Children of Blood
Author: Nicholas Woode-Smith
Date: 2021-07-15 07:00:00+00:00
Description: The Blood Remembers... The Children of Blood, vampires more powerful than any I've faced before, have come for me and my friends. We haven't even been given a break since the last war! Barely a week has gone by since we defeated the last big baddie, and now the King of Blood and his crazy brothers want revenge for us killing the beasts he sent at us in the first place. Well, what else is new? This is Hope City. Home of magic, monsters and the apocalypse. They say that the Blood never forgets. But neither do I. My name is Kat Drummond, the Last Light of Hope City, and I will protect my home. Ch
Publisher: Independently published

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Copyright © 2021

Kat Drummond

All rights reserved

This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the prior written permission of the publisher and the copyright owner.

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Contents

Chapter 1.             War

Chapter 2.             Absolutism

Chapter 3.             Academics

Chapter 4.             Joy

Chapter 5.             Engagement

Chapter 6.             Love

Chapter 7.             Statement

Chapter 8.             Persona Non Grata

Chapter 9.             Distress

Chapter 10.Sacrifice

Chapter 11.Mole

Chapter 12.Bus

Chapter 13.Leadership

Chapter 14.Mortality

Chapter 15.Dusk

Chapter 16.Allegiance

Chapter 17.Void

Chapter 18.Regret

Chapter 19.Reprieve

Chapter 20.Rivalry

Chapter 21.Chaos

Chapter 22.The Blood Remembers

Chapter 23.Retribution

Chapter 24.Dawn

Chapter 25.Home

Afterword

Acknowledgements

ATTENTION

This book is a direct continuation of Cursed Earth, Book 12 of the Kat Drummond Series, but also of Blood Hunter: A Katverse Novel.

If you wish to truly appreciate this novel, I advise that you read both before embarking on this journey.

Enjoy!

Chapter 1.            War

War never ends. Even when you think you’re safe. Even when you have fired your last shot a lifetime ago, the echoes of war will persist within your head. And, even when all your comrades are long dead, they will continue to whisper to you. To remind you of your loss. To make you promise, again and again…

Never forget.

And never forgive.

I tore through the acrid alleys of this overgrown slum, bursting at the seams with poverty, sewage, and stench. It was like a blister, ready to burst. And within it was a bloody pus.

Something at the back of my mind flinched at the ever-present stench of burning rubber. The sign of a dirty weyline and dark magic. My instincts balked at it. But, I had long since grown to tolerate it. Being in the Corps, I had spent most of my life in the shadows. Where else was I to go?

The denizens of the dark took everything from me, including the light. So, I went into their domain. I breathed in the stench of dark magic. I lit the torch of my purifying fire. And I took everything from them in return.

I spun as I heard a clatter. I couldn’t tell if it was day or night. These tenements and shacks were built on top of each other as if they were designed by a kid with too many Lego pieces. Even if the sun shone above, I didn’t know if it could break through the structure above my head. This left the endless winding passages forever in darkness, lit only by the occasional lightbulb or candle.

My handheld floodlight would have come in handy. But I had dropped it earlier that evening (or would it be earlier that day?). It was a resilient piece of hardware, but a vamp’s claws were more potent. It hadn’t stood a chance.

I gritted my teeth as I heard more clattering behind me. Shadows darted in the distance. Black on black. Subtle. Almost invisible. Most people wouldn’t notice. But I wasn’t most people.

I was Corps.

I slowly reached towards my jacket pocket. I didn’t want to use this. Only had one left. But I’d rather be without it than dead.

Silence fell. No more clattering. I held my breath. The slums were never a relaxing place. When they were alive, they were raucous and unrelentingly chaotic. But, when silence fell, it was the uneasy stillness before the kill.

The silence you heard and felt within your bones as you knew a predator was stalking you from the shadows.

But, here’s the thing about the Corps. We’re prey, sure. And vampires are the apex predator. But, while they lick their lips and toy with us like cattle, we get ready. We sharpen our spears. We take aim. And we…thrust.

Silent, without any exertion, the shadow surged onto the wall and across the ceiling. Cloaked in darkness, a man with red eyes and a glistening fanged smile ran upside down, his footfalls not making a sound. Then, he leapt.

No sound. No breathing. Not fledgelings then. They had been vampires for a long time. They’d drained a lot of people of their blood. Killed people. Killed families. Like mine…

But, they wouldn’t kill me.

In a single movement, I pulled the flashbang out of my pocket, pulling the pin and shoved it into the airborne vamp’s mouth. Stunned before it even went off, the vamp went limp. Not too experienced then.

I grabbed the creature’s shoulder, using its momentum to throw it over mine, colliding with the shadows at my back, pressing in. Hisses broke the silence as the flashbang detonated. That’d give me a moment. All I needed.

I broke into a sprint, under no illusion that I could outrun a vamp, but knowing that I needed to find better terrain. To fight them on my own terms.

This hive was their turf. They had the advantage. But, they were also arrogant. Vamps were always arrogant. They would slip up. Because they didn’t know who I was. What I was. I liked to think that if they did, they would not have chased after me.

I rounded a corner, pressing a button on a device in my hand as I slammed it onto the corner wall.

Three, two, one…

An almost human scream reverberated through the halls, warped by the metal of the shanties, as the charge I set blew a hole through one of my pursuers.

One down. Not for long, probably. Vamps weren’t good at dying.

I hit the deck. I didn’t have any sort of rational observation suggesting that I should duck, but I’d learnt to trust my gut. My instincts were vindicated as a shard of dark energy put a fist-sized hole through a piece of corrugated iron just in front of me.

Just what I fucking needed! Vamps were one thing, but vamp mages were a whole other pile of shit.

I rose swiftly and renewed my sprint, darting and weaving as dark bolts flew towards me, hissing and crackling.

I needed to get to a good staging ground. Preferably, somewhere outside. If I could keep them on the run long enough, they’d start being distracted by the sun’s imminent rise. Would make them scared. Make them sloppy.

Too bad this blasted place didn’t have any semblance of order. I couldn’t even recall how I got in. Or how long ago I’d entered.

At a crossroads, I turned left, trusting my gut. The room was well-lit. That was something. Vamps could see in the dark. I couldn’t. Needed to even the playing field.

I skidded to a halt.

No, no, no…this couldn’t be right. My gut had told me to come this way. And there’d been no dead ends anywhere else. That was the thing about this hive. Every direction went on forever.

But, it seems I was wrong. Because I was staring at a concrete wall, lit up by the world’s most pointless fluorescent light.

I heard the footsteps. They weren’t trying to hide anymore. And they didn’t attack. They knew they had me cornered.

I heard whispering. A hissing laugh. And the smacking of lips and tongues. They approached slowly. I didn’t turn.

No more running. No more hiding. I had killed  half a dozen vampires in this slum. A half-dozen monsters who couldn’t hurt anyone else. My death would be a worthy consolation.

My only regret was that the Corps would lose another…

I spun, a silvered combat knife in my hand as a vampire loomed closer. It caught my wrist as if blocking the blow of a child and twisted. I winced, trying to hold on, but everyone has a limit. I dropped the knife.

Another vamp, face filled with rage that made it look almost human, strode up to me and punched me in the face, sending me reeling to the floor. I tasted blood.

“Don’t kill him!” the leader of the pack hissed. He held my knife, testing the edge. I saw smoke rise from where it touched his skin.

“Why, Moss? The fuck killed Laurie. Cut her up into little bits and left her out in the sun.”

“Did she heal enough to scream?” I asked, grinning.

The vampire’s fanged mouth hung open, before he lunged towards me. His boss grabbed him by his hoodie, pulling him back to collide with the wall behind him.

A third vamp piped up.

“Why we toying? She was your sister!”

Moss, the obvious leader, kept playing with my knife. His expression was blank.

“She drained a family dry,” I hissed. “What I did was too good for her.”

I heard the slap before I felt it. My vision swam as I was carried across the floor, gravel scraping my cheek. I felt myself being pulled up again.

“I don’t care what she fucking did,” Moss finally shouted, even as his impassive expression remained. He lifted me up by the scruff of my neck.

“You killed her. And that means I’m going to drain you. But not before you tell us who you are! You aren’t with the Crusaders or fucking Whiteshield. Who are you?!”

Despite the blurriness, the pain and the ringing in my ears, I smiled. I felt the sting on my teeth where they had been chipped.

“Taste my blood, monster. You’ll taste decades of sacrifice. Decades of hate. You’ll know what I’ve done. And you’ll know what I would have done to you. Drain me dry. I rejoin my brothers in death.”

Moss and the other vamps were stunned. The one who’d punched me took a step back, his red eyes wide.

“It can’t be…” the other whispered.

“One way to find out…” Moss hissed, and raked his clawed hands across my sleeve, ripping open the fabric.

12-2. A simple number tattooed over the image of a fanged skull, with a dagger through its head.

Moss dropped me. His impassive façade fell. His red eyes flickered, and he mouthed two words. He couldn’t even say them out loud. But I heard them in my head and in my heart.

Extermination Corps.

Gunfire boomed and rattled down the hall.

“What the fuck?” The other vamp swore, waking from his reverie.

Moss’ eyes widened. “Krang is still out there!”

He turned to me, angry, but with thinly veiled fear. He shivered.

“How many of you are there?”

Zero. The Corps was gone…

I grinned. “Endless…”

Golden fire flooded the room, its crackle punctuated by the deafening rattle of machine guns. The vamp at the back screeched as bullets eviscerated him.

Despite my wounds, I dove forward, tackling Moss to the ground, wresting my knife out of his hand.

“Take one alive!” a woman yelled over the cacophony.

I pressed the silver edge into Moss’ neck. He struggled but the more he did so, the deeper my silver went. I wanted to end him now. To not suffer a blood drinker to live…but I owed my saviours something. I kept Moss alive. For now.

The flames cleared.

Dark-grey figures, head to toe in tactical gear, with sword and shield emblems on their shoulders, filed into the room. The other vamps twitched on the ground. One lashed out towards one of the men. Calmly, the gunman put a bullet between the vamp’s eyes.

“Clear!” the gunman called. My eyes widened as I heard the long-lost voice of a ghost.

I’d heard that voice before. A long time ago. I had thought its owner was dead.

A woman wearing the tabard of Heiligeslicht entered, her fingertips resonating holy energy. But it was the person who entered after her that stunned me.

A young woman, with eyes of different colours, wreathed in flames.

I hadn’t been in Hope City for long, but half the world had heard of her.

The Last Light. Kat Drummond, in the flesh.

The Last Light turned towards me, squinted at the vampire I was grappling and then at the tattoos on my exposed arm.

“Krieg!” the gunman called, as he took off his helmet and mask.

My awe at seeing the Last Light in the flesh abated, as a voice I had last heard a lifetime ago called to me. I couldn’t help but beam in childlike, disbelieving delight, releasing my hold on the vamp. Luckily, the Crusaders, as I now knew these men and women to be, took my place.

“56! Rifts! I thought you were dead.”

I embraced my long-lost friend, holding tightly to ensure he wasn’t just a ghost.

“You too, brother.”

I frowned. Our parting had not been under the most peaceful of circumstances. I remembered sirens. Smoke, ash. Our leaders were betrayed. But they never betrayed us. They gave us time to flee. Time to live. They sacrificed themselves for the Corps. The way it had always been. The way it always would be.

56…Brett Callahan…released me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, examining his uniform. “Crusader? The hunt never ends for the Corps, no matter the name.”

Brett frowned, for just a second, before his smile returned.

“I’m a founding member. But that’s a whole other story. We can catch up after this…”

I turned to where Moss had been bolted to the concrete wall. The purifier with the scarred arms was incanting some sort of ritual to purify the steel bolts. Cheaper than silver.

“We can make this easy or hard,” the Last Light said, with a nonchalance that made her words even more terrifying. “Tell us what the Izingane Zegazi have planned, and we’ll let you go. Otherwise, we’ll stake you to the roof.”

“Izi…what do I fucking look like? A Zulu fucking bloodsucker? I’m as Hopean as you are!”

“Monsters don’t get to be citizens,” Brett growled, jiggling one of the purified bolts in the vamp’s hand. Moss winced and hissed.

The purifier scowled. “Well, technically…”

She shared a look with a black guy, who was currently sorting through various sharp implements, coated in silver. He shook his head and the purifier stopped talking.

“It’s an open secret that your little crew helps smuggle blood packs across the border,” the Last Light continued. “You work for the Children. We’ve got your photo plastered all over the planning boards at the office. Photos of you with Blood Cartel and Izingane Zegazi leaders.”

The Last Light leaned in closer. Close enough to be bitten. She didn’t flinch.

“We know who you are. We know what you are. And it’s only fair that you know who you’re dealing with.”

Moss spat a globule of blood onto the Last Light’s flaming coat. It erupted into wisps of steam.

“I know who you are,” Moss whispered, trying to be menacing. If not for a lifetime of fighting them, I might have been scared. “You’re the bitch who killed Terhoff’s toy boy. And then ashed her. The fucking Final Flight or whatever. I’m not scared of you.”

Brett stuck a dagger into the vamp’s gut without flinching. Moss screamed, as Brett covered his mouth, leaning in.

“You don’t need to be scared of her. But me…”

He revealed his 56-3 tattoo.

“I’m different. I can see that fear in your red eyes. You know what these numbers mean. You know what I’ve done. You don’t want to deal with me. Tell Ms Drummond what she wants to know, or you’ll have to talk to me and my friend over there.”

Brett indicated the black guy. With a straight face, he scraped two cleavers together, kicking up sparks.

“I’m not sure which one of us hates vamps more.”

“Enough,” the Last Light said, ushering Brett to the side. I smelled piss. Moss had a dark spot forming between his legs. Not blood.

It was fast, but I caught a glare from the Last Light. Brett backed off.

“Last chance,” she said. “Are the Izingane Zegazi in Hope City?”

“I…I don’t know…” Moss sobbed, pretending to be human.

“Do you know when they will be coming?”

“I don’t fucking know! Please…let me go.”

The Last Light’s flames seemed to darken alongside her expression.

She shook her head.

“You could be telling the truth,” she said. “But that won’t change the fact that you’re still smuggling blood from children’s hospitals to monsters across the border. That’s not something I can accept.”

She shared a look with the purifier. Grimly, the purifier nodded.

A curved sword, glistening silver, manifested in the Last Light’s hand. In a swift movement, she beheaded the vamp.

The black man stowed his kit of sharp implements, almost disappointed. Brett seemed to slump a little. The 56 I knew would have wanted to torture this creature more. It wasn’t just about information. It was about vengeance. But there was a chain of command here. Had to respect that.

The Last Light’s sword disappeared as quickly as it had shown up, as she turned towards Brett and me.

“So, Brett…going to introduce me?”

“Oh! Kat, this is Desmond…Krieg. He’s from my old squad.”

She frowned. What did that mean?

“The Corps?”

Brett nodded, a bit grimly. I shared the sentiment. We had fallen on hard times. It wasn’t a joyful thing to bring up.

I locked my feet together and saluted. “Last Light, it is an honour to meet you.”

It was quick, but I caught the Last Light rolling her eyes. “I have a name…”

“Ah, yes,” Brett continued. “This is Kat Drummond. She’s my girlfriend, and despite what she says, the Last Light of Hope City.”

My hearing zoned out as I heard girlfriend, even as possibly the most famous monster hunter of the southern hemisphere punched my old friend in the shoulder.

***KAT***

History always finds a way of rearing its ugly head. What you think is done is never truly done. And, while you may want to forget the past, looking ever onward, you will often be forced to look back.

I couldn’t stop staring at the numbers on Krieg’s arm, and the garish tattoo beneath it. It made me thankful that Brett had never gotten anything so obvious. The numbers were enough. Perhaps, too much.

Brett took Krieg aside to introduce to Guy, as Cindy oversaw the Crusaders clearing out the vamp corpses.

I didn’t like this sort of work. Vampires spoke. They had rights, according to the Spirit of the Law, at least. But these vamps were criminals. True monsters. I wouldn’t lose too much sleep over slaying a monster who sold kid’s blood.

But still…it wasn’t what I wanted to be doing on a Wednesday…Thursday…night.

We’d been tracking leads every day. The Izingane Zegazi were coming. That much was certain. They’d told us so, with their dying breaths after the Battle of the Betrayers. That’s what the Council-sponsored media was calling the final confrontation between the Crusaders and the Necro Lord that had torn apart the city. They were still bitter about the cops, Whiteshield and soldiers who had mutinied to do the right thing. Didn’t matter a stitch to the Chairman that we’d saved the city.

But that was ancient history. Well, week-ago history.

It was still so fresh. All of it. And most of all, the man who had killed my parents had been in my apartment. He’d strangled Treth. And then disappeared into nothingness.

Between investigating how by the Rifts he’d done that, preparing for the oncoming Izingane Zegazi attack and trying to keep monsters from devouring the city, the Crusaders had been stretched really thin.

I hadn’t worked so hard in years! Gone were the privileges of being the boss. I was working almost every waking moment, reserving four to six hours for sleep. We’d lost a lot of good men at the Battle. Even with the newbies, we were all pulling triple shifts to patrol this blasted city.

And all our off time was reserved for preparing for the inevitable attack.

The Izingane Zegazi. Children of Blood. The feudal vampire clans of the Zulu Empire. Officially, they were vassals of the Zulu Emperor. But, in reality, they only answered to themselves, forming a vast network of monstrous vampiric sires and fledglings that could communicate through some rudimentary hive mind. It was terrifying!

All we really knew was that they wanted Guy, Brett’s best friend and likely one of mine now, dead. As well as me, I guess.

But the thing is: I’m really bad at dying too.

Treth, the ghost inside my head, manifested in front of me, inclining his head towards the Corpsman named Krieg. Of the people here, only Cindy and I could see him.

Krieg looked a lot like Brett, just with blonde hair and a thick, lemony stubble. Actually, they didn’t look alike at all if I described it like that. Besides their muscly, combat-hewn physiques, they were very different. All except the look in their eyes. The way they moved. The way they spoke to each other now.

Treth sensed my trepidation. Couldn’t hide much from him.

I was glad to see Brett happy. Honest! I hadn’t seen him this genuinely pleased in a long time. He’d thought his comrade dead. And now, to be able to introduce his new best friend to what seemed his old best friend…it was everything to him.

But…the Corps wasn’t good for him. It was his family, sure. But it was also a cult and genocidal death squad.

Brett had been different this past week, since we started preparing for the Izingane Zegazi attack in earnest. He was always different when vampires were involved. It changed him.

Vampires had killed his family, that much I knew. And afterwards, he had been raised in a paramilitary group as a child soldier, dedicated to exterminating them and other non-humans.

Vampires brought out the worst in Brett. They stopped him from thinking things through. And they turned him into a cold, killing machine.

I loved him. Dearly. And I didn’t want to see these monsters make him into something else. Something consumed purely by hate. I’d seen what it had done to Finley, his mentor. I didn’t want it to happen to him.

But, with these vampires coming at us, we didn’t have much time to see a therapist.

Seeing that everything was being taken care of without me, I left this confined slum room and its sickly stench of burning flesh. My flaming coat enjoyed the scent, but my tastes were much more refined. Or less, depending on who you asked.

I exited the room and found myself alone in the dimly lit hallways of this quagmire of a slum-sprawl.

Treth leaned against the wall alongside me.

“You’re worried about this Corpsman,” he said.

I nodded. No use lying to Treth.

“You can’t deny the Corps in Brett, Kat. It was his life. Still is, to some degree. It was going to catch up to him eventually. You should be pleased that at least one of the happier things from his past is still alive to bring him joy.”

I considered my ghost’s words. They were surprisingly deep. I chuckled.

“You doing a psychology degree, Mr Avicin? You could use me for your pro bono work. Could make a good therapist. Athena knows I need one!”

