthfuls. But now that it’s happening to me I know that they can practically suck out litres within seconds. And right now each second feels like an eternity. I never knew blood loss could be so painful. Each and every part of me aches.
In the next moment she pulls away, and now her eyes aren’t red or caramel, they’re silver. In fact, her skin is turning silver too. Her body shakes and I can almost see her skin tightening –transforming. This is it. She’s taken my blood into her body and now she’s going to turn into a stronger vampire. An indestructible one. Just as she’s about to sink her fangs into me again, her shaking body is yanked away from me.
I look up to see Ethan standing above me, one hand clutching Eliza’s throat and the other pulling down hard on her hair. She’s weak because she’s still transforming, and Ethan keeps a hold of her easily. I feel helpless and weak too, unable to think. It’s only when Ethan locks his eyes with mine and commands, “Stake her,” that I realise what I need to do. Struggling to my feet, I reach inside my pocket and pull out the piece of wood.
Eliza tries to wriggle out of his grip, but he only yanks down harder on her hair and she cries out in agony. I hold Ethan’s eyes as my magic swirls inside my body, healing my blood loss. My strength resurges and I pounce on Eliza like an animal. I feel outraged that she drank from me. I’ve never felt more violently angry in my entire life. I’ve never felt more unlike myself, as though I’m some other scary person who is capable of killing so easily.
My voice doesn’t even sound like my own, when I say to her, “You did this. You dug your own grave. You could have walked away, but you didn’t and now it all ends here.”
I lock eyes with Ethan one last time, and he’s watching me with an all-consuming passion. With a force I didn’t know I was capable of wielding, I plunge the stake right into Eliza’s heart. Her silver eyes flash back to her their original colour and the silver that had started to tinge her skin vanishes. Her body slumps. I’m still holding the stake in my hand and I can feel the moment when her inhuman heart stops beating. Her body slips from Ethan’s grip and disintegrates.
We’ve all but forgotten about her now as we stare at one another. I’ve never killed before. I’ve thought about what it would feel like and the emotion I’d always associated it with was guilt. In this moment I don’t feel any guilt. I feel righteous. I feel indestructible. Our heated gaze is broken when we hear Whitfield letting out an almighty roar.
“Eliza!” he cries, speeding to the puddle of blackness at Ethan’s feet and swiping his hands through it as though that might bring her back. His red eyes lacerate me. “You killed her. Her blood is all over you.”