He grinned, but I saw a hint of a blush on his pale, translucent cheeks. He was very bashful for a dead man.

But, the surprise at my usually socially inept companion making a good point faded. I sighed.

“I’m worried that he’ll remember. Sure, the good parts, but also the bad parts. That he’ll become someone I don’t know. Someone so consumed by hate that he forgets what we should be fighting for.”

“It took me a long time to warm up to Brett. So, take it from me, his biggest detractor. Brett is a good guy. He will change. We all do. But, he will still be the person you love.”

I couldn’t help but smile. Just a little. Treth had matured so much lately. Probably Gorgo’s influence. Or perhaps not. He’d gone through a lot. That aged someone. And he had died like twice already. That had to bring some sort of wisdom!

But despite his comforting words, I still felt uneasy. Well, what else was new?

I clicked my tongue, irritably.

“At least this raid accomplished something. The lead was a bust. Just more vamp gangers who don’t know a thing.”

“You removed a blight on the world. That’s worth something.”

“I could remove a thousand blights by marching into the necro-states in Central Africa and purging all the undead. We need proper results. I want to get this Izingane Zegazi nonsense out of the way so we can focus on…”

For some reason I couldn’t say it. As if saying it confirmed the reality of the situation. That the man who had done this to me, who had killed my parents, who had corrupted Candace…had been in my home.

I shook my head.

“I had hoped they would attack almost immediately. At least then we’d have had the good will of the city. Now, the longer we wait, the more time the fucking Chairman has to convince everyone we’re some evil monopoly fabricating the crimes in this city.”

I clenched my fists, feeling the cold concrete of the wall on my skin.

Most of all, I wanted this to be over. To eliminate the vamps coming after my friends. To kill the Mentor. And to get back to what I loved – protecting people for a paycheck. It would help if the government stopped trying to get in my way.

I heard Brett and Krieg speaking animatedly as they exited the room.

“Kat,” Brett beamed, an expression that melted away a lot of my anxiety already. “Krieg has been living in the gutter. We’ve got space for him at the HQ, right?”

“Of course.”

No argument there. Housing hunters was basically part of the job.

Krieg saluted. “Thank you, Last…Kat. I would also like to apply to the Crusaders. To serve and purge.”

I nodded, as Brett and Krieg dismissed themselves, renewing their discussion of old, bloody times.

Another Corpsman in the Crusaders? I didn’t know what to think about that. But, I couldn’t really refuse.

Chapter 2.            Absolutism

Another night on the hunt meant another night without sleep. We left the stenching carcass of this vampire-infested warren and were promptly greeted by the sun breaking through the slum’s smog covering. The fresh morning chill was almost enough to penetrate through the rubbery fumes of the dark weyline. Almost.

I half held my breath as we entered our vehicles. Masked Crusaders, carrying assault rifles, guarded the parked convoy. Even at this early hour, a crowd had gathered. They didn’t cheer or boo us. But I saw some shake their heads.

The sentiment of the slums was always unusual. We had killed the Necro Lord. Eliminated their overlord and practically freed them from the blight of a necromantic warlord. But, we had also killed many of their brothers, fathers and children while doing so.

Gangsters and necromancers, no matter their actions, were still human. They had families and friends. Even the most evil man leaves a mourner.

I took my place on the passenger seat of Brett’s old van. It had survived the Battle. Apparently, some enterprising Crusaders had hotwired it and used it to mow down swathes of undead. Brett wasn’t even angry. And we’d taken precautions to prevent anyone less desirable from hotwiring the van in the future.

I stared at the rear-view mirror as Krieg took a seat alongside Cindy. I sensed her suspicions. Had known her long enough. But she was good at hiding them. She smiled at the Corpsman and buckled her seatbelt.

“Where’s Guy, Cins?” I asked.

“Chasing another lead,” she answered, impassively. But I saw a slight twitch of her lips. She didn’t like it.

“He’ll be fine!” Brett said, taking his seat and waiting for the lead car in the convoy to get a move on.

“Oh, I’m sure of that,” she replied, but she still frowned.

But he should still take back up, was the unspoken addition. Should still take me.

I didn’t blame Cindy for her fear. Her fiancé was capable. More than capable. But he often tried to carry the world on his shoulders. Perhaps, a bit like me. At least I always had Treth to speak to about it. I’m not sure Guy had an invisible companion to act as his cosmic therapist.

But, if he wanted to pursue this lead alone, we couldn’t stop him.

The lead car started moving and Brett powered up the van to follow. The radio blared to life as the van did, playing an inappropriately upbeat pop song for this time of day. Before we could change the station, the ditty for the news played. Brett reached for the dial, but I held my hand out to stop him.

He didn’t want me to hear this. But I knew I had to. He couldn’t protect me from this.

“In the news today, Chairman Riaan Haggenort has once again presented his proposal to the Lower Council to investigate the Crusader’s Monster Hunting Agency for antitrust violations,” the newscaster recited, monotone and impassive, before the audio changed to a raucous recording of the Lower Council. Shouting and muttering drowned out a lead voice before being silenced. The Chairman spoke.

“The dissolution of Puretide into the Crusaders is tantamount to forming a monopoly. How can we expect to maintain fair competition in the spirit of the Monster Hunting Act if we only have two firms carving the city up between themselves? These hunters exploit the citizenry, demanding pay from desperate victims. The only thing keeping them in check was each other. But now…”

The recording muffled and cut off. Seems the radio presenters got bored.

“Chairman Haggenort,” the news presenter continued, with the excitement of a moist towel. “Has become as divisive a figure as the Last Light herself, whom he has vowed to bring to justice for her participation in what he calls the Battle of the Betrayers. Listeners may recall that Kat Drummond, better known as the Last Light, saved the city from Loviatar and the Fae Flu last year. But, Kat Drummond hasn’t been without detractors, the most famous of all being the Chairman himself. In other news…”

I zoned out as the news shifted to discussing the centaur race results. Nothing about the rebuilding effort.

I looked at the window, watching swathes of broken homes, craters in the roads and bloodstains still not completely scrubbed away. The Necro Lord had cut a bloody path towards us. If only Riaan had not gotten in his way. Perhaps then we could have concentrated the violence to around the HQ. Or not. Perhaps, there was no way of stopping the Necro Lord from hurting so many people.

That’s the problem with caring about people. They can be hurt.

Riaan never plucked up the courage or the decency to speak to me after the battle. Sure, it had only been just over a week. But still. Hadn’t even heard from Agent Phillip Brown of Foreign Affairs. Not that I minded that in the least.

I had expected some sort of call, if nothing else. I’d saved this city more times than I cared to count. I led the only hunter agency still patrolling the streets! Drakenbane was too concerned with big game to worry about small fry beasts. No matter if those beasts were just as capable of slaughtering a family. Someone had to protect the people!

Oh yeah, but that was apparently exploitation. We were evidently meant to lay down our lives for free! As if the cops and army fought without pay.

I felt a hand on my knee. Brett squeezed my leg. I gave him a look and a small smile to let him know I was okay. He was getting too good at recognising when I was in a bad space. Well, since catching the Mentor in my apartment, I’d been in nothing but a bad space.

It really didn’t help that the uneasy alliance I had with the government had turned sour. The cops and soldiers who had joined me to defend the city had been branded traitors and fired. The courts were packed with trials. Fortunately, no hunters. We were within our rights to face down the darkness of the city. It was a different story for public sector employees.

I didn’t know I’d ever be having sympathy for some cops. But, here I was. And I’d made it clear to every one of them that there was always a place among the Crusaders for them. That had then made its way into the papers. Riaan accused me of wanting to build a paramilitary to take over the city. At this point, maybe I was!

His biggest accusation, however, was that Puretide died with Edward Taragon. And, as a result of that, most of his men joined the Crusaders. While Puretide and the Crusaders hadn’t merged, he was trying to accuse us of antitrust violations. Of forming an oligopoly alongside Drakenbane. It’s as if he wanted us to leave brave hunters out on the streets!

The courts had thrown out his accusations, so he’d brought it to the legislature. Jane was keeping me apprised of the situation. Frankly, I didn’t care. I had bigger things to worry about. Things with teeth sharper than Riaan fucking Haggenort.

We turned off the highway and back into the lusher side of Hope City. At least, it was lush before the Necro Lord’s onslaught. In the fires and warfare of the Battle, buildings had been destroyed by towering necro-golems, fires had spread and incinerated parks, and many people had lost their lives and livelihoods.

As we turned down a suburban road, our pace was slowed by crowds leaving their homes at the sight of the convoy. Their shouts were muffled by the windows of the vans, but their expressions said enough.

A boy of no older than twelve threw a brick at the car in front. It bounced off the reinforced and enchanted hull. Good thing for him. I realised I had a lot more patience than many of my colleagues. If that brick had gone through the windshield, I’m not sure that I’d have been able to stop the reprisals.

“We don’t need this,” Brett hissed, through gritted teeth. His knuckles whitened on the steering wheel.

We really didn’t. The only time the Crusaders were left alone was when a scarier monster was around to chase away the protesters.

Jane claimed that the entire city hadn’t turned on us. That “Last Light” still meant something. But public sentiment had definitely turned on us in the places that the Necro Lord had destroyed. Unfortunately, that was a large swathe cutting its way directly around our headquarters.

It didn’t help the PR war at all that Crusaders, traumatised and angered by the Battle, were being verbally and physically hounded by protesters. They were men and women of violence, so they snapped back. Well, I wish. They were not little dogs, yapping at the people throwing shit at them. They were wolves. And they bit. Already, protesters had been put in the hospital. Fortunately, there hadn’t been any arrests. Yet. But I had a bad feeling that it was just a matter of time before someone did something we’d all regret.

We finally turned into Observatory. Buildings lay in ruins, still surrounded by barbed wire and the barricades we’d hastily erected for the battle. We were still rebuilding. But, with all that was going on, our focus was generally elsewhere.

We turned a corner, facing the pile of rubble that was once the Gravekeeper Tavern. I felt a twinge of sadness. I’d spent a lot of time at the Gravekeeper. It had been Conrad Khoi’s office – my introduction to the big leagues. And the Crusaders had met there every Friday. That is, until a necro-golem crushed it and undead devoured the owner.

My attention soon shifted from the ruins of my favourite pub to the wall of people standing outside the HQ. They held signs, and the muffled shouting sounded like chanting.

The convoy slowed, as Brett swore. Definitely not what we needed! We’d need to call the cops and, depending on what Riaan had told dispatch, they may not come to help.

From here, I could see the contents of some of the placards.

“Why didn’t you save my son?”

“You destroyed my home!”

And many more simply stating:

“You brought death!”

I sighed. I was too tired to feel guilt. And I had long since been schooled by all those I loved, including the voices inside my head, that you could not take the blame for the actions of evil. I fought the Necro Lord. He brought himself here.

Brett stopped the van. We’d be here for a while. At least, we thought so.

A wave of people was suddenly pushed back, colliding into each other as an invisible force shoved them back.

“Oh, fucking Rifts!” I swore, hastily opening the door, catching myself on the seatbelt and letting Treth disengage it before sprinting towards the HQ.

Shouting filled my ears as another wave of protesters were shot back. Many left standing were starting to run. My coat didn’t like them and singed quite a few as they brushed past me.

As I feared, standing in the middle of the road, surrounded by the prone, dazed protesters, was a man in a tiger-print gi, his fists held to his side, his legs apart, as he prepared another shockwave.

Once upon a time, Kyong was one of the calmest among us. An immovable rock in a storm. In every fight, he’d be an unfazed, powerful juggernaut.

But, we’d all changed.

Kyong swayed a bit as a protester charged him. I saw the warping around his fist. My hair stood on end as I felt the primal energies gathering.

I dive tackled the protester before Kyong could do something we’d all regret.

The protester, a young guy wearing a UCT branded hoodie, struggled underneath me. I pulled him up by the hood and stared him in the eyes.

“I just saved your life, shithead. Run.”

He looked angry. The type of rage you get from some moron with more ideals than sense. But he gained some rationality as he was suddenly surrounded by black clad Crusaders, pushing back the protesters. I let him run.

I turned towards the Tiger Fist. He swayed again, his face red. The crackle around his fist dissipated. He smelled like a medicine drawer.

“Inside, Kyong!” I yelled, anger at him almost killing a civilian mingling with the sickening feeling that I wished he had.

He looked close to arguing, but I turned the Kat death glare to full throttle. It helped that the crowd had gone still, creating an ominous silence punctuated by the crackling of my coat’s fire.

Henri, our one-eyed sniper, and Brett took Kyong by his arms, pulling him back into the HQ. Crusaders, many who had worked all night, fell in behind us, preventing reprisals from the protesters.

“They don’t understand,” Kyong muttered. “What we do for them. They spit on our comrades. They spit on him!”

I shared a look with Heather. A storm cloud seemed to hang over her head, as she held her naginata like she was about to use it. Fortunately, she followed us inside.

Brett and Henri surrendered Kyong to Cindy, who led him further into the HQ.

“They mustn’t have died for nothing!” Kyong screamed, as I saw a golden glow emanating from Cindy’s fingers, as she purged the alcohol in his system. They disappeared into the medical ward.

A crowd of black and dark-grey clad figures had formed within the hall. Expectant. I didn’t have to wonder how many felt the same as Kyong.

But, I had to be a voice of reason.

Alex winded his way between the legs of my comrades, alongside a striped, orange cat. Mr Mittens. He had belonged to Hammond. The famous cat he had liberated from his ex-wife. Heather now cared for him. And as Heather had now moved into the HQ, so had Mr Mittens.

Alongside some stray cats who had moved in, we were basically running a feline day care. Duer said that the cats were keeping out dark spirits or some such nonsense, but truthfully, I didn’t mind the extra mouths to feed. Cats were nice.

Brett sidled up to me, holding my shoulder. The flames didn’t harm him.

“Don’t blame Kyong, please. He’s taken it hard. Harder than most.”

I nodded. I knew that. Kyong blamed himself for Hammond dying. He’d even gotten it into his head that it was his fault Busani had died. Because he wasn’t strong enough.

When he wasn’t lifting ungodly large weights or practicing his forms, he was drinking till the fumes from his mouth could kill a troll. Because, more often than not these days, he was convinced that his power would never be enough, so he drank himself into oblivion.

“He didn’t go far enough,” Heather growled, still holding her polearm like she was ready for combat. “I’d have skewered the bastards.”

“And you’d have been arrested, and the Crusader rep tarnished even more,” Jane Phoenix interjected, calmly.

“I don’t want to hear that from a glorified receptionist!” Heather snarled, as if she had been turned into a werewolf by Trudie.

Jane’s face didn’t betray what she thought about that.

I stepped between them, holding my arms out diplomatically.

“Everyone needs to calm down! I know these protests are getting on our nerves, and I know we don’t deserve them. But we can’t go beating them up, or Athena forbid, skewering them. We’re meant to be protecting them!”

“Why should we protect the people who hate us?” Heather replied, coldly.

She’d also changed after Hammond died. Killing the Necro Lord hadn’t helped her. Nothing would. Gone was the timid girl who couldn’t decide to call me by my name or title. Heather was an angry, jaded killer now.

“It doesn’t matter if they hate us,” I replied, quieter, as if I doubted my own words. But I tested them in my heart and looked to Treth. He nodded.

I looked up, staring Heather and all the other Crusaders in the eyes.

“It doesn’t matter if they hate us! What matters is that we have a job to do. We protect them because it’s the right thing to do. If they want to spit on us, then that’s their problem. We’ve done the right thing. And that’s what matters!”

Heather looked down, alongside a few of the others. Treth smiled, proudly. But there was still doubt in the ranks.

“But, before any of that,” I added. “We protect each other. We’re a family. Don’t forget that. Now get back to the hunt!”

Jane moved her way towards me as the hunters dispersed. She didn’t need to speak, as I noticed a familiar face across the hall, waiting patiently for the hunters to clear.

Miriam LeBlanc, possibly the world expert in vampires, nodded to me from across the hall, and then made her way upstairs.

Chapter 3.            Academics

“An inspiring speech, Ms Drummond. You’ve changed.”

I examined my one-time employer and lecturer. She wore an all-black pantsuit, contrasting with her pale skin and silvery hair. Miriam LeBlanc looked like the vampires she studied. Brett had once called it an unconscious imitation of her subject matter.

I’d met Miriam what seemed an age ago. She lived in the old Tokai Manor. The famously haunted Tokai Manor. Well, it had been before I exorcised the place. In doing so, I’d earned Miriam as a friend and mentor. She had helped me with a bunch of vampire-related cases and provided me with information over the years.

I shook hands with my old friend.

“And you haven’t changed at all.”

“Flattery won’t get you far, my girl! I feel older every day. And, unlike my test subjects, I do look it.”

I couldn’t see it. I subtly looked towards Treth. He shrugged. Well, no use arguing.

I sat down in my office chair, newly repaired and barred windows overlooking the rubble of the Gravekeeper Tavern. My wakizashi, liberated from the Necro Lord, was displayed on my desk. I sometimes used it but having Ithalen available at a moment’s notice made carrying physical blades a bit of an inconvenience. Besides, it still stank of dark magic. Cindy said I was imagining it but understood why I kept the blade at arm’s length. It had been used to commit evil. That didn’t make it evil, but it still corrupted it, in a way.

Before I could stop myself, I sighed. My body collapsed into the cold leather. I just wanted to sleep.

Miriam frowned. But, rather than judgement, for I knew Miriam could be very judgemental, I saw sympathy.

“It must be an exhausting thing, carrying the world on one’s shoulders.”

“Probably. I carry the lives of dozens of my men and half this city on mine. Not the world, but it’s pretty stressful.”

My eyes were heavy. As much as I enjoyed Miriam’s company, she was as smart as they could get and witty too, I should be sleeping.

“What brings you here, Professor?” I asked, simply.

“Just doctor, now. I followed your example and left that toxic accolade-collecting swamp of vapidity and pretension. But call me Miriam. I abhor titles.”

I smiled, faintly. A woman after my own heart.

She leant back in her chair, as the door opened and a lady wearing an apron and carrying a tray of tea and snacks entered.

She had worked at the Gravekeeper. Only right that we hired her. The Crusaders still mourned their pub. The owner and staff had been family. Still were.

“Thanks, Debra,” I said, adding a genuine smile. I had hoped for coffee, but tea was better for my anxiety. Ugh, I sound like an old woman!

Debra left and closed the door behind her.

Miriam accepted the tea, sniffed it and blew on it to cool, before leaning back again and crossing her legs.

“I heard through the grapevine that your little outfit has pissed off the Izingane Zegazi.”

“The grapevine is petty talkative. How did you find out?”

No use hiding it from Miriam. Only reason we were keeping it under wraps in general was that we didn’t want to panic the newbies. And attract more flak from the Council.

Miriam looked somewhat offended. “Professor or not, I am a world renowned vampiric loremaster. I wrote my master’s on the Izingane Zegazi. And, for how I know this, you have been pretty active in your crusades of late. It has eliminated a lot of my test subjects, and made the survivors talk.”

Miriam’s fascination with vampires was always particularly odd. One would think her expertise would suggest a love of vampires, but she would just as easily dissect one alive as she would have tea with another. Brett couldn’t place her. I didn’t try.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to disrupt your work. Truth be told, we haven’t been thinking things through much. We’ve been chasing unreliable leads. Just trying to find something.”

Miriam dismissed the apology with a hand wave.

“No need to apologise about slaying some gangsters and Blood Cartel leftovers. What does offend me is that you didn’t come to me first. I know you’ve read my paper on the Children. I examined you on it!”

I winced. She was right. I should have gone to her. I was kicking myself that I hadn’t.

“My mind has become swiss cheese, Miriam. You’re right. I should have contacted you as soon as we found out. But, kinda been living hunt to hunt. Not much time for thinking.”

“Has it ever not been like that for you?” she asked, raising her eyebrow. Genuinely curious.

I considered the question and shook my head.

“Consideration is not something we often get time for in this line of work. You stop to think, you lose your prey. You hesitate on the strike, you get bit.”

I snorted.

“Rifts, the last time I got a holiday was probably Avathor.”

“You almost died!” Treth gasped.

Details! At least I got some fresh air and quiet.

I realised that Miriam was frowning. Deeply. It was a weird look on her. Vampires usually looked apathetic. Or hungry. This made Miriam look more human. And I could now see her age. Made me sad, actually. I liked to think of her as vampiric, in a way. Ageless. An enigma. But, my ageless and mysterious friend. These wrinkles and this frown meant she was mortal.

“You should find time to relax, Kat. Calmness is good. It’s needed. There’s too much darkness in the world for anyone to fight endlessly and alone.”

“But somebody has to fight,” I replied, instinctively. Grimly. It was a mantra I repeated to myself every day. When I woke up. When I went to sleep. A constant voice inside my soul.

“And besides,” I continued. “Even if I took a holiday and let the others handle things, the darkness seems to follow me around.”

“Oh, it doesn’t follow you, Kat. The darkness is everywhere. It’s easy to think that we’re special. That it is targeting us in particular, but that’s nonsense. While you face vampires here in Hope City, the Shroud is decimating Canada, oni devour Nippon and sea serpents bash away at the Hawaiian barrier. Evil is everywhere. But, so is good. So are heroes, like you. You can afford to let other people pick up the sword and shield, for once.”

“Perhaps,” I spoke quietly. “But not yet. Not for a while. Darkness is everywhere, true. But this darkness in particular doesn’t like me very much. And I can’t take a nap till I put it down.”

Miriam took a long sip of her tea, and then smiled.

“Well, let’s help expedite that nap then. Here’s what I know about the monster of the week. The Children of Blood. The Izingane Zegazi. Better known by our boys at the border as “those fucking freaks with the red eyes”. You know the basics. And probably more if you remember my paper. They’re the enemy. The Empire’s assassins and elites. But they play by their own rules. The Emperor is just a convenient way to keep the peasants in line for them. But, even though they’re probably the most famous band of vampires in the southern hemisphere, we don’t know much about them.”

She took another sip. I leant back in my chair, holding back exhaustion as the lecture continued. I hoped Treth was taking notes.

“Don’t worry, Kat,” she continued. “I’m not going to tell you stuff you could find on the internet. I’ve got some theories and secrets to share.”

She leaned in closer, inviting me to lean forward too.

“I traced back the blood lineages of the Children. Took me most of my life, but I think I’m done. It’s commonly believed that every Child is related to the same primogenitor, and this may be true, but I suspect that this primogenitor is not of this world.”

“Well, duh. Vampires aren’t exactly native to Earth.”

“Cut the snark, Drummond. You’re writing a test on this. And a passing grade is the difference between victory or getting ghoulified. Of course, all vamps on Earth either originated across the In Between or were turned by one. But there’s something interesting about the Children. They all bear the same blood. What they call “The Blood”. But their sires differ.”

I raised my eyebrow at that. A sire was basically the parent in a vampire relationship. Different sires should be different blood. Like how a different father would mean different genes for a human.

“So, the sires are related?” I offered.

“Exactly. And this is where the theories start.” Miriam’s eyes lit up. She loved theorising. She’d have made a great conspiracy theorist Pre-Cataclysm. Now, she made an even greater scholar.

“The story they tell us is that the founding brothers of the Izingane Zegazi are not real brothers but were sired separately and found each other to form the vampire clans. But this is a deception. While their powers differ, there is a similarity in lineage between the fledglings of every brother. Which suggests a common ancestor. This would also explain the widespread connection to the Blood.”

She shook her head and grinned smugly, as if she’d uncovered the location of Atlantis. “Rather, I suspect that the four founders of the Izingane Zegazi are true vampires, all born of an even truer vampire. One like the vampiric god that you banished a lifetime ago.”

A lifetime was only a few years. It felt like a lifetime.

“The public story of the founders suggests that they were humans,” I countered. “And they look human. Well, as much as a vampire can look human.”

“A ruse,” Miriam replied. “I followed up on at least two of their stories. And they don’t add up. The mysteriously vanished Nkosi Kuzalwa Igazi claimed that he fought in the Struggle for the IFP. There are no such records of his involvement. I’ve interviewed top IFP members. They swear they have never heard of him. That it was a front to legitimise him for the Imperial Court. For his alleged brother, Umbhubhisi Igazi, the story is even thinner. He claims royal lineage, but the Zulu imperial family keeps extensive records of such matters. A pretender to the throne is not uncommon, but he claims the lineage without the claim to power.”

“There seems to also be a common theme among them,” I offered. “They all fancy themselves as quite important. If they had told us they were a plumber and a retiree before being turned, we’d probably not have suspected them.”

Miriam nodded and smiled, satisfied that I was convinced about her theory. And it was convincing. True vampires didn’t need to be turned. They were originals. Proper monsters. Not just victims who’d become blood-hungry psychos. They were harder to humanise. Which explained why the Children’s founders tried so hard to hide their origins.

“You said that Kuzalwa Igazi is dead? How?”

“I said mysteriously vanished. Nobody knows how. Well, the Children tried to hide their theories, but I have my ways. They say that the last thing the vampire lord saw before he died was a Xhosa warrior called a Blood Hunter. But things grow blurry after that. Not sure what he or she did to slay Kuzalwa. But I can tell you about his confirmed living siblings.”

I nodded. As much as I’d like to know how the one brother had died, knowing more about the survivors would definitely help.

“First, Umbhubhisi. A hot head, by all accounts. Even the repressed imperial press has been unable to hide his debauchery. Loves to pillage villages. And wants to make a statement. Doesn’t like to hide. Only fitting that it seems he is one of the few vampires who has manifested the ability to resist sunlight.”

“What?!” I gasped. “That’s impossible.”

Miriam nodded, gravely. “Trust me, Kat. When it comes to vampires, anything is possible. I have photos of Umbhubhisi in broad daylight. Fangs, red-eyes, and all. And enough witnesses attest to the fact that he is a vampire. He has many fledgelings. Apparently, some share his unique traits”

I couldn’t help but grind my teeth and pick at my pants. Often, the only way to get rid of a vamp for sure was the sun. Having vamps that could survive the sun meant we’d have to get creative with slaying them, and that we weren’t safe during the day.

“Next up is Ukwesaba,” Miriam continued. She frowned immediately. “We don’t know much about him, sadly. Just that he was the guy who almost broke Goldfield before the Corps. Some say he feeds off fear, but I don’t entertain such unscientific notions. What I do know is that he waged a terror campaign on Goldfield, the likes of which the continent has never seen before. Families dead. Communities depopulated.”

I resisted gulping. This lecture wasn’t helping my nerves. I looked to Treth. He was taking notes on a spectral parchment.

“Nkosiyabo is the last one. He seemed to be the closest to Kuzalwa. Both of them tried the most of the four to seem human. Kuzalwa, less so, as he led many troops into massacres without batting an eye, but at least he let himself be seen. And seldom manifested any sort of mutations. Nkosiyabo, by contrast, keeps his hands clean. Unlike his siblings, he claims to have been just a peasant farmer. But, I suspect that this comparable humility reveals a power far greater than the others.”

I let Miriam drink the rest of her tea, contemplating her words, before I said anything else.

“I think you can guess my question,” I finally said. “How do we beat them?”

“I am no strategist,” Miriam said, sounding disappointed. “But, I do have an idea. The Izingane Zegazi are deeply feudal. They relish in criss-crossing loyalties, vassalage, fealty and stuff that makes the Holy Roman Empire look positively progressive. The brothers revel in blood, glory and personal gain above all. I said that Kuzalwa and Nkosiyabo were the closest of the four. That means they have been seen together in public once before. Despite claiming to be comrades and brothers, the four hardly ever speak to each other from what we know. And they never work together. They usually act alone, using their own fledglings and ghouls to carry out their campaigns. In short, they don’t like to share.”

I rubbed my chin, thoughtfully. And smiled.

“Divisions in their ranks…that’s just what I want to hear. And it’s something we can use. Especially if they only come one at a time, or better yet, sabotage each other. Rifts, maybe only one of them will show!”

“Oh, I doubt that, Kat. There’s something the Children all do have in common. While they will wage their wars by themselves and won’t share even a drop of blood, they take vengeance all too seriously. Don’t doubt for a second that they will come. And, when they do, their force will be relentless. You will need to kill them all before they stop.”

Dozens…hundreds of vampires. And our only advantage was that they didn’t like sharing blood. Unfortunately, Hope City had enough to go around.

I stood up as Miriam did, offering my hand. She shook it.

“Thanks for the tea,” she said.

“Thank you for the information, as always. I’m sorry I didn’t contact you sooner.”

She shrugged. “It’s nothing. And I won’t be staying a stranger. I’m leveraging my entire network to help you. It’s about time that the Izingane Zegazi are removed. I have a family home in Port Elizabeth I’ve been wanting to visit again. Need to remove the vampires to get there.”

I smiled and bid her farewell.

I wanted to think that her information would make rest easier. That dispelling the myth behind the monsters and finding some weakness comforted me. But I didn’t sleep a wink, until Brett came to find me for another hunt.

Chapter 4.            Joy

Slaying the undead didn’t put me in a good mood. That worried Treth. Usually, hunting undead was cathartic. I understood them. And, as long as they hadn’t harmed anyone before I got to them, it was like free target practice.

This should have been the ideal hunt. Just a bunch of zombies, no mutations, trying to get into a meat locker some moron had left abandoned in a border-slum warehouse. No one had been hurt. The undead were directionless. Most of the zombies were since the Battle. It seemed we’d depopulated the local necromancers. That was something I should feel good about. And I would have, if not for everything else.

I beheaded six zombies and then let Brett and some newbies finish off the rest. No risk of infection. No necromancer to make the necro-blood dangerous.

Treth watched me as I sat in the corner of the carnage-filled room. His brow was creased like a mother watching her child not playing with anyone at the park.

No use explaining myself to him. He knew. And he should understand. I was exhausted.

Brett dropped me off at the HQ, just as he picked up Krieg. Only right that the old friends go out for some guy time.

I didn’t really know what to make of Brett’s buddy. He was respectful, and Brett was so happy that he was here, but I couldn’t help but think about the tattoo on his arm. He also looked at me in a peculiar way. The way that many of the early Crusaders used to look at me. I didn’t know if he saw me as Kat. To him, I was the Last Light.

Well, couldn’t be helped.

I yawned as Brett waved his final goodbye and they sped off. The sun was setting. The road in front of the HQ was covered in litter, discarded signs and broken bottles. But no protesters. Thank Athena! If they had still been hanging around, I don’t think I would have had the energy to stop Heather or Kyong from picking fights with them.

The HQ was quiet. I couldn’t even hear the usual faint chatter coming from the mess hall or mosh pit. Just the eerie silence of an empty office. An almost empty office. Jane looked up at me from across the hall, from her reception desk.

I managed to summon up a smile as I approached her. She responded in kind. Her fake smile was much better than mine. One would hope so. She had been a politician, and quite a successful one, before becoming what Heather called the glorified receptionist of the Crusaders. But I saw the bags under her eyes. Her suit and hair were usually immaculate. That was before this last week. Like most of us, Jane had changed. She cared less about her appearance. And she had gained a hunter’s stare behind the permanent façade of professional courtesy. If only Heather could see that! Jane was one of us, even if she did spend more time behind a desk than on the field.

I didn’t know what she had faced in the HQ during the Battle. I knew that some undead and vampires had made it into the hospital area. I also knew that Jane had been there. Just more horror for the evening.

“Evening, Kat,” Jane said, sounding as cheerful as one could under the circumstances.

“Hey, Jane. Any messages?”

Jane shook her head, giving one of her rare sincere frowns. No messages were often a good thing. But now it was just a sign that we weren’t getting new clients. That more and more of the city was turning against us.

“Good news, though,” Jane said, perking up. “We managed to disperse the protesters. None of them are pressing charges. Well, one tried but the cops who rounded them up were on our side and refused to take statements.”

“Sounds like corruption to me,” I mumbled, taking a seat opposite Jane’s desk and slumping back. I’d known Jane for a long while now. I considered her a part of the inner circle.

Odd. A while back, I’d wanted to slap her across the face. But things had changed after she’d been kicked out of the Chairman elections. It had made her human.

“Corruption is the life-blood of politics, Kat. The grease that keeps the wheels turning. It’s inevitable. Might as well have it benefit you.”

“If you’re trying to make me like politicians, you’re failing dismally.”

I sighed. A heavier sigh than usual. Jane noticed. She wasn’t some dumb popularity contest winning dolt, I had to remember. I had very little respect for the average politician. Jane had not been one. She had an understanding of politics and people far superior to most of her peers. And, while she was conniving, manipulative and underhanded – I do believe she would have been good for the city. And I’m an anarchist!

It wasn’t that which made me sigh, however.

The protesters had been dispersed. That was good. And we still had enough friends among the cops to make them look the other way. They were also men of violence, as much as I was quite disparaging of them most of the time. They understood what we went through. And a lot of cops appreciated that they weren’t expected to face things with as many teeth as we had to.

But, I couldn’t shake this guilty feeling down in my gut. That these protesters had lost homes, family, friends. They’d lost lives. They had a right to be angry. To seek vengeance. To criticise us as we’d practically invited evil into the city.

“I know that look, Commander,” Jane said, sternly. “And stop it. Evil doesn’t need an excuse. The Necro Lord did everything he did because he was a sick, twisted psychopath. Would have made a good politician, actually. We killed him. That makes us the good guys. These protesters are just finding something to be pissed off about. Yesterday, it was the orcs. Today, it’s us. Tomorrow, they’ll hopefully be protesting outside Sanitation. Those bastards need a wake up call.”

“I know, I know. But…isn’t there something we can do? We are meant to protect them. We can’t do that if they think we’re the bad guys.”

Jane waved the comment aside. “We’re still getting paid, even if they protest after the transaction clears. Most so-called activists have a big case of hypocrisy. When it really matters, they’ll come begging for us to protect them. And I’ll be holding the bag to collect the cash. Placards and empty slogans mean nothing, no matter how hurtful. Money is what matters.”

“I’ve seen the reports, Jane. I know we’ve been getting cancellations. And, with all the new manpower and expansion, we can’t afford it.”

Jane twitched. Almost a frown. Almost.

“Temporary. Riaan is using us as a scapegoat for his own failings. Typical politics. But I didn’t think he was capable. I’m kinda impressed.”

“Please don’t flatter my enemies too much.”

Jane snorted in amusement. “He’s not our enemy. He’s a small little man blinded by ideology and petulance.”

“He’s actively trying to destroy us.”

Jane shrugged. “That’s just politics. And he won’t win. There’s only one thing that can destroy the Crusaders. And it is eating away at us right now. You know what it is?”

“Vampires? Taxes? The French?”

“Low morale,” she announced, pointedly and staring at me now with an intense gaze. “There’s no joy anymore. Life is about ceremony. Small, happy habits that make all the exhausting stuff seem less heavy. We used to have the Gravekeeper. Weekly drinks at the pub. It was good. And not just because of the booze. It was a distraction from the tedium and the violence. But that’s gone now. The Crusaders need levity, Kat. A break from all this.”

A break…

Oh, how I longed for that. I felt Treth’s sincere pity. He couldn’t feel the ache in my bones and in my heart. But he could see how it affected me.

But I also knew we couldn’t afford to stop now. Not with all the blood on the horizon.

“I’m heading up,” I said, standing and passing Jane on the way to the stairwell.

Jane nodded. “Goodnight, Kat.”

Goodnight. I snorted. It was only 6pm!

I pulled myself up the stairs. The silence of the office still pressed in on me. Everyone was on duty. No rest for the wicked. And if Riaan had his way, everyone would see us as wicked.

Jane thought it was just petty politics. That Riaan wasn’t the enemy. Perhaps, she was right. But that didn’t stop what he was doing. He was slowly turning this city against us. And we were starting to listen to him ourselves.

I had never wished for the Gravekeeper to be open more than I did now.

The sound of fingers hastily clattering on a computer keyboard stopped me. Light pooled from an office on the way to my own.

Cindy’s office.

I should use this time to sleep. But sleep wasn’t what I really needed. Jane was right. We needed something more. Joy.

I knocked on Cindy’s open door. My friend lifted her head and smiled, faintly.

“Kat! What’s up?”

I shrugged and entered, taking a seat.

Cindy’s office was impeccably clean. Her books, a combination of new and old spell tomes, were neatly arranged on a metal shelf. And there wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere.

Cindy was a purifier. One of the best. And while as a sorcerer she didn’t need spell-words to cast her healing magic, she took refining her abilities very seriously. That included keeping a clean mind and body, which necessitated a clean environment. Some people saw Cindy as obsessively clean. But it was better than stench and decay. A welcome alternative to the prey I hunted.

Cindy finished typing something, clicked and then swivelled her chair to face me.

“I’d work at home,” she said. “But the pixies have gotten it into their heads that my computer needs upgrading. They tried to grow a flowerbed on the motherboard.”

Treth manifested nearby, taking a seat. Cindy nodded in greeting. She was one of the few people who could also see him. In fact, she had been the first besides me.

“You cut those blighters a little too much slack,” Treth added, sternly. “They need some discipline. They can’t get away with everything.”

Cindy laughed. “Have you tried telling a pixie what to do? They’ll just double down on the mischief. And, besides, I don’t actually mind. They keep the weyline clean, and they’re good company. Rifts know we need it with…”

She stopped herself short. But I knew what she was going to say. Themba, Guy’s cousin, had been traumatised by something in the east. He was now living with Guy and Cindy. Sometimes, he fought alongside us. But, more often than not, he was a broken man. A shell of someone that Guy had once adored.

Cindy shook her head and allowed her smile to return.

“It’s still weird, you know? Not having you living there with me, but also having…” her grin widened. “Guy there.”

“A worthy trade, I think. I’m glad you’re happy.”

“I am, Kat. And it actually makes me feel a bit guilty that I am. With all that’s going on, I should have a cloud over me. But I don’t. I’m happy. Immensely. Perhaps, because I’m used to all this. That this is just a cloudy day in a city of storms.”

“It’s more than that, Cins. I know that when I finally got together with Brett, things got a lot brighter. You and Guy…I’m so happy for you. And angry that it had to happen at such a time.”

Cindy shrugged. “There will always be chaos and darkness. We find light in between. And over the last few years, I’ve found a lot of light…”

Cindy seemed to stare past me, as her eyes became watery. Shiny. She rubbed them and laughed, as if embarrassed.

“Oh! Look at me getting all sentimental…”

I reached out and held her hand. She stopped chattering and smiled. There was sadness in that smile. An immeasurable sadness. But, more than that, like fresh water rising above the muck, was joy.

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you this, Kat, but I think of you as a sister. It’s been a wonderful experience watching you grow. And it’s been painful seeing you get hurt. But, every time, you rise above it. I think it’s made me stronger. No, it definitely has. You’ve helped me more than you’ll ever know.”

I scoffed, embarrassed, but she squeezed my hand, silencing me.

“You know that I don’t have any biological family? Not for a long time. I call them biological because the word real doesn’t really fit them. They never really cared about me, and I struggle to miss them even though I sometimes think I should. But they aren’t my real family. Never were. I found my real family. It’s you. It’s Brett. It’s the Crusaders. And it’s Guy.”

Her smile wilted. “I love him, Kat. Never have I been as terrified of losing someone as I am of losing him. And it’s changed me. Once, I was willing to sacrifice myself to banish Satan back to Hell. Now, I don’t want to die without him knowing how much he means to me.”

“I’m sure he knows, Cins. He’s a smart guy.”

I looked to Treth. He was frowning. We were both out of our depth.

“I know,” Cindy continued, sounding mournful. Despite the happiness she had discussed, I could sense the emotional fatigue. It was the grand irony of love that it enabled you to lose. And that was terrifying. “I know he loves me. But he’s still so afraid. So tentative. He grapples with his past. With his traditions. He doesn’t believe he deserves me. Or love. And with the Children coming, it’s…it has been hard.”

Cindy had started this discussion being happy. But, if this was her happiness…

I suddenly felt great sorrow for my friend.

I had heard a bit about Guy’s problems from Brett and pieced some of it together. Guy was Xhosa and was meant to go through an initiation ritual when he was young. But the ritual was disrupted, and he had never finished his initiation and gone down the path to manhood.

I suspected it wasn’t just that, though. Guy was calm. Rational. Not cold, but definitely icily professional. But, there was something behind those eyes. Something far deeper than the hunter’s stare.

For some reason, the thought of Guy’s trepidation brought up Jane’s point. The need for levity. For joy. If anyone deserved and needed joy, it was Guy and Cindy. Their engagement party had been interrupted by the Necro Lord killing one of our friend’s after all.

They deserved happiness. Together.

That’s when my brain awoke with a thousand sparks.

“You should have the wedding soon. No, now! Not now, everything is closed. But really soon. Next week!”

“Wait, what?” Cindy asked, confused.

I realised I was beaming. This was what Jane had been suggesting. Joy. The binding of two people who loved each other together. Even the most boring wedding was still happy. We needed this. They needed this.

“You guys said you wanted something small anyway, so it won’t need much planning. You and Guy should have your wedding. Before everything gets out of hand.”

Treth processed what I was saying before Cindy did.

“Are you mad?!” he exclaimed. “This isn’t the time for parties and ceremony. We’re at war!”

“We’re always at war, Treth! And that means it’s just the right time for a wedding. Not just for you two, and to finally get Guy to stop doubting himself, but also for the Crusaders. We need some joy.”

“What about the Children?” Cindy countered.

“They are coming whether we like it or not. And after them, the Mentor said the real war begins. We aren’t fighting right now. This is the best time we’ve got. And I want to go to a wedding. Your wedding. I’m sick of funerals.”

Cindy didn’t reply immediately. Treth looked antsy. He thought it was reckless. He would rather we bar all the doors and erect a stone wall around our little fiefdom.

But, if we couldn’t enjoy life, just a bit, what were we even protecting?

Cindy smiled, weakly. “I’ll talk to Guy about it.”

I beamed. That was all I needed to hear.

Chapter 5.            Engagement

***GUY***

Brett’s Corps buddy, Krieg as he called himself, had a strange way of kicking back with the guys. Brett had suggested a bar in Old Town. Krieg asked to go hunting vamps. Insisted. We took him to one of the dives we knew in the border-slums. Full of deadbeat blood drinkers. Nobody paid us. And no vamp was alive to tell the tale.

Not that I’m complaining. More dead vamps were always a plus. But still, it was a little odd.

After some time in Hope City, Brett and I had accepted that hunting vampires wasn’t good for us. They changed us. And I could see they changed Brett. We hated them. And I am one of the first to tell you that they needed to die. But not at the expense of, well, me.

Brett was different with Krieg. He still laughed and joked. But there was something darker in his expression. Something morbid. It was subtle. Nothing to be able to comment on explicitly. Just…odd.

“Good hunting, man!” Krieg called out as I exited Brett’s van. I nodded and grunted in response. Krieg laughed.

“Cheers, mate. See you tomorrow!” Brett called, smiling more than he had been for the past while. The cheerful, jokey Brett that was my friend. Probably even the closest thing I now had to a brother.

Perhaps, I was just imagining things. Everything was fine. Well, with him. With the Izingane Zegazi coming for me…us…things were far from fine.

I waved them both farewell and turned to face Cindy’s…our home.

It was still odd to call this place home. Living in a house at all was strange. The last time I’d lived in a free-standing house and not an apartment or ditch was when I was a kid, living with my mom.

I remember, just as I was getting used to working for Drakenbane, coming to Cindy’s house after a hunt to get some healing done. It had been smaller then, before it was rebuilt. And it had been clean. Spotless.

I’d walked in some drake blood and she’d tackled me to the floor, scrubbing at me while shouting about stains.

I couldn’t help but smile now. I couldn’t believe how things had changed. No, really. I could almost not believe it. I had told a long-gone friend a long time ago that I didn’t feel like I was alive. Like this was all a dream. That I’d died long ago.

But, if this was a dream, it was a good one for moments like this. I stopped to stare at the house. I sniffed, letting the scent of freshly cut grass waft into my nostrils.

It was good to be home. Good to have a home.

Even so, it was also weird. I had spent so long on the road by myself, sleeping under the stars. And even now, I struggled to settle down.

Because, no matter what the reasonable side of me said, and how much I knew I loved Cindy, a darker voice inside my head told me I didn’t deserve this. That I had left things undone. That I could not find love when I wasn’t a man.

I banished the darker thoughts away, and made my way to the door, where I inserted my key. The door budged but didn’t open.

I sighed, frustrated. Pixies playing tricks again! Ugh, most fae couldn’t touch metal. And for good reason! These pixies could and they used their ability to be eternal mischiefs.

It made it even worse that I couldn’t help but like the little bastards.

I knocked, expecting the sing-song lilt of a pixie to respond. Mockingly.

Instead, I saw the flicker of motion on the other side of the peephole and saw shadows underneath the crack of the door.

“Themba,” I called to my cousin. “It’s me, cos!”

I heard mumbling on the other side of the door. But no motion to remove the bolt.

“Themba, is that you?” I called in Xhosa.

Cold dread started to infuse my veins. What if the Children had arrived? What if one was waiting inside for me? And what had they done to my cousin?!

“How can I be so sure?” Themba finally spoke up. He slurred, half sobbing and half ready to yell.

“We grew up together. You know me.”

“I knew them, I thought I knew them. But the Blood tricked us. How do I know you’re my cousin?”

I wanted to frown, but I kept my impassive expression. Needed to be calm. Collected. But my cousin hadn’t been this bad before. I heard him cry himself to sleep. He woke us up in the early hours screaming. And he had shakes like he was about to freeze to death. But not this level of paranoia.

But he was still my cousin. I leant up close against the door, sensing his head on the other side.

“Mom used to put cinnamon in her pap,” I whispered. I could sense him listening. Intently. “She knew it was expensive. But it reminded her of dad. One time, she couldn’t afford any. So, we went into the impi garrison and stole a bunch. Dlamini caught us and gave us a spanking with a sjambok. But he let us keep the cinnamon.”

I went silent. Waiting. Only Themba and I knew that story. Even Dlamini hadn’t known why we wanted the cinnamon. Only Themba and I had lived with her. At least, we were the only ones alive who had.

I expected to hear the sliding of the bolt and the opening of the door. Instead, I could only hear a faint sob. Drawing further away.

The bolt slid open and I opened the door. Duer, the pixie, hovered just by the door. His girlfriend, (or was it wife?) Brivvy, fluttered nearby, looking down a bottle-strewn hall where Themba had retreated.

“Aye, Guy,” Duer said, shaking his head. “He’s been makin’ a right racket all night.”

“He’s in pain, Duer,” Brivvy argued.

“Let him wallow somewhere else then!” Duer retorted, angrily, but I saw by the wavering of his golden glowing aura that he didn’t mean it. Cindy said that pixies were heavily empathetic. The seemingly obtuse ones like Duer were obstinate by choice.

I closed the door and locked it, leaving the bolt unlatched. Cindy still needed to come home.

Duer flew off to go do the ever important “pixie business”. Brivvy loitered behind.

“Ye kin is in darkness,” she said.

“I know,” I replied, sounding cold, professional. Matter of fact. I wanted to sob.

“Go to him,” she replied, simply, and flew off to join her mate.

This was not my forte. I was a hunter. I killed things. I wasn’t a therapist. How could I be when I couldn’t even deal with my own shit?

But, he was my cousin. The only blood family I had left. I had to at least try and help him. It was the least I could do for all he had done for me.

I followed my cousin, nudging discarded beer bottles out of the way. It reminded me of a certain tokoloshe’s abode back in my homeland. Cindy was going to have a fit!

Themba sat alone in darkness, only illuminated by the bits of light spilling in from the hallway. He slumped, like a man who had lost everything. I understood that look. I had wanted to collapse into a heap like his, a beer in hand. So many times. But I hadn’t.

I silently took a seat opposite him. He didn’t attack me. Didn’t even look up.

“It’s me, cos,” I said, as gently as I could. “Why didn’t you let me in?”

“You could’ve been a vampire,” he answered, simply and quietly.

“But I’m not. No vampire could have known that story. Only us. We’re family.”

“How am I supposed to know that? I’m not some arcane Blood Hunter forged in secrecy and sacrifice. I was meant to be a fucking freedom fighter. All I can tell is vampires can do anything. Kill anything! They will kill me one day. And you…”

Themba had said that all in a calm, defeated tone. It stunned me to silence. Finally, I managed to reply.

“None of that is certain. We can win. You saw what we did at the Battle. What we’re capable of now. We can relax. At least for a bit.”

And that should mean a lot coming from me.

“Relaxing is how I lost them, Guy!” he yelled, suddenly. “It’s how they all died. If we’d been alert, if we’d not let our guard down for that one moment, they might still be here.”

He slumped back down, covering his face. No tears came, but his breathing was heavy.

“Themba,” I replied, softly. Calmly. “I need to know what happened.”

He had never told us. After years of not seeing him, he had arrived on our doorstep covered in blood. And had never said a word of it since. But it was time that changed.

He shook his head, like a child refusing to go to bed, but then stopped. His resistance weakened. He did not relax, exactly, but he no longer resisted. He didn’t look at me while he spoke.

“After we got to Hope City,” he started. “We started reaching out to the diaspora. To get more men to fight for a Free Transkei. I know, I know. I said I wouldn’t. I said I’d given up on it. But how could I, Guy? How could I give up on not just my dreams but my entire people? I couldn’t. I reached out to some shady figures in the government here. They promised to give us aid if we provided the manpower. And, by the Rifts, we did. Got a hundred men and women, good Xhosa folk, to answer the call. And our contact came through. Armed us, gave us a way through the Three Point Line. Told us to go kill some impi. And we did.”

Themba looked up at me, his eyes glistening with moisture, sadness and a past determination.

“We did well, Guy. It was like the good old days. We managed to get even more patriots to rise up in the homeland. Destroyed an impi base even. It was amazing! I could taste our freedom with every dead impi. We even started leaving our flag in the settlements we liberated.”

His expression darkened.

“But we went too far.”

It sounded like he had already. Themba and I had escaped the Empire because we knew we had no future there anymore. But he had gone back. And it seemed, had paid the price…

“We had cleared out all the impi around Makanda. But the Izingane Zegazi sent in a vamp to set up a stronghold to stop us. We didn’t think much of it. You killed Nkosi Kuzalwa Igazi! We could kill a damn fledgeling. And we did. Was easy. We stormed his stronghold. No casualties even. There were a few dozen of us. Enough firepower to take him down before he could move. We then took his head and staked it on a hill till the sun ashed him for good.”

I was dumbfounded. I wanted to shout at my cousin. To scream, “What have you done?!”

But I knew he had realised his mistake. And his comrades had paid the price for it.

For when a vampire died, all its relatives received its final moments as a telepathic sensation. They knew the scent, the taste, the appearance…everything…of those who had done it.

It was why Blood Hunters fought the Blood expecting to die. To destroy a vampire, one must be prepared to sacrifice everything. And they had stormed in there to kill a fledgeling like they were taking out the trash…

“The Blood tracked us down. Sometimes, one by one. Other times, a dozen at a time. I fled. Tried to get back to Hope City. I felt like a coward fleeing my men, but I knew I couldn’t save them. I took those I could and went to Plett, by the Three Point Line. We thought we were safe in a CDF safehouse. We relaxed.”

He looked away, into the dark corner of the room. “They came during the day. One of the young guys opened the door for them, expecting pizza. We got delivered the head of our Council contact, and then they attacked. I didn’t try to fight. I fled. And almost didn’t make it. They cut me up good, just as I got on my bike and rushed to you…”

He trailed off. I knew the rest. He had arrived close to death. Cindy had saved him, as she always did. He warned us that the Blood was coming. For him, for me, and now for all of us.

I reached out and touched my cousin’s knee. He didn’t move.

“Themba…cos…you cannot let the past rule you. Mistakes we make, failures, and horrors, are all in the past. We cannot change them. But we can act on what we have learnt…”

And know that we must move on, even if we cannot.

“We deserve a better future.”

Even if I am not really a man.

Themba looked up at me. A few tears trailed down from his eyes.

Themba had protected me. He had been my older brother. Perhaps, even my father. He was a dreamer. A thinker. A freedom fighter. A hero.

And the Blood had broken him.

No! Not broken.

I clenched my fists.

“We can fix what we have broken,” I said, sitting up straight. “Even if it is ourselves.”

“But what if it is too late?” he whimpered.

I held his gaze. I didn’t smile. That wasn’t what I did. But I showed my cousin what I felt, deep down in my gut. We could win this. We could get over this. Because I believed in a future.

I heard the front door open, and my fiancée greet the pixies who were no doubt pestering her for booze. Themba inclined his head. He’d heard her too.

A silhouette blocked what little light was pooling into the room. Themba stood up, slowly.

“I should head to bed,” he said, sidling past Cindy, avoiding eye contact.

She turned on the light as my cousin passed her. I saw in her close-lipped frown that she wanted to complain about the bottles. I knew her past. I understood why cleanliness was so important to her. But she didn’t comment.

She came up to me, wordlessly, and kissed me on the forehead. I pulled her closer, down to my lips, as we embraced.

We sat together in silence. I gave her time to figure out what had been going on. And I needed time to process what my cousin had told me.

I idly stroked Cindy’s bare arms. They were scarred, from wrist to shoulder. Intricate spell-words and runes. Only living human skin could be used to hold spell-words without them burning up upon use. Cindy had used her body as a living canvass to fight evil. It took a toll on her. I could see it. But she lived with it all the same. That’s partly why I loved her.

But something was off. I had expected at least one snarky mention about the litter. Or some gossip about Krieg. I could see that she had been bottling it up all day. She’d want the scoop from our evening.

But she was silent, all the while she fidgeted with my lapel.

Finally, I broke the silence. Quite unusual for me, but a man’s gotta do what’s right.

“There’s something on your mind, love?”

She nodded. “Was talking to Kat earlier. She brought something up. A good point.”

“Was it about putting more silver on the window bars? That is a good point.”

“I don’t think there’s enough silver in all of Hope City to coat them to your satisfaction, darling. But it’s something else…”

She hesitated. It must have been something drastic. Something that could make Cindy nervous was something dire indeed.

But it could be anything. Kat was a great leader. An even greater hunter. But, I still half suspected that she was insane. No one else was as reckless as she was. And, a good thing too, as we’d needed that recklessness to save the city. Multiple times.

“What is it?” I prompted Cindy again. If Kat had a new crazy plan or, Rifts forbid, a new quest, I needed to know. It had been hell dealing with everything without her when she’d dragged Brett and her friends off to New Zealand. I wanted warning if she was planning on pulling a stunt like that again. Especially now!

“Kat was talking about…our wedding.”

I simultaneously felt relief that it wasn’t something to do with the job, and panic.

“Why?” I asked dubiously.

“She…mentioned that she thinks we should have it soon. Not just soon. Next week.”

“Why?” I managed to murmur again, stunned.

Why, by the demons of the In Between?! We were fighting a war. We could barely take time off to sleep, much less a wedding!

“She had a good point,” Cindy continued, calmer now. Reasonable. That paragon of cool heads once again. “The Children aren’t here yet. And, once we’re done with them, the Conclave will be moving in. This might be our last chance to have the wedding. Kat and I aren’t sure when will be the next best time.”

“So…you support this?”

Cindy nodded. “I do. I love you and want to get married to you. Simple. Delays…they just give time for more bad stuff to happen. I want to be with you now. Before…”

She left the rest unsaid.

My heart was beating fast. Like drums. How could I face down a snarling vamp, but this could knock me right out?

“Guy? What do you think?”

It just felt…

“It doesn’t seem real, Cins. The engagement, the wedding…us. It’s like a dream. A good dream I don’t want to wake up from. But still just a dream.”

Because I wasn’t really alive. Even now.

“I don’t deserve you…”

“Really, Guy Mgebe? You really don’t think so, after all this time? You are a man! My man.”

“It’s not that…”

It really wasn’t. Not anymore. Even if I had thought so. But, as I thought about it now, my initiation that never was didn’t matter to me much any longer.

But something else did. The smell of burning tyres. The heat on my face as I watched the one I loved most in this world burn.

“I have left so much undone,” I whispered, feeling moisture behind my eyes. I held it back. It wasn’t time to weep. Not yet. Not ever. “It’s not about tradition. It’s about earning the right to be loved by you. And I don’t deserve it while I live as a half-man, consumed by vengeance uncompleted.”

My heart stung as I saw the pain in Cindy’s eyes. Her mouth was open. She wanted to argue, but she saw the moisture in my eyes. I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t want to put her through the pain I felt.

She didn’t get a chance to speak.

“Cousin!” Themba boomed from the doorway. His slur was less pronounced now. “Don’t be a damn hypocrite. Mom taught you better than that! You can’t tell me to let go of the past and don’t do the same yourself! You’ve sacrificed far too much to wallow in self-pity. You’ve done too much! If you don’t deserve to be happy, nobody does! Take this woman, cos, and marry her! Have lots of babies. And be fucking happy.”

His lip quivered, but he held on.

“I want to see my little cos happy again before the end.”

Themba turned and left, as suddenly as he had arrived.

Cindy looked shocked, and just a little pleased. She turned to me, her expression now one of expectance.

I couldn’t argue with her now.

And I realised…I didn’t want to.

Fuck it! I wanted to get married. Graham would have told me that I owed it to him to let people get drunk on my behalf. And more than that…I owed it to myself.

I looked into the eyes of the woman I loved.

We both deserved to be happy.

“Next week,” I said.

Cindy’s smile lit up the room and my heart like the rays of an angel. She almost squealed in excitement before I stopped her.

“But we need to take precautions. Safety first.”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course. Any place in mind? Please don’t say the Mosh-Pit.”

“Definitely not! The Mosh-Pit is way too open. And they need it for business. No…I’m thinking we ask Trudie if we can use her compound. The reception area used to be a church, after all.”

“Brilliant! I’ll send her a message right away.”

“What about a minister?” I asked. Neither Cindy nor I were religious. But we still needed someone to marry us.

“Conrad will do it,” Cindy said, matter of factly, as if it was obvious. “He is an ordained minister of three and a half religions that I know about. And I think he’d be pretty sad if we asked anyone else.”

I couldn’t help but raise my eyebrow at that, but my concern at having a fallen angel turned used car salesman officiate at my wedding faded quickly.

I was getting married to the greatest woman in the world. If this was a dream, perhaps I wanted to remain asleep.

Chapter 6.            Love

***KAT***

Fleetwood Mac’s “You make Loving Fun” played over a stereo system as Crusaders and Heiligeslicht purifiers milled about the courtyard of Trudie’s compound. I had actually heard that the wedding was happening there from Trudie first. As soon as Cindy had asked her for use of the venue, she’d phoned me with the same excitement from when we were teenagers. There were more squeals involved than actual speaking.

I had doubted the choice at first, but Trudie and Pranish had pulled out all the stops. They had repaired most of the damage from the Battle, cleaned up the old church with a new lick of white paint, and had even replaced the stained glass. This time with imagery of werewolves and Trudie looking regal. My friend was the very image of humility.

The werewolves had been given only three days’ notice for the wedding.

“I’ve got to say, Troodz, you should become a wedding planner.”

She beamed, giving a toothy grin. Her eyes glowed gold. Not from any sort of anger or a full moon. Just sheer, undiluted excitement.

“Don’t give her any ideas,” Pranish commented.

“Hey,” I retorted, grinning with unhidden mischief. “I think Werewolf Weddings is a great brand! Should capitalise on it.”

Trudie’s eyes lit up even more. A golden fire in her irises. Pranish groaned. He was happy for Guy and Cindy, at least that’s what Trudie told me, but he hated weddings. He had a big family of people he hated and had to attend, what he claimed, was a dozen weddings a year. Hosting more was the last thing he wanted.

I looked over Pranish and Trudie’s shoulders as Trudie began arguing over the logo of her new wedding planning agency. Brett was standing with Guy, Krieg, Themba and some of the other male Crusaders. Kyong had his arm around Henri’s shoulders. He looked happy. And was sober! They all wore tuxedos, bulging at points where they wore armour underneath.

Brett was tearful, as he regaled the group with their experiences from the previous night. They all laughed and repeated each other’s stories, even though they had all been there. Even Themba, even more morose after the Battle than he had been before, smiled every so often.

The guys had taken Guy for his stag party last night. Apparently, it had been pretty bloody. The usual. But fun. I hadn’t seen Brett smile like that in ages, even with the tears.

Everyone looked happy. Jane caught my eye. She winked and beamed with a smile that could only stem from vindication. This had been partly her idea. And she had been right. We needed this.

The girls and I had taken Cindy out last night for a quieter evening. Heather, Trudie, Jane, the female Gibson twin, and three of Cindy’s colleagues from Heiligeslicht. We’d gone to a restaurant in Sea Point. Good food. A relaxing evening. It was nice. Even Heather smiled, occasionally. I was particularly impressed with the Gibson twin, who didn’t speak at all, but managed to participate in the discussion on the merits of banishment circles for exorcising demons by nodding and gesticulating at the right moments.

Pranish had conceded that Trudie was going to start this wedding business now and was now arguing over the name. He wasn’t convinced that Werewolf Weddings was a good brand.

Shows how much he knew!

I looked around the congregation. Everyone looked happier than I’d seen them since the Battle. It was good. Calming.

Just as much as the Crusaders needed this, so did I.

Of course, the bride was absent from this display, as was traditional. But that didn’t mean I had to like it.

“Should go check on her,” Treth offered.

“Cindy is strong. I think Guy is the one who needs support,” I whispered back.

“Oh, not for her. For me. I want to make sure she’s okay.”

I rolled my eyes. But I actually appreciated the sentiment. I was also wanting to see my friend.

I slunk into the church, making my way to the back where Cindy was getting ready. Guarding the door to the make-up room was a crimson haired elf.

Ari had an expression like thunder on a face that should have been adorable. But I’d seen what she could do with those curved daggers and it was anything but cute.

“How’s the bride?” I asked of the elf.

“She’s alive,” Ari replied, as if giving a field report.

“Ah, excellent.” I nodded, satisfied, perhaps trying a bit too hard. “I was worried for a second. Can’t be too careful.”

I moved to enter the room, as Ari stepped in front of me.

“You are not to see the bride.”

I raised my eyebrow. Confused.

Ari’s expression didn’t change.

“The Alpha has restricted access to this room until the binding ritual begins. You are not to enter.”

I was nonplussed, for just a second more, before I burst out laughing.

“Oh, Trudie must have told you to stop the groom from seeing her.”

“She did use that word…” It was subtle, but Ari began to blush. “But I don’t know what it meant, so I haven’t let anyone in. Well, except Cindy’s servant.”

“Servant? You mean the maid of honour?”

Ari nodded.

Cindy had asked me to be her bridesmaid, but she had far older friends among her Heiligeslicht comrades. I insisted she give the honour to one of them. We wanted to keep things small, so only one bridesmaid for the ceremony.

Truth be told, I wanted to relax as a simple attendant this wedding.

“I am not the groom,” I explained. “Guy is. Don’t let him in or we’ll all be cursed or something. But I can go in.”

Ari’s eyes widened at the prospect of a curse. The sarcasm was lost on her.

She stepped aside and I entered.

Cindy faced away from the door, eyes glued to a mirror. I could not see her features, as her bridesmaid fussed over her. Pink and blue flashes erupted from Stephanie Naidoo’s fingertips, as she touched Cindy’s face and hair. Wherever Cindy’s bridesmaid touched her, make-up was refined and cleaned up as if a surgeon had delivered the strokes.

My reluctance to be a bridesmaid or the maid of honour was not just laziness on my part. I had met Stephanie for the first-time last night. Pristine, black hair falling in cascades from her head, contrasting with the white tabard of Heiligeslicht. And everything about her was immaculate. She was a sorcerer, like Cindy. But, while Cindy had the more traditional purification affinity, Stephanie had a rarer talent. She could use her spark to create illusions so convincing and concrete, that they might as well have been reality.

It was an odd ability to find in an association of demon hunters and healers. But Stephanie worked as a therapist, using her illusions to help victims with their traumas. There were quite a few people in the Crusaders she could help.

“How could I compete with that?” I grinned, approaching my bride and bridesmaid. “Magnificent, Cins! Well done, Steph.”

Stephanie smiled, that subtle, reserved smile that I’d found in so many purifiers of their Association.

“You have many other talents, Last Light.”

“Please, call me Kat,” I replied, as was tradition.

I turned to Cindy.

She was wearing a white, form fitting dress. Her arms were bare, exposing her scarified rune work. I liked that. Cindy’s scars were a sign of her sacrifice. Of her intelligence and power. Any sorcerer could be born with spark. She had used it to save the world. Often at the expense of herself. And that was far more attractive than smooth skin or hidden blemishes.

“You look beautiful.”

And that didn’t do it justice. And it wasn’t just the dress or the illusory make-up. It was her expression. The light in her eyes. It made Cindy not only look younger. It was a happiness that enhanced everything around it.

Stephanie noticed something in Cindy’s expression, and quietly excused herself, leaving me in a silent room with the bride. Treth chose not to appear. He must have also seen what Stephanie had.

“Thank you, Kat,” Cindy finally said, simply, but the words were charged with emotion. As if she had been building up to it all this time. Rehearsing the words, trying to find alternatives, and then realising that nothing else would work as well as those simple words.

“What for?” I replied, feeling a bit awkward as Cindy stared up at me.

She stood, gracefully, and put her arms around me. I felt tears drip through the illusions on her face. Another benefit of Stephanie’s skill. Illusions couldn’t run.

“Oh, Cins! You don’t need to cry. Or thank me. That’s not what this day is for. This is a day to be happy!”

Cindy half chuckled, half sobbed. “I am happy, Kat! Happier than I’ve ever been before. And my mind and body don’t know how to react to that. For the longest time, I didn’t think this was possible. I didn’t believe I deserved it. These scars…inside and out…they were my burden and my curse. And for all I’ve done, I would never find love.”

“That’s nonsense!” I retorted, almost angry at my friend for thinking so little of herself. How could she? Cindy was my hero. My older sister. My friend! “You deserve every stitch of happiness that you can squeeze out of this existence. And I’ll cut anyone who says otherwise!”

Cindy laugh-sobbed again.

“I know, Kat. But…I’ve never told you about my childhood…”

Cindy sat down, swivelling back towards the mirror, using it as a way to distance herself from her tale. I sat next to her, steeling myself.

I didn’t know about Cindy’s childhood. I knew she had lost her old fiancé. That it had taken over a decade for her to move on – if that was even possible. But I also knew that stable households and happy upbringings didn’t create people like Cindy. She was forged in a different type of world.

“When I was ten years old,” she began, quietly. “I watched my parents kill each other over a pack of cigarettes. I don’t remember being shocked about it. Or even sad. They had never shown an ounce of love for me. I could only be thankful that I was fed at all. When they died, I just remember numbness, nestled deep within my soul. I sat by their bodies for hours before someone found me, surrounded by garbage and squalor. The purifiers took me in, and that day I left the slums for the first time. I sniffed fresh air for the first time. It was as if I had woken from a bad dream. The smell of decay had gone. The darkness and chaos…gone. I saw light for the first time, and it awoke something inside of me. My spark.”

She smiled, as if remembering something fondly, but it faded.

“I relied on that spark. It became my best friend. And, even as I made new friends, and met new people, and strived against darkness and the filth of the world, it was still me against the world. For my own parents had never loved me, how could anyone else?”

She shook her head, and her smile returned.

“But I was proven wrong, again and again. First with Tom, but now with you, and Guy, and all the others.”

She turned to me, and I saw tears through the illusion again.

“Thank you, Kat, for giving me the courage to be loved. For bringing us together. I don’t think this would be possible without you.”

I didn’t know what she meant. I did none of this. Cindy and Guy fell in love on their own. They’d met before me.

“You changed them both,” Treth whispered, too quietly for even Cindy to hear.

Yet, I didn’t want to take the credit for their love. Never.

I wasn’t given time to reply or fully absorb Cindy’s words, as the door opened.

Conrad Khoi entered, wearing a white and black pinstripe suit with a crimson tie. His expression was stuck between trepidation, rage, excitement and fear. But, as he saw me, and then Cindy, his eyes lit up.

Doubt wilted. And, while I had found Conrad and Cindy’s relationship confusing before, I understood it now, as I saw the love for Cindy that Conrad held in his eyes. The love for a daughter.

Cindy was wrong that her parents never loved her. Conrad was her father. Her real father. And he adored her so much he couldn’t understand it himself.

Conrad’s expression faded in a flash. I had no delusions that the insight was from me alone. There must be an empath somewhere in the Vessel, as my skills at social observation had never been that great until I had become entwined with Treth. Well, another benefit of having a ghostly army residing inside my soul.

“You aren’t supposed to see the bride yet, Kat!” Conrad exclaimed, grinning like a child.

“That jokes old, Mr Khoi. Ari beat you to it.”

Conrad looked shocked and a bit disappointed that the elf had beaten him to his own joke. I didn’t bother explaining that she hadn’t been joking.

I stood up as Cindy did and gave her a long, tight hug. She whispered her thanks to me again. I didn’t know how to reply.

I left the make-up room. Ari wasn’t at her post. She must have been called to the service. I exited the backrooms of the compound and came face to face with the assembling congregation. I knew every face. Almost all Crusaders. The others were purifiers from Heiligeslicht. Ari was standing guard by the door to the back. I inclined my head to her, and she nodded back. Always on duty! I had long since given up trying to get her to relax. Apparently, she relaxed readily enough with Senegal and their superhero shows. She’d seemed so laid back in New Sintar, though! Perhaps, the trauma of losing her people had changed her far more than we realised.

Flanking the entrance to the church building were Kyong and Heather. Two of our elites to be the honour guard. It was more a ceremonial posting, as everyone here was carrying a weapon. And, if they weren’t, then I’d be even more afraid of them!

Trudie waved over to me from the front row. I walked past Guy and Brett, standing at the altar.

I smiled at the groom, my friend, and in one of his rare bouts of openness, he smiled back.

“Well done, Guy,” I said, genuinely. “I don’t need to tell you to treat her right. I know you will. And I know she could give you an haemorrhage if you don’t.”

Guy nodded, seriously now. He took this as a mission. One he would complete more satisfactorily than he had ever done before.

Brett stopped me to give me a quick kiss and then I sat next to Trudie, who gripped my arm tightly, tears already streaming down her face.

“Prani, I want a black dress for our wedding,” she said. “Are you taking notes?”

“Of course, honey,” he replied, rolling his eyes. But I caught a hint of a smile.

Themba sat to my left. I saw moisture on his cheeks. That was good. Weeping for joy was better than a cold numbness. I still smelled the hint of alcohol on his breath coupled with sweat.

“Cindy told me that you were the one who convinced Guy to go through with this,” I whispered.

Themba was impassive. It seemed this trait ran through the family. He didn’t break his gaze on the altar and his cousin.

“My cousin is a complicated man, Kat. But, in this, he is simple. He loves her and should be with her. I just told him to do what he already wanted to do.”

“It’s a hard thing, sometimes, to do the right thing. Even if you want it,” Treth added, in another rare bout of sincere wisdom.

The room hushed, suddenly. Everyone was seated. The sound of a piano and violin soon filled the room, as the Gibson twins, girl on violin and boy on piano, began to play the Bridal Chorus.

“They learn so fast,” Trudie exclaimed, positively glowing. If the sin of pride was destructive, she’d be a nuclear bomb.

In unison, Kyong and Heather opened the front doors, revealing Cindy in all her splendour, being led by Conrad, looking and being the most fatherly I’d ever seen him. Stephanie pulled up the rear, muttering a spell as rose petals fell from the ceiling.

It had been the day we needed already. A time to relax. A time to remind us that there is joy in this world. But, it was this moment that finally brought me to tears, as I saw the adoration in Guy’s eyes for my friend, and the complete, unhindered happiness in hers.

Conrad led Cindy to face Guy before the altar. I caught Brett’s eye as he stood behind his friend, his face red as he chewed his bottom lip. He wanted to cry. It was that type of day. But he held on. My man! I blew him a kiss and he stood just a bit straighter.

Conrad rounded the altar as he released Cindy’s arm. Unconventional, but who was I to judge? He crouched down almost comically fast and retrieved a burgundy shawl from below the altar, which he quickly donned. If he had looked the part of a sleazy used-car salesman before, he was now a sleazy used-car salesman dressed like a priest.

But, that was Conrad. His insincerity was his sincerity. And the façade had since become endearing knowing what he truly was.

The Bridal Chorus was reaching its climax and I caught Conrad looking at Cindy.

He mouthed.

“Are you sure?”

Cindy laughed, and nodded. Conrad smiled, even if he never truly thought anyone would be good enough for her.

The music stopped. Conrad puffed out his chest and spoke.

“It is a courageous thing to love. To open oneself to another. For a hunter and warrior, it can reveal our vulnerabilities. In a world in which we need to be strong, to be guarded, love requires us to show a part of ourselves that no one else could ever see. To love is to be hurt.”

Very inspiring speech, Conrad. Great for a funeral…

“But it is worth it. For to be loved is to be whole. To love is to find completeness in this world. And for all its risks and pain, it is worth every hardship.”

He rubbed his chin, hesitating. If I didn’t know better, he looked a bit tearful. But Conrad didn’t cry! Did he?

“Today, we recognise the love of two people. Hunters, warriors, healers and heroes. We recognise their love and bind them together so that the cosmos can look upon their love as a single light, blazing through the In Between. Today, we recognise the love between Cindy Giles and Guy Mgebe, soon to both be Giles-Mgebe.”

I saw a hint of Conrad’s reluctance again, but he fought it down. Good man! He turned to face Cindy.

“Cindy, do you wish to be wed to Guy? To love and cherish him? To be committed and loyal? And to be his light in the dark?”

Cindy glowed. “I do.”

Conrad turned to Guy. “Do you, Guy, wish to be wed to Cindy? To adore and hold? To be devoted and steadfast? To be the gun at her side and the foe of her enemies?”

“I do,” Guy replied, and I did see the glint of a tear in his eyes.

Conrad stepped back, opening his arms wide.

“Let any who would have any objections to this binding speak now, or later. Whatever works for you. It’s a free country. Cindy and Guy Giles-Mgebe, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

Cheers erupted as the twins renewed the chorus. Guy and Cindy leant in, holding each other’s cheeks as they stared into one each other’s eyes.

A harsh wind whooshed into the church, as the doors flung open. Cindy and Guy stopped, turning towards the door as the entire congregation swivelled in their seats. The music stopped, replaced by a low growl as the twins noticed something more pressing than their instruments.

I should have expected this. I actually did. But I still hated it.

A figure cloaked in black and wearing a red hood obscuring its features stood in the doorway, unmoving. The reddening, twilight sun should have carried his shadow into the building. But no shadow was forthcoming. It was if he was one of Stephanie’s illusions. Less so, as she would have remembered to make a shadow.

But the rumble of the growling werewolves told me that this was no illusion.

Trudie, eyes afire with a now vengeful gold, jumped in front of the bride and groom and pointed an accusatory claw at the gate crasher.

“Are you fucking stupid, bub?” she growled. “This is a Werewolf and Wizardry Wedding Event. You want to die?”

Silence. And then, a low laugh, rising in volume, until the figure was guffawing, facing the ceiling as his hood fell off, revealing his red eyes and impressive fangs. The sun did not cause so much as a blister on his dark skin.

Seeing his features, the church erupted into a cacophony of clicks, locking bolts, muttered incantations and the crackle of primal energy. My cloak wanted in on it and burst to life, as Treth dropped Ithalen into my hand. I drew Voidshot with my other.

Guy and Cindy stood side to side, golden light charging in her hand, and twin pistols in his. Conrad pumped a shotgun and took aim.

No one fired. Perhaps, it was curiosity. Prudence. Or, perhaps fear. Because I knew that I hadn’t truly believed Miriam’s stories of the vampire immunity to sunlight.

The vampire stopped laughing and faced the assembled crowd head on. He paid no mind to Heather’s blade below his neck, or the thrum of energy resonating from Kyong.

“I must admit,” he finally said. “That I am offended that I was not invited to your wedding, Guy Mgebe of Mqanduli, last of the Blood Hunters. You don’t know me, but I feel I know you. Perhaps, more than your new wife will ever know you. I have stared at your image in my mind’s eye for over a decade. I have examined every pore, every vein, every globule of sweat…”

He smiled, licking his lips. He didn’t take a step forward. I spared a glance at Guy. His eyes were wide. I saw his hands shake. Just a bit. But the glow of Cindy’s light steeled him.

“Creeps don’t get invites!” Trudie blurted. It was fast, subtle, but she quickly shared a look with Pranish and Senegal. The growls from the twins stopped. Trudie began rolling up her sleeves.

Guy moved past her, shocking the werewolf as she was preparing to fight. He didn’t aim his guns anymore. No need. Dozens of his friends were holding steady, waiting on his word. I knew I was, as I held Voidshot aimed at the vamp’s head. But I didn’t fire.

This was Guy’s enemy, first and foremost. He called the shots.

“You know my name, vampire,” Guy spoke, clearly. “But what is yours?”

The vampire grinned, toothily.

“Umbhubhisi,” he answered, simply. I heard gasps from around the church. Guy remained impassive.

“Umbhubhisi,” Guy replied. “How do you know my face? And why come here, to a hunters’ wedding?”

Umbhubhisi’s grin faded, slowly, as the setting sun washed the church in red and gold.

“Vengeance,” he announced, hushed, but his voice still somehow travelling throughout the room. “For Kuzalwa Igazi. My brother.”

“I did not kill him,” Guy replied.

“Liar!” Umbhubhisi suddenly yelled, angry. “You were the last thing he saw. The Blood remembers! The Blood never forgets. And we will avenge our fallen…”

Glass shattered and rained down upon the congregants as dark figures burst through Trudie’s precious stained-glass windows.

With a roar, Heather lashed out at Umbhubhisi, but the vampire deftly dodged the strike, ducking under Kyong’s fist and pulling the two into each other. In a blur, he charged into the room, leaving our guards to collapse, their heads bloodied.

Gunfire erupted, punctuated by the roaring howls of werewolves as Trudie transformed her arms and legs into bestial claws before charging into the fray.

“How do you like my Sunkissed, Blood Hunter!” Umbhubhisi yelled, his laugh booming throughout the church.

The Sunkissed, his swarm of vamps unaffected by the sun, fell on us faster than we could react. Treth manifested above me, deflecting a blow from a vamp and giving me enough time to drive my sword upward. I didn’t hit anything, just as I was knocked over, a vamp wreathed in blood-red smoke, grinning madly, stood above me. That is until a smoking hole appeared in its head. It collapsed. At least they could die!

Brett pulled me up, flinging me into the fray as I cut out towards the monsters who dared crash my friend’s wedding!

I slashed forward, letting my hunter’s senses take over. The room became a blur, as gunmen and mages were overwhelmed by the vamps, and the swordsman and close combatants had to step up to bat.

I ducked low, sliding below a Crusader as they were flung across the room. I shot out with Ithalen, scoring a gash across a vamp’s thigh and following through with a jab to the stomach. Smoke rose from the blows as the vamp hissed and reached out to catch my blade. Treth kicked him in the shins, doubling him over.

“Maybe last year, bloodsucker, but I’m too good for you now,” I spat, driving my sword through his head and out the other side.

Conrad’s shotgun boomed as vamps attempted to charge his position. Pranish incanted volleys of flaming javelins from behind him.

My eyes darted throughout the chaos, looking for those closest to me.

Guy was moving as fast as the vamps, side-stepping attacks and fallen comrades in the melee as he delivered hot silver into the vamps.

Krieg tackled a vampire to the ground just beside me as Brett followed him, using a broken chair leg to drive into the vamp’s head. Again, and again.

“Just like old times, Brett?” Krieg laughed.

“Just like old times,” Brett grunted back.

The two reminisced as more vamps burst through the front door, trampling over the bodies of our comrades. One surged towards Krieg.

I dove over him, willing my coat to burn and held it towards the vamp. The creature hissed as I followed through, cutting into it and then opening fire point blank with Voidshot.

I helped Krieg up from the vamp corpse. He had awe in his eyes.

Not enough time to contemplate that. The vamps were pressing in closer. I stood in front of Krieg and Brett, releasing flurries of sword blows towards the encroaching vamps. They grew wise to the threat I posed and started backing away. Their blood all over the church floor was a testament to my prowess.

Conrad’s shotgun boomed once again. This time closer, as we crossed behind the altar. The Crusaders opened fire from the defensive position, as Ari and other fighters held the frontline alongside the werewolves.

I stopped next to Cindy. She released a volley of golden shards into the vamps, sending them reeling. I expected anger on her face. I was livid! But…she was smiling.

“Sorry, Cins!” I yelled over the cacophony.

“For what?” she yelled back. “This is only appropriate.”

She incanted a quick phrase and let loose a buckshot of purification, setting a vamp aflame. He ran screaming out of the building.

“And you know what this means?” she asked.

Two vamps assaulted my positions. I ducked low, letting Treth take the one who dove towards me as I shot forward, skewering the other.

“What?!” I asked back, as I fell back into line. My ears ran from all the gunfire.

“It means we don’t have to track the bastard down!”

“Enough!” Umbhubhisi yelled, suddenly. The vamps fell back, facing our lines. They growled back at the werewolves, snapping towards them. One of the Gibsons, in wolf form, growled deeply at the vamps, as the other licked a nasty gash across its haunches.

As if appearing from the morass of vampires, Umbhubhisi emerged, holding his arms out.

“We squabble like drunks at a brawl! But this fight is really between the Blood Hunter and me. Step forward or watch us tear your unconscious comrades apart!”

His vamp minions held aloft our allies. Heather, Kyong, Henri and many others. I felt fire rising in my belly. I needed to kill these monsters. All of them!

But, before I could do anything, Guy stepped forward.

He looked at Cindy and nodded. She nodded back.

The vamps backed away, giving Guy and Umbhubhisi room. Umbhubhisi took off his hood and shirt, cracking his neck from side to side, and proceeding to stretch his clawed hands.

“You will tell me how you slew my brother, Blood Hunter.”

“I did not kill him,” Guy replied, calmly, as he drew a blade from a scabbard on his back. I had never seen him use it before. A spear head, coated in silver, attached to a short handle. It glowed with red markings.

“Lies!” Umbhubhisi spat. “You did something to him. Some trickery. What magics did you use? Not silver! Not the blighted purification. You did something to him. I felt it!”

Umbhubhisi roared the last words as he lashed out, knocking Guy to the ground. Brett took a step forward, but Krieg stopped him. I felt for my boyfriend. I wanted to intervene too. But we had to think about our friends.

Umbhubhisi raked his claws towards Guy, who rolled sideways, stabbing upwards with his short spear. He hit home, scoring a hit on the vamp’s thigh. Umbhubhisi didn’t even react.

“We are gods, mortal! The Blood is more than anything else on this puny world. And you want to destroy us?!”

Umbhubhisi kicked Guy in the stomach, just as he tried to stand, sending him flying into the wall. That impact would surely break bones!

But Guy rose.

He aimed his pistol and fired. Umbhubhisi blurred to the side, walking steadily towards him. Guy fired again, his shot going wide as he shook.

Umbhubhisi stopped just before Guy and held the pistol towards his head. Brett swore. He’d been counting. So had Guy. He dropped his gun, thrusting forward with the spearhead.

The vamp slapped the attack away. I heard crunches. Guy winced.

I look at Cindy, watching this. She was no longer smiling. There was determination on her face. And, under her breath, she muttered an incantation.

Guy, beaten, bruised and covered in his own blood, looked at the vamp, dead-on, as Umbhubhisi, a blur of unnatural dark energy, grasped his neck.

“Guy…” Brett whimpered. I felt the tension in the air. And the total, utter helplessness. But, as I watched Cindy, I saw that she was not panicking. She believed in him. And, so should I.

Umbhubhisi lifted Guy above the ground, his legs kicking underneath him.

“Last chance for mercy. How did you kill my brother?”

The vamp saw something in Guy’s eyes, as he released his grip, letting my friend fall to the floor. Guy coughed, retching up blood as he held his throat.

“I…I’ll tell you,” he rasped, quietly.

“I can’t hear you!” Umbhubhisi bellowed, crouching down.

“Come…closer…” Guy wheezed.

Umbhubhisi approached. Closer. Until he was close enough for Guy to whisper in his ear.

“You want to know how your brother died?”

Umbhubhisi nodded, eagerly.

“Then…” Guy said, his hands glowing. “You can ask him yourself!”

In a flash reminiscent of the vampire’s speed, Guy drove his hand and its contents into Umbhubhisi’s mouth. Shocked, Umbhubhisi fell backwards, as hissing and pained roars filled the church.

Spears flew through the chamber, skewering vampires and pinning them to pews and the rocky floor.

Umbhubhisi looked at his hands as they began to glow gold, and then his arms. And, where they glowed gold, blisters started to form and burst across his skin. Then, he burst into golden fire.

“How?” he roared, his voice already becoming raspy.

I heard Xhosa words being incanted across the room. The vampires fell, one by one. No point giving our unseen allies all the glory.

I charged. The Crusaders followed. I cut into the vamp holding Heather, catching her as the vamp’s head fell to the ground.

Behind us, Guy and Cindy stood above the burning vampire, as he stared at his own demise disbelievingly.

As Guy remained silent, Umbhubhisi suddenly started laughing.

“My brothers said I was a fool. And they were right. I die a fool. But, so will you. I tried to give you mercy. To die by my hand would have spared you their torment.”

Umbhubhisi’s head turned towards me. His eyes looked like a werewolf’s as the golden fire incinerated him from within.

“My brothers will drain you dry, mortals. And you will beg for death before the end.”

Guy turned his back on the vamp, allowing it to burn to a husk. Cindy didn’t stop watching until there were no flames left. Just burnt bone and flesh. Lifeless.

She turned to me.

“I had a hunch that Umbhubhisi’s sun resistance was only skindeep. So, I made a little sun substitute for him to taste.”

I couldn’t help but beam. “Cindy, you genius!”

A gunshot and then silence heralded the end of the battle. The surviving purifiers surged from behind Conrad and got to work helping the wounded.

The rest of us watched Guy, as he faced two black men, clothed in black and carrying spears.

They stared at each other in silence. Then, the older of the pair spoke, in accented English.

“You have new scars.”

“A Child of the Blood sought to kill me. He is now dead,” Guy replied, as if it was a ritual. He inclined his head. “You have new scars.”

The man frowned. “The scars are deep within my soul, as I know I abandoned my people.”

His words held shame, but he held his head up high.

“But I won’t abandon them this time.”

A smile slowly formed on Guy’s lips and he crossed over to his comrade. They shook hands, gripping each other’s wrists.

“It is good to see you, Bongani.”

“I am sorry for all I have said and all I have not done, Mgebe.”

“Giles-Mgebe.”

Bongani inclined his head and smiled. A small gesture, but sincere “Congratulations, brother.”

“The vamp was wrong,” Brett whispered, by my side, recognition in his voice. “Guy isn’t the last Blood Hunter.”

I didn’t know what that meant, but seeing the three similarly clad men, the vestiges of the sun glowing on them through the broken windows, something rose up in my heart. Hope, perhaps. But much deeper. It was like light clutched from the jaws of death. And it was powerful.

Cindy concluded speaking to a purifier and sighed, relieved.

“The damage could have been far worse. Nobody is dead.”

“Thank Athena!” I exclaimed.

Brett frowned. “They planned to feed on us. The beasts prefer living meals. If we had failed…”

He trailed off. His expression darkened. I didn’t dwell on the thought, as I reached out to hold his hand.

“But now they’re gonna be ash for the lawn,” Trudie growled, her maw bloodied. She wasn’t dwelling on what could have happened. What did happen is what mattered.

I noted that Krieg looked at my werewolf friend with shock and disgust. Something to watch out for. But not now.

“We’ve beaten one of the founders, Crusaders!” I announced. “And none of us has fallen. I call this victory!”

Cheers erupted throughout the church as I held Ithalen aloft.

But Cindy was rubbing her chin.

“What is it, Cins?” I asked, a bit of cheer fading as my newly wedded friend rubbed her forehead.

She frowned. “Not everyone is here. There are patrols still on duty. What…what if this wasn’t the only attack?”

As if fate itself was waiting, all our phones rang at once. A simple message.

SOS – from every patrol on duty.

Chapter 7.            Statement

The sun had finally set in earnest over Hope City, as the Crusaders set out in convoys towards the last known locations of our comrades. All Crusaders closest to me and Cindy had been at the wedding, but that still left dozens of brave hunters to patrol the streets and answer calls for the hunt.

Anxiety and fear were palpable within Brett’s van, as we rushed towards the slums. Three patrols had sent out an SOS from within that hive of decay. Many more had rung out from across the city.

I didn’t want to spread our dwindling numbers so thin, but did I really have a choice? If every patrol was in danger, then we needed to save every patrol. That was what it meant to be a Crusader. No one left behind.

Trudie’s werewolves bounded towards an SOS in the forests around Table Mountain, while Kyong and Heather (both healed) led groups across the city, answering every SOS.

That left us to go into the slums. I wouldn’t send any of my men to do this themselves. In the labyrinth of shanties and remnants of two necro-empires, we were sure to find the worst resistance.

Cindy and Guy accompanied Krieg, Brett and me. The Blood Hunters disappeared into the night, promising to cover more ground themselves. Guy said we could trust them. I wasn’t inclined to argue. We needed all the help we could get.

“Something is odd…” Cindy announced, as she peered at the portable computer in the back of the van.

“What is it?” I asked, feeling frustration and trepidation mounting. All joy and levity from the wedding had long since faded.

She picked up the computer and showed me the screen.

The three SOS signals in the slums were blinking, as they had been doing before, but had come closer together. And with every blink, they moved.

“They’re moving?”

Cindy nodded, gravely.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Brett offered. “It means they’re still alive.”

Cindy and Guy shared a look. They weren’t so confident.

“Perhaps they’re regrouping,” I added. “Setting up a stronger front against whatever is attacking them.”

“Then why aren’t they answering our calls?” Cindy replied.

I bit my lip and turned to face the road once again.

“Have hope, Kat,” Treth insisted, but I could hear the doubt and fear in his voice.

Cindy gave directions to Brett, as we ramped over potholes and through side roads to finally arrive outside a massive, ruined tenement. The structure was pitch black emphasised by the lack of lights, outlined by the glow of the city behind it.

I stepped outside of the van, Ithalen ready. My coat burst to life, but the orange glow only went so far.

The street was quiet. An eerie silence. Almost foreboding.

“All three SOS signals have merged inside that building,” Cindy indicated, stowing the computer and accepting an automatic pistol from Guy. Her magic was powerful, but bullets were usually faster.

“Treth, can you scout ahead?” I asked.

My ghostly companion manifested before me and nodded, before jogging towards the tenement.

“Treth?” Krieg asked, incredulous.

“Long story,” Brett replied. Sure was.

“Door is clear,” Treth announced, teleporting by my side. “It’s unlocked. No sign of forced entry.”

I took the lead. My friends followed. Quietly. Despite the empty street, and that our lights already made us stick out like fire elementals in a tundra, we kept quiet. No one uttered a word.

I let Treth open the door as I held Ithalen aloft, ready to strike. The door creaked open on rusty hinges. The groaning sound travelled through the building. So much for stealth! But, I was pretty sure that whatever was in this building with our comrades already knew we were here. Our job was to notice them before they had their fangs inch deep into our necks.

“Stick together,” I ordered, voice hushed. Splitting up, unless desperate to cover more ground, was always a foolish move.

Brett and Krieg watched our flanks. My boyfriend carried his shotgun, while Krieg was armed with a submachine gun from Brett’s collection. They both had combat knives and hatchets on their sides. Good. Close combat was going to be inevitable in such confined quarters.

Treth stayed just far enough ahead that he could scout for us, while still being able to shout or teleport back to me. He walked slowly, while almost gliding above the ground. As a spirit, he wasn’t really affected by gravity. Or the laws of physics. But he hadn’t developed a propensity for flying. Yet, at least. I wondered what he would do when I sprouted angel wings again.

The warm glow of my coat was not enough to fully light up the hallways, and even our flashlights always fell short of these never-ending tunnels.

We crossed past closed and half open doors to long abandoned apartments. The smell of rotting rat flesh and faeces wafted through the halls every so often. Too rank and old to have anything to do with our comrades. I hoped.

Our footfalls, and the shifting of gear upon our backs as we scanned our surroundings, were the only sounds. Jarring in contrast to the terrifying silence of the night.

We stopped every so often by apartment doors, nudging them open with our weapons, ready to fight whatever nightmare hid within. We found nothing. Nothing but the carcasses of a long lost life. I wondered what monster, necromancer, gang or epidemic had left this building abandoned. It had plenty of rooms. It should be a goldmine in an overcrowded city of squalor. What horrors could keep away the desperate from such a place?

I peered out a window, caked in dirt. I could see nothing on the other side but couldn’t help but feel that something was watching me through the blackness. I sped up my pace.

This place was dark. Not only because of the lack of light, but in the way everything felt. Oppressive. Claustrophobic. As if the inky black were walls, and they were pressing in.

We found ourselves back where we had started, by the entrance. We had scouted the entire bottom floor of this damned building.

Brett indicated a stairway with the flashlight mounted on his shotgun.

I proceeded, wincing as every step whined and groaned under my weight. I feared the stairs would give out from under us. I stopped on the next floor, pressed in by the darkness of endlessly criss-crossing halls. I couldn’t imagine living here. Like an ant in a colossal nest. Every hall looked alike. Every door was the same. How could one not get lost?

Treth surveyed the entryways to each hall, as I listened to the creaking behind me as everyone mounted the stairs, letting out a chorus of almost spectral whines.

Guy finally arrived at the top, and the night went silent once again. I started to miss the stairway symphony.

Treth didn’t give any indication of which hall was best. I wished we could just track the SOS beacons. But they weren’t powerful enough to track their exact locations within this mess. And we didn’t want to alert our enemies by shouting out for our comrades.

I stepped forward, deciding to take the middle hallway, as Guy grabbed my shoulder. I stopped.

In the faint glow of my fire coat, I watched him point down the hall to the left, then cup his ear.

“Listen,” he was signalling.

I tip-toed towards the left hallway, holding my left hand over my ear, while my grip tightened on Ithalen’s hilt.

I heard nothing. Just the eerie stillness of this damnable place.

Just silence…

And then, a faint chatter.

Sound!

Noticing the excitement in my gait, and the tenseness of my shoulders, my comrades formed a combat formation. A wedge with me at front, guarding Cindy in the middle.

We advanced towards the noise in the night.

It grew louder at our approach. Clearer. It was an inane chatter, peppered with an odd warble. As we drew closer, I realised that the sound was laughter. A crowd laughing. But muffled and distant. Even more so than the source of the sound itself.

It was only when we entered the last hall, where we saw light pooling outside an open double-door, that we heard clearly what was being said.

Jokes. A back and forth between sitcom actors, punctuated by canned laughter.

A TV.

The presence of life and civilisation in these dead halls should have calmed me. Instead, it sent a chill down my spine.

Treth went ahead, as we kept close behind him. He stopped dead, his vision glued to whatever was inside this room. We didn’t give him a chance to warn us.

The room had, once upon a time, been some sort of hall. Perhaps a community centre when this building still had life. It had a higher ceiling than most of the rooms, and a large open space.

And every inch of it was covered in glistening red.

The TV played an old sitcom from pre-Cataclysm. A stark contrast to what lay around it. I recognised the faces, but my mind wilfully forgot their names. I couldn’t bear to give individuality to the corpses. I don’t think I could have handled the scene if I did.

“Fucking monsters…” Krieg swore, revulsion and rage in his voice, as he stepped forward, his boots splashing on the blood coating the floors.

I didn’t move. My eyes unconsciously darted around the scene, trying not to look, but needing to see.

At once, the scene came at me in a rush. Every last detail. The crucifixions. The agony in their eyes. The impaled heads on either side of the door, watching the television set in perpetual torment.

I had known these men and women. Cindy counted under her breath, then covered her mouth. In disgust and abject horror.

I had already guessed it. Eighteen Crusaders, strewn across a room, bathed in their own blood, as an outdated sitcom played on a TV held by their severed arms.

I staggered forward. Blood dripped from the ceiling, hissing as it hit my coat.

I saw three blinking lights on top of the TV. The beacons. Neatly arranged on top.

“Stay alert,” Guy said. Calm. But I heard just a slight crack in his voice. “They could still be here. It may be a trap.”

“This isn’t a trap,” Brett announced, his voice dark. Husky. There was barely held rage there, as his eyes remained glued to the head of one of his friends.

“This was a statement. Not a single drop has been drunk. There was no feeding. No hunger. This was a slaughter for its own sake. And they wanted us to know. They wanted us to fear, as much as our friends did. This isn’t a trap. This isn’t a battle. This is terror.”

As if in response to Brett’s statement, the sitcom ended, and the jingle of Hope City News began to play. I paid it no mind. It was a dull, white noise at the back of my head, as my soul screamed for the comrades I had lost.

Until the TV spoke my name.

“Kat Drummond,” a voice came from the TV.

I turned towards the screen. I recognised the set. It was the Hope City News set. Anchor’s desk and all. And the usual anchor was there, with a knife at her throat.

A dark skinned man with long, dreadlocked hair, red eyes and perfectly normal human teeth stood behind the anchor, holding a curved dagger to her throat.

In the background, dark figures held the rest of the crew hostage. Including a familiar, white-haired figure.

“Miriam…” I exclaimed, a barely contained sob in my voice. Oh, Rifts! What had happened? What had we done to let this happen?!

“My name is Ukwesaba Igazi of the Izingane Zegazi. This is now our city. All who oppose us will be destroyed. All who are foolish enough to resist us will become our ghouls. You can hide under the sun during the day, but every night we will wreak  terror upon this city that will make you wish for your precious Titan to awake once again. There is only one way you can stop this.”

The vampire spoke casually. As if it were human. But that only enhanced the menace. Every word dripped with something that made the primal side of me want to flee. To hide.

Perhaps the theories were right – that Ukwesaba could feed off terror itself.

“As the new rulers of your pathetic city, Kat Drummond and Guy Mgebe are now outlaws. For every night that they are at large, and for every night that, as a city, you allow them to escape our justice, we shall drain this city dry. Your children will die. Your homes will burn. And it will be the fault of your so-called heroes.”

As casually as one would open a can of soda, he slit the throat of the news anchor. She choked as blood pooled from her neck and mouth. She tried to gasp, but it came out as pained gurgles.

“No…” I whimpered; my eyes glued to Miriam. She stared back, as if looking at me. She looked defiant. There was no fear. No remorse. She nodded, once before a dagger carved its way across her throat. Miriam fell limp, without a struggle.

Ukwesaba looked back at the camera, right into my soul.

“The outlaws are located at Darkholme Terrace, nestled deep within the slums. Bring them alive or dead, and we shall spare you our reckoning.”

The broadcast ended, and the TV erupted into static.

Silence. And then the rumble of engines and shouting, as the city came for our heads.

Chapter 8.            Persona Non Grata

I would have joked that I felt like Frankenstein’s Monster. But, there was a hollow feeling within me. Disbelieving. Empty. Stunned. I couldn’t bring myself to even speak.

“We have to get back to HQ!” Brett yelled, as we heard shouts from the floor below.

Miriam was dead. My men…dead. And Guy and me…we were the reason.

I felt both a ghostly and fleshy hand take me by the arms and pull me out of the blood soaked room. Everything felt hazy. Like a dream.

I hoped I would wake up soon.

Yells woke me from my stupor, as electric lights and the fiery glow of a flaming torch lit up the stairway. Angry faces yelled obscenities at us, punctuated by an order.

“Get them!”

These were humans. Desperate humans. I didn’t want to kill them. Brett and Krieg stepped in front of me, aiming their guns at the mob.

But I didn’t want anyone more to die…

Cindy leapt in front, letting out an arcane cry. The mob fell to the floor, screaming and clutching their eyes.

“They’re stunned. For now. Get to the van!”

Hapless arms grasped towards us as we rushed down the stairs. Krieg spat on one of them.

“Coward!”

Guy pushed him forward.

Thank Athena that the van was still in one piece! Brett was angry. I didn’t know what he’d do if the mob had destroyed his precious van.

We buckled up and Brett started the ignition, just as a fiery haze appeared down the street. Another mob! The men from within shambled out of the building. They pointed at us and began throwing rocks. A Molotov cocktail hit the windscreen, letting flames wash over the glass.

With a roar, the van started up. Thank Athena once again!

Brett reversed at full throttle, hitting something and then rushing forward towards the mob. He didn’t slow down. He sped up. I looked at my boyfriend’s face. I didn’t see any warmth there. No compassion. Just rage. Almost mechanical hatred.

The angry mob jumped out of the way, as we tore down the street.

“We need to get back into the city. Don’t worry about police,” Cindy said. “The Spirit of the Law will bind them from doing anything to us.”

The van swerved as something heavy hit it. A thud followed. And another. Gunfire! Where was Pranish when we needed a shield spell?

The enchanted hull of the van kept us safe, but every thud made me shudder. The Spirit of the Law may protect us from the police…but civilians were a different story.

Cindy’s cell rang as the thuds ended. We’d outdriven the shooters.

“Hello?” she answered.

She paled. Then nodded, even though the caller couldn’t see her. She hung up.

“What is it?” Guy asked.

“That was Duer…people are attacking the house.”

I felt a sting in my gut. Alex was at the house!

“They are fending them off with pixie magic. Apparently, Alex has already clawed out someone’s eye. They are fine, they say!”

Not that the pixies would ever admit or even acknowledge if they were losing!

Guy reached over and gripped Cindy’s hand. She was shivering, despite her optimistic words.

The van shook and I almost hit my chin on the dashboard as something collided into us.

“Fuckers!” Brett yelled, swerving towards the assailant.

I peered out the window, keeping my head low. The glass was enchanted, but best to be safe.

A bullet hit the window, sending spiderweb cracks across the surface. Brett turned hard, smashing into a car keeping pace with us. Bullets sprayed wide as he hit the gunmen.

Was every gangster in Hope City going to be coming after us?

The car kept pace, smashing into our wheels and keeping up fire. Brett glowed red with anger as his knuckles went white on the steering wheel.

We turned onto an on-ramp towards the highway, flying over the curb, and rushing into oncoming traffic. Cars hooted and flew out of the way as Brett sped between them. The car was no longer beside us but was still firing at our rear. Thud, thud, thud.

Suddenly, Brett hit the breaks. Thank the Vortex, Cataclysm and every god, real or fake, for seatbelts!

The car crashed into our rear, crumpling under our enchanted, reinforced hull. Without even so much as looking through our rear window, Brett turned into the correct lane and joined the safety of the herd.

We crossed the invisible line out of the slums and into Hope City proper. As we did so, our radios and phones began beeping with notifications.

Cindy’s already pale face went even paler.

“They’re…everywhere. Attacks all over the city. Not just mobs. Vampires too. And…they’re going after our families.”

They called Ukwesaba “The Terror”. They were right.

We weren’t attacked again as we exited the highway and drove towards the HQ. We were silent, letting the pinging of our notifications fill the void.

It was a blissful silence. A calm before the storm. As fire greeted us outside the HQ.

A mob, double the size of the protest groups from before, was assembled outside the Crusader HQ. They had set alight a Crusader van and held aloft a strawman wearing a fake salamander coat, which they then set alight too.

Brett didn’t slow down. I called for him to stop. But he was deafened by rage.

The mob scattered as the van drifted in front of the HQ, crushing the burning effigy. I could hear the muffled shouts through the car.

Crusaders wearing riot gear, usually used against zombies, rushed out to form a perimeter.

The vampires didn’t need to fight us. They just needed to get the city to do it for them.

My mind screamed at me to keep moving. To go and save the pixies and Alex. To find the Davisons. To find everyone that I’ve ever loved and hold them close.

But I couldn’t. I had to be here. I had to be smart.

A masked Crusader tapped on my window, signalling for us to get out.

I opened the door and jumped out, just as someone opened fire. Treth dropped Ithalen into my hand. But it wasn’t needed.

In a flash of tiger print, Kyong was on top of a gunman in the crowd, pulverising him into the ground. Blood sprayed, covering protesters and Crusaders.

Screams and shouts erupted. Some protesters fled, as others charged. Kyong lashed out, roaring like a tiger himself. Even the calmer Crusaders began to strike with their batons and even blades, as the mob pressed even closer.

Things were escalating way too fast.

Cindy pulled me by the arm, as Jane stood at the doorway, flanked by Crusaders. She wore a bulletproof vest. She beckoned us to come inside.

“It’s chaos!” she exclaimed, shouts and more gunfire erupting to add credence to the statement.

She looked me up and down, noticing the red on my boots and the look in my eyes.

“What did you see?” she asked, hushed.

“Squads 4 through 6 are dead,” I replied, simply, and pushed past her, even as she looked like she had more to say.

The halls and reception were crowded with injured Crusaders and civilians. Many of the civvies look eerily like Crusaders I knew. Families. Thank Athena that they’d managed to get them to safety!

I turned into the Mosh-Pit and almost fainted as I sighed with relief.

Trudie and Pranish stood with her parents, Charne and Mike. Mike had a bandage around his arm but was standing. And standing by them was Mandy, my aunt.

I ran towards them, as my aunt and foster mom cried out my name. I embraced both at the same time as they squeezed me, paying no mind to the smouldering scales of my coat.

“I’m so glad you’re okay!” I sobbed, tears falling freely. I didn’t care who saw.

“We’re fine!” Mike said, grinning, and indicating his arm. “You should see the other guy.”

I heard a rumble in Trudie’s throat. The fact that anyone would attack her, our family, filled me with rage as well.

I turned to my friend, questioningly. Her eyes were afire.

“No one down among the wolves,” she said, but then turned to Pranish. She hid her face. Seems she was barely holding it together.

Pranish put his arm around her and looked at me.

“They torched the house.”

“What?! Who? Why?”

“It’s okay, Kat!” Charne pled. “We’re safe. That’s what matters.”

Memories of the Davison’s house flashed before me. Playdates as a kid. My parents smiling in the dining room, as Trudie, Pranish and I watched cartoons in the lounge. And a lifetime living with them after my parents were killed.

And that house was gone.

“It’s only stuff, dear,” Charne said. She was smiling. Probably shock. I squeezed her tighter, repeating, over and over.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

She tried to console me, rubbing my back. But nothing could change what had happened.

I finally released Charne and turned to my aunt. She looked uninjured. Knowing her, she’d probably been in some deep archive which vampires didn’t know about. But, before I could say anything to her, I saw the last face I wanted to see from across the hall.

He usually had an arrogant, self-assured grin on his petulant, fucking face. But he wasn’t smiling this time. Agent Phillip Brown looked like he was at a funeral.

“Excuse me,” I said, quietly, and angrily, as I ushered past my aunt.

I strode across the Mosh-Pit. Crusaders stepped aside to let me pass. Some recoiled as they dodged the sparks from my coat. Phillip took a step back, and then ducked as I punched the wall behind him.

“Kat, stop!”

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” I yelled. Everyone turned, going silent.

“I’m on your side, Kat! I’m here to help.”

“Hah!” I spat. “Like the fucking Chairman cares about helping us! He’d sooner hand us over to the vamps.”

“He would,” Phillip explained, sweat running down his face. It was the most afraid I’d ever seen him. “But I don’t work for Riaan.”

I resisted trying to punch him again. My hand stung. I flexed the fingers. Still worked. But there was a scrape on my knuckles.

“Why are you here?” I asked, more quietly, but my words still dripping with rage and scorn.

“The Empire has invaded,” he said, standing upright and brushing off fictitious dirt from his blazer. “Vampires or not, the Izingane Zegazi are agents of the Zulu Empire. My enemy. Our enemy. They have never gotten this far west. Until now. This isn’t just your fight, Kat Drummond. This is an invasion of the sovereign republic I have sworn to defend.”

“You still haven’t answered my question.”

“I have. I’m here to help you. To keep the Chairman off your back. To give you the aid you need to send these invaders back across the Three Point Line.”

“Why?” I sighed. “Why not just hand me in? Trade me for peace.”

“Because we do not negotiate with terrorists. Do you think we have survived among this sea of darkness by being cowards? We don’t hand over the Last Light to some barbarians. We don’t betray a single citizen of the State of Good Hope!”

There was passion in Phillips words. A passion I’d never heard in him before. I had never been sure of the sincerity of his words before. He was an enigma. A scumbag. But now…I didn’t know.

“What are you? Really?”

“I am a patriot, Kat Drummond. As all Titan-fearing citizens of this great nation should be. And I won’t hand over our protector to monsters.”

I stared into the agent’s eyes. Intently. Like I’d never done before. He met my gaze. And I saw no lie.

“I still don’t like you. For all the deaths you’ve caused.”

“I will die for my city. And if I die hated, then so be it.”

I nodded. In acknowledgement, but with just a hint of respect.

I turned away from him.

“I have a long night ahead of me, Phillip. I don’t suspect I’ll be getting any sleep.”

“That is only right. A patriot, a hero, never sleeps. They must be eternally awake. Eternally vigilant. Eternally willing to die for a cause greater than themselves.”

Chapter 9.            Distress

The sun broke through the clouds and darkness of the bloody night before. I could practically hear the plaintive sigh of relief from the city that had faced a night of such horror.

We had bled. Not just hunters. But our families. An entire city, torn apart by monsters and opportunists.

Vampires attacked us from every shadow. My arms ached from swinging my sword. My back stung from where they had scratched me. Ghouls attacked orphanages and hospitals. And what the vamps didn’t do themselves, looters and gangsters worsened by taking advantage of the chaos.

Half a dozen corpses lay outside Crusader HQ. The police were investigating. No one was reporting Kyong yet, but there were witnesses.

We did our best to save as many lives as we could. But we were too few, with too large a city to save. And we had suffered more than anyone else.

Duer and the pixies were burying their dead. Themba had managed to get home and chase away the looters. Alex, thank Athena, was fine.

Heather was in court, facing murder charges. She’d killed three men while defending her family. She would probably get off on self-defence but, as someone who had been in a similar situation, it was a massive rigmarole and definitely not what Heather needed.

Many Crusaders had holed up in their own homes, getting ready for another night. Someone had released the addresses of all Crusaders online. Jane suspected it was our good friend, the government mole. If it was, that was more blood on Chairman Riaan’s hands.

Regardless, it meant fewer hunters pursuing the enemy. And fewer protectors on the streets.

The dawn brought relief. But only barely, as my body felt like it was being weighed down by the corpses I’d seen crucified in the slum block.

We couldn’t handle another night like this. We couldn’t lose more men. But we were going to. That was the painful truth of the matter.

I fell into my office chair, letting blood stain the leather. Alex snaked his away around my legs. It was safer for him here. We weren’t leaving the HQ. It was our fortress. I heard the muffled shouts of protesters outside. The deaths had not deterred them. Perhaps, it had enraged them further.

Almost unconsciously, I reached for my phone. We needed help. All the help we could get. I scrolled through my contacts, pausing as I saw Miriam’s. I still couldn’t believe she was dead. She had been a constant. Indestructible. In the course of her decades long career, she had dissected and tested on more vampires than any other individual in the world. And done so without so much as a scratch. We didn’t think she could die. She couldn’t be dead. But she was. I had to accept that. And I had to avenge her.

Finally, I selected Gareth Blanche’s number. He had sworn to help us when we needed it. He had already, at the Battle. But this was a new battle. One we couldn’t fight alone. We needed more werewolves for this war, even if packs naturally didn’t get along.

“Drummond,” Gareth answered, almost growling.

“Gareth…we need help.” I cut straight to the chase, ashamed of the desperation in my voice.

“We do too, hunter. We lost many at your Battle. And we lost more last night to the vampires. I am sorry, but we have to look after our own packs.”

He hung up without allowing me to respond.

So much for that. I searched for a contact for Girin, the goblin shaman who was a form of leader among the orcs and goblins. But I didn’t have his number. I felt Candace’s presence and concern, but I couldn’t call on her. It wasn’t time for her to return to Hope City yet. And even if she was here, I couldn’t do that to her. Her dark magic corrupted her. I would rather she used it as sparingly as possible. If at all.

Who else could we contact? The police and CDF were being kept on a short leash. Puretide had absorbed into our group. And so many others were dead…

Our list of allies was wearing thin.

I dropped my phone onto the desk and stood. I couldn’t sleep, despite my weariness. Treth watched on, pity in his eyes.

Perhaps, I could summon the Army of the Vessel. But that wouldn’t work. This wasn’t a war. No number of ghosts would be able to stop these attacks. I’d have to be everywhere at once to lead them. This was sheer terror. They attacked us everywhere. And they got thugs to do their dirty work. No, not even thugs. Desperate people, people who had lost their families.

But they were hurting us. Going after our homes. Our families! We were meant to protect them, but when it came down to it, we had to come first.

I exited my office, not wanting to be confined, and ran into Krieg, sitting on a couch, covered in blood, as he reloaded his magazines on a coffee table. Silver headed bullets were lined up in neat rows, ready to be fired into a bloodsucking monster.

Krieg nodded at me in acknowledgement.

“Armoury is full, Last Light. I hope this is fine.”

I grunted in reply, before walking past him, and stopping. I didn’t feel like talking. I wanted quiet. A time to rest. But something possessed me to speak to Brett’s old friend. Something he and Brett had said the day before. I turned back to him.

“Is this like old times, Krieg? Was this what life was like in the Corps?” I tried to stop the bitterness in my voice, but it came out as a hiss. Hot and angry. I didn’t realise how much I resented him being here. As if his arrival had signalled this becoming real. That a vampire hunter precipitated vampire. Which was, of course, nonsense. It was always the other way round.

Krieg stopped his reloading. He held a single bullet between his thumb and forefinger. He rubbed the silver tip, tenderly. Contemplatively.

“To be hated is a small cost to pay for doing the right thing,” he finally replied, without looking up.

The answer, honestly, surprised me. It sounded almost like something Treth would say. And was awfully like what Phillip had said.

“We were hated by those we protected,” he continued. “Feared, reviled. And chased into the darkness. Hunted down by those whom we had saved. But that did not matter. Adoration is not why we fight.”

It is about doing the right thing…

“It’s about the kill. To fulfil the vendetta. To let there be no more monsters in our world.”

And that’s where we were different.

I sighed, heavily, and sat down next to the Corpsman. He was very possibly Brett’s oldest surviving friend. Perhaps, I should give him the benefit of the doubt. Corps or not. Perhaps, he could change.

“What was Brett like in the Corps?”

“Brett?” Krieg smiled. A genuine smile, unhindered by the thrill of violence. It was the smile of a child.

“I remember a boy, just a bit younger than me, being introduced as 56-3. The only survivor of the 3rd new division. The elders were excited about him. Said he held promise. That he’d faced a vamp lord and survived.”

“But what was he like?”

Krieg looked confused. He stopped rubbing the bullet and held it in a fist.

“He was like the rest of us,” he said. “A Corpsman to the core. He was sad. He was angry. He missed his family. And he loved his new family.”

He looked at me, and I saw the hint of sadness in his eyes.

“I can guess how you feel about us. What you have heard about the Corps…but you need to know that whatever is true, or a lie, we were a family. We’d do anything for each other. We’d die for each other. And we’d die for it. Because the Corps was greater than any of us.”

He looked back at his hand.

“And now it’s gone…leaving us.”

He contemplated his closed fist, for about a minute of silence. He looked up.

“I know you killed Commander Finley.”

“I…” I exclaimed, shocked.

“Brett told me everything.” Krieg nodded. “You did the right thing. The thing Finley would have wanted.”

He looked out the window.

“We must not suffer the monster to live, Finley would have said. Even about himself.”

He sneered. “If only you’d apply the same mercy to the werewolves in your ranks.”

I stood up, suddenly, knocking the coffee table. Some loose rounds rolled onto the floor. Krieg didn’t look shocked.

“This isn’t the Corps,” I said, coldly. “Don’t forget that.”

I spun and left the room as fast as I could.

“Brett isn’t like him, Kat,” Treth said. “He loves Trudie and the others. He’d never let them get hurt.”

I knew that. I did. I loved Brett. Not for his hate, but for his love. But, with all that was happening, I felt rage growing in my love’s heart. A rage that could turn to darkness if left unchecked.

I stopped in the old upstairs hallway. After acquiring the building next door, it had become a quaint, underused transit point to Cindy’s and my office. That, and what was supposed to be Pranish’s office before Trudie and him acquired the werewolf compound.

But, despite Pranish hardly using this office, I heard rapid typing on a keyboard. White light shone from outside an otherwise dark room. Pranish had not turned the main light on. Typical. Trudie and him were the same in that regard. They became so engrossed in whatever they were doing that they forgot about the world around them. I wasn’t sure if this shared flaw made them more or less compatible. Well, at least Trudie didn’t actually need a light anymore.

I entered the office. It used to be a security room when this was once a bank. There were still some old monitors and computer parts lying on the shelves. They had been pushed aside, as Pranish sat at a desk, hunched over a glowing laptop, while muttering to himself. Taped to the wall was a map of the city, covered in notes and thumbtacks of various colours.

“Did you manage to get any sleep?” I asked. Pranish jumped and I heard a crunch. He had been chewing the end of a pen idly. Said pen was now missing its end.

“Kat! Ah, yeah. Good morning. But doesn’t feel like that.” He shook his head, coming back to his senses. Seemed he hadn’t gotten any sleep. He blinked himself awake. I contemplated turning on the overhead light, but that would have been way too cruel.

“I was…trying to stop the vamps last night,” he replied. The hesitance suggested he didn’t believe he had made much of a difference.

He looked back at the laptop screen. As if shielding himself from what he was about to say.

“It’s hard to hold the key to power, but not be able to use it properly. To be a moment too slow. To forget the words you need just as you require them.”

“Wizardry isn’t for close quarters, Pranish. No one expects you to be able to cast like a sorcerer. Wizardry is its own noble pursuit.”

“But I am a sorcerer, Kat! Just with a spark too weak to do anything with. Maybe my parents are right! Maybe I should have focused on expanding my spark. To be able to use my ice properly. To let its cold, unfeeling gaze pierce my very soul. I wouldn’t be me anymore, but at least then people would be safe!”

“Shut up,” I growled. Pranish went silent, shocked. “No one insults my friend. Much less themselves! And I won’t hear any moronic talk about growing your spark. You left that behind because you believed in wizardry. You believed in knowledge over unearned power. And don’t you dare wish you were someone else. We love you, Prani, and we don’t want anyone else.”

Pranish was still, but I saw some tension leave his shoulders. I walked closer to him, peering over his shoulder. He had a digital map open on his laptop. Looked like the map we used for tracking Crusaders out in the field.

“You’re tracking the vampire attacks?”

Pranish nodded. “I’m trying to. All the humans attacking us last night make things harder. And a lot of the Crusaders didn’t bother to report anything in. Can’t say I blame them. It was chaos.”

And it was going to be chaos again if we didn’t stop them before nightfall.

“Found anything out?”

Pranish shook his head. “The strikes were surgical. Far apart. There must have been many vampires acting separately across the city. But we already knew that. I suspect that the gentleman who attacked us at the compound was either acting as a decoy or was just foolhardy. All the other attacks were on soft targets. Lone, isolated patrols. Hospitals and shopping malls. Our families…”

“Miriam had suggested that Umbhubhisi was a hothead. I think he wanted to take us down before his brothers could.”

“So, he underestimated us?” Pranish asked. Almost disbelieving.

“Not the first who has. But I suspect that this Ukwesaba is far more intelligent.”

“It is hard to say,” Pranish replied, zooming out on the laptop’s map and comparing it to his physical map. “Every strike seems surgical, but it’s also chaotic. Sporadic. Not every family was attacked by vampires. Many, even some of the closest to us like the Davisons, were left to common thugs. And there isn’t any geographical pattern to the other attacks. A hospital was hit on the other side of the slums in Stellenbosch, while Groote Schuur Hospital was bombed here. Both had vampire sightings. And, as far as I know, there’s no connection between the Crusaders and both those hospitals.”

“Terror isn’t about attacking your enemies,” I said. Pranish raised his eyebrow quizzically at that. So did Treth.

“Terror isn’t aimed at eliminating your opponents,” I explained. “It’s a show. A statement. A message. The victims of the terror aren’t the real targets. They’re just a means to an end. The vampires don’t care about the patients or staff in the hospitals, or even the families they’re killing. They only care about what we think about the attacks. They want us to be scared. They want us to get desperate. They want everyone to know that they might be next…”

But, most of all, they wanted to push me to the point that I could no longer stand not handing myself in.

“Pranish,” I continued, after a brief pause. “Is there any way we can guess where they’re going to strike next?”

He hesitated, and then shook his head. “I’m sorry, Kat. But it doesn’t seem like there’s any real pattern at all. As you said, they just want to spread terror. We can’t plan for that. Chaos and misdirection is their friend. They don’t need to plan. They just need to keep up the killing…”

His forehead creased and I saw something in his eyes I had never seen before.

“I don’t know if we can win this, Kat.”

“We have to,” I replied, turning to leave.

But I wasn’t sure if I believed my own words.

Chapter 10.    Sacrifice

Pandemonium was their friend. And every night, they had another opportunity to cause wanton destruction.

How could you plan against chaos?

Monsters, no matter how beastly, had plans. They had motives. You could understand them. Predict them. You could guess where they’d go next. Set bait. Set a trap. Set an ambush. Slay them.

Even vampires were usually simple. You knew they wanted blood. But they were also still human, kinda. You could bargain with them. Count on their rational impulses. You could prepare.

I wasn’t sure if Ukwesaba and his Izingane Zegazi were rational or not. But, if they were feeding, we hadn’t been able to catch them off-guard while they were doing it. Because feeding was not the goal. All they wanted was to cause terror. A terror that would push the city to give up its heroes.

And it was working.

Another night, and another bloodbath. No Crusaders died, fortunately. But some family had. I got news that the widowed mother of a long dead Crusader had been killed. I remembered her. I had delivered news of her son’s death personally.

The Izingane Zegazi wanted everyone to know that they would never be safe. Leaving the Crusaders, or even dying, would not spare their families.

There was no way out other than to turn Guy and me in.

No Crusader had shown any real indication of doing so. We had fought together, bled together. I trusted them. All of them. But I wouldn’t blame them if there was at least some doubt going through their minds.

I went to my apartment rather than HQ, so I could escape their stares as well as the protesters. I snuck past the picketers and looters and managed to get back to my home. Fortunately, it seemed my address hadn’t been leaked. Thank Athena for that! Alex was now kept safe with me. I wouldn’t know what to do if anything happened to him. I knew the Mentor could get in, but if he had meant to kill my cat to get to me, he would have done so already. It was vamps and looters attacking Cindy’s far more vulnerable house that I was worried about presently.

I stood on my balcony, overlooking my city. Smoke rose below the base of Table Mountain. The hospital. It had been hit again last night. Apparently, patients and staff had been dragged away. I had Crusaders looking for them. They were trying their best, but police were standing in the way. Even those we had been friendly with in the force were eying us with contempt and blame.

How soon until one of my own Crusaders turned on us? And, could I wait that long?

“Perhaps, I should hand myself in…” I couldn’t help but mutter, letting the breeze carry my words into the void.

The shattering of glass woke me from my reverie. I held out my hand, waiting for Ithalen, but it didn’t appear.

Standing behind me, over a dropped plastic grocery bag with shattered contents, was Brett, his eyes disbelieving. Treth stood next him, his eyes angry and disappointed.

“How could you say that?” Treth hissed. “How could you even contemplate that that would be a good idea? Think about yourself for once! You don’t know how many people you hurt when you don’t.”

“How can I not think about it?!” I yelled, looking pointedly at Treth as Brett remained pale and silent. “People are dying. For me! Because I shook a fucking hornet’s nest and invited them to attack us. I invited the Necro Lord to fight us. I taunted the vampires. It was me! And now innocent people are paying the price.”

I shook my head. I tried to be angry. Angry so I wouldn’t cry. So, I wouldn’t look at the expression on Brett’s face.

Treth shone a tinted red, and then shook his head. He disappeared into the void. Leaving me with Brett, alone in our apartment. Even Alex had made himself scarce.

I stood apart from my boyfriend, trying not to meet his gaze, as acid rose up in my stomach. The longer the silence stretched, the more I pondered: What have I done?!

“Brett, I’m…”

“Vampires,” he interrupted, voice cold. “Took my family. They turned my sister, then they killed the rest of my family. They burned my home. They took…everything. Even when I was in the Corps, it was vampires that took my friends away from me. So, I fought them. But, in doing so, they took away my humanity. They took away my childhood.”

He shook his head, and I saw anger in his face now. Anger, and determination.

“I’m not going to let them take you. No matter the cost.”

“Even if it destroys our city?”

He nodded. “Nothing else matters to me. Guy is my brother, and you are my life. I will never let anything bad happen to the two of you.”

I let his eyes meet mine. There was no machine-like, cold anger there. I saw love, and I saw rage, and I saw sadness and loss. And above all that, I saw fear.

It wasn’t just me who would suffer if I sacrificed myself. Treth was right. And, I loved Brett. And I loved Treth. And all those I’d leave behind.

“I’m never going to surrender to them,” I whispered, loud enough for him to hear. No matter the cost.

I approached the love of my life with open arms and embraced him. I held his head to my shoulder as my flame coat purred soothingly.

“I am not going anywhere that you can’t follow.”

I looked him in the eyes and summoned up a weak smile.

“Besides, when would I ever do something a vamp would want? Like they’d even hold up their side of the deal!”

Brett almost smiled, but his frown soon returned. He looked at the floor, where he had dropped the groceries. White wine and beer were mingling in a puddle on the tiled floor.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I had a nice early evening planned. Some relaxation before…”

Before the onslaught began anew.

I caressed his cheek. Brett was strong. One of the strongest men I knew. But there was a fragility there. A vulnerability that he let only a few people see.

“We will have plenty more chances to relax…with each other. And besides, we don’t need wine and beer…”

This time, he did smile as I grinned mischievously. Just as my phone decided to ring. I hugged Brett close, ignoring it. I had done my duty enough already. All night! It seemed an entire lifetime. I could ignore one phone call…

But it didn’t stop.

Brett released me and eyed my pocket, resigned and disappointed. I sighed. If frustration could be weaponised, I wouldn’t have to worry about the Izingane Zegazi or the Conclave! Hell, Riaan would probably explode from the might of my sheer, palpable stress levels.

I checked my cell. The caller was Jane. Typical that an ex-politician would add to my problems.

“This better be good,” I replied, looking at Brett apologetically. He began to pick up the shattered bottles and mop up the spill.

“Better than good, Kat!” Jane exclaimed, ignoring the venom in my voice. “Conrad and I have finally tracked down our mutual friend. The rodent we’ve been looking for.”

“Not in the mood for riddles, metaphors or puns, Jane.”

“The mole, Kat. We found the mole. And we have him tied up at the HQ, awaiting your interrogation.”

Chapter 11.    Mole

Jane was right. This was good news. And it couldn’t wait, no matter how much I wanted it to.

“Go, Kat,” Brett said, sounding a bit disappointed, but resolute. “I’ll go back to the store and buy some more of…”

He indicated the shattered liquor.

I kissed him and then left. I felt Treth return to my side.

“Am I forgiven?” I asked.

“That’s not the problem,” Treth grumbled. “It shouldn’t be about forgiveness or apologies. You are too flippant with your life. You think it’s currency that can be traded away and gambled for the good of others.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted me to be? What you taught me? To be a selfless knight, battling darkness for eternity?”

“I…yeah. But I changed.”

I felt some guilt from my ghostly friend. I reached out towards him as I arrived at the bottom of the stairs.

“We all change, Treth. And we all make mistakes. I am tired. Tired of all this. We didn’t even get a respite after the Necro Lord. I just want to sleep knowing that I won’t get bombed in the night.”

“I know, Kat. Me too. I’m sorry for lashing out.”

“No need, my friend. As you said, this isn’t about apologies.”

I mounted my bike and rushed back to HQ. There were no more protesters. And no more bodies either. A half dozen Crusaders milled about outside. One flagged me down. I recognised her. Bethany was a veteran of the Flesh Factory and the Battle. She’d seen a lot in very little time. Had been a newbie just a week before.

“Kyong was arrested,” she said, simply.

“What?! Why? How?”

Stupid questions. I knew exactly why.

Bethany frowned. Her features were obscured by her dark visor.

“A snitch, or someone got a photo during the chaos. I’m sorry, Commander. We thought we got to all the witnesses.”

That made it sound like we were some sort of crime syndicate! Perhaps Riaan was right?

No! He made us do this. The blood was on his hands. If he hadn’t incited these riots in the first place, then we would be able to focus on the vampires.

I thanked her for the information and parked my bike. That was the last news I wanted to hear. I would need to drop in to see him. To make sure he wasn’t close to breaking his cell open. He could do that. Easily. Unless they had him shackled with demanzite, which was a mage-rights violation. Perhaps, we could get him off. But, it wasn’t as if the city was friendly towards us at the moment.

For now, I had more pressing matters. Perhaps, the mole Jane had tied up was the same snitch who had turned in Kyong. Well, time to find out.

Jane was standing in the entrance hall, awaiting my arrival. She was positively buzzing with excitement. Her beam seemed genuine. Like she was a child playing her favourite game.

“Kat!” she called. “Our guest of honour is waiting for us.”

I rolled my eyes at that. Jane was having too much fun with this. I knew she derived pleasure from accomplishing things, a trait she did not share with many politicians, but this was a different scenario entirely. She had a person tied up in the back! It wasn’t like she’d opened a contract with a new client.

Well, Jane had always been fascinated with hunters. Perhaps, she felt like she was part of the hunt now.

Jane led me past the stairwell to the offices and down a maintenance corridor. Truth be told, I had never actually been here before. I always presumed it was just a storage closet. But, it actually led to another door, which further led into a downward staircase.

“I didn’t know we had a basement!” I exclaimed.

Jane raised her eyebrow at that. And then opened her mouth as she realised something.

“Conrad suggested we use the basement. I thought you knew about it.”

“I did not. And I doubt anyone except Conrad knew.”

That slimy, illusionist-hiring scumbag! Hiding a basement from us this entire time.

The staircase ended in a small janitor’s room. Back in the day, a custodian probably slept here. It was complete with a bed, closet for cleaning supplies, and a pile of Conrad’s belongings.

And, in the centre of the room was a young man with dark brown hair, eyes as wide as a deer facing slaughter, and the dark uniform of a Crusader, tied to a chair and gagged with a ball of socks.

Conrad stood behind the prisoner, arms crossed and a look of triumph on his face.

I looked at my one-time boss and now employee.

“When were you going to tell me you were squatting, Mr Khoi?” I asked, filling my voice with ice. It was directed at Conrad, but as I glanced at the prisoner, he squirmed.

“It wouldn’t be squatting if I got permission,” Conrad waved the accusation aside. “Besides, I knew you’d be fine with it. I just didn’t want Cindy to know. And you tell her EVERYTHING.”

“Gentleman and lady, let us continue this discussion on tenancy another time. We have a guest,” Jane interjected, cracking her knuckles and stepping towards the poor mole.

I recognised the Crusader but couldn’t remember his name. A quiet guy. Been in the Crusaders for a while but always took different shifts from me. Stayed at the back. Reclusive. I’d thought that normal of hunters. But it seems he had ulterior motives.

“Name?” I asked, inclining my head towards Jane.

“Albert Pretorius. Been with us since after Darius,” she replied. “Hunter record is a bit mediocre. Never acted solo. Always in a squad. Minimum performance to not be called in for disciplinary measures…”

“We have disciplinary measures?” I asked, surprised. There was a lot about the workings of the Crusaders I didn’t know. I just stabbed things.

Conrad grunted, nodding. It seemed he had been doing far more than just selling merchandise.

Looking at our pair of non-combat employees, I realised that their designations were ploys. There was a ruthlessness in both of them. While I could only fight monsters, they had to make the hard decisions – even if it meant hurting fellow hunters. It was a necessary job. One I don’t think I could do. It also made me a little terrified of both of them. Especially when they were together.

“Our friend Albert,” Jane continued. “Also ensured he never performed so well that he would be noticed. A suspicious trait in a hunter, I would think.”

“You think we’re all glory hungry knights of yore, Jane,” I replied. “How did you catch him?”

I really, really hoped that they had evidence.

“Conrad actually found him,” Jane said, glancing at her colleague and friend with unmistakable pride.

“Albert,” Conrad replied. “Was content initially to just report the contents of meetings to his employer. I’ve been watching him for a while, alongside other suspects. He was quiet. Too quiet. Jane may stereotype us hunters, but stereotypes exist for a reason. This guy didn’t fit the archetypal hunter. After our last meeting, I tailed him. Followed him to a place up the mountain. And I must add that I’m too old to be hiking up mountains! I need a raise. But yeah, I followed him to an old pump station in the woods on the mountain. He left something in the piping and then left. Good thing too, as my cloaking had run out. I searched the pipe, probably got bitten by a rat, and found a thumb-drive.”

Conrad pulled said thumb-drive from his pocket. There was a plaster on his thumb. Albert’s eyes went whiter. He was shaking. Conrad grinned, evilly.

“This yours, Bertie?” he goaded. “Well, I hope you don’t mind if we listen to it…”

Conrad inserted it into a laptop as Albert began rocking on the chair, protesting.

On the drive was a sound file. Conrad played it.

I heard my voice, some of Cindy’s, and muttering from Crusaders. The ambience was that of the Mosh-Pit during meetings. And the contents, from the last meeting we had before the Battle.

I shook my head. “Why not just email the file, Albert? Trying to play spy in this day and age? Ridiculous!”

I turned to Conrad. “Have you set up a watch for the dead drop?”

He nodded. “I did, for a few days. I have known about Albert for a while. But I wanted to flush out his handler before I confronted him. Unfortunately, no one came to pick up the drop. But, with all that’s going on, I felt we needed to get this out of the way.”

“Good work, guys. I might even forget about this place in light of it, Conrad.”

I looked at Albert, who froze under my gaze.

“I think it’s time we talk to him and see what he has to say. It’s too bad we don’t have his handler. It means we’re gonna have to go even further to get the truth out of him.”

I glared at him, staring him in the eyes. “Unless you want to come clean, that is.”

I pulled on a bit of the ball of socks, pulling it out of his mouth. Spittle and a bit of vomit followed.

“I’M BEING HELD AGAINST MY WILL!” he suddenly shouted, rocking on the chair. “I’M A PRISONER. HELP ME!”

I slapped him across the face, silencing him. “You think you were being gagged so no one could hear you? Hah! It was just so Conrad could moisten his socks. No one can hear you down here. And if you don’t play ball, no one will hear you again. Capiche?”

With Conrad and Jane both looming over me with their arms crossed, I was beginning to feel very much like we were in the Mafia.

Tears started streaming down Albert’s cheeks. He nodded, pained. I felt a twinge of guilt. Treth was hurting. This wasn’t what he wanted. It wasn’t what he signed up for.

Perhaps, of the two of us, I needed to be the ruthless one. For the Crusaders.

“Let’s start with a simple question: who do you work for?”

“I don’t know! I mean…the Crusaders. You, Commander!”

“Lies won’t get you far,” Jane interjected. “Tell the truth or we’re breaking fingers!”

Even I was shocked by that. Fortunately, Conrad ushered her back, and leant in to speak to Albert more closely. Seems they were playing good cop, bad cop.

“Forget fingers, Bertie. You don’t tell us who you work for, and you’ll soon become acquainted with a wonderful mer who lives at the bottom of False Bay!”

Ah, bad cop AND bad cop. A diverse pair.

I shoved them both back and pulled a chair in front of Albert so I could face him at eye-level.

“I’m gonna say what I think, Albert. And you’re going to tell me if I’m right.”

“I really don’t know…”

“And I don’t believe you. You work for the Council. A guy named Phillip Brown, possibly. Foreign Affairs agent. A real piece of work.”

Yeah, I still didn’t believe Phillip was on our side, despite his statement to the contrary.

“You mean that guy who was in the Mosh-Pit the other night? I hadn’t seen him before. Honest! I’ve never worked with any Council ticks.”

Well, he was speaking the right lingo to me.

“You were leaving recordings of our meetings for someone. If you had just emailed them or stored them, we probably wouldn’t have found out. Could have said you just wanted them to remind yourself of company policy. Nothing against that. But leaving the recordings in the woods! Data leaked, Albert. A lot of data! Data that got us in trouble with the Council and got Crusaders killed. Your colleagues!”

“I…I didn’t know.”

“Likely story,” Conrad growled, stepping forward. Jane held him back, mockingly wrestling with him as if it was to protect Albert from his wrath.

“Why were you leaving the recordings, Albert? Tell me or I’m letting these two idiots play out their mobster fantasies on you. And, as far as I know, this room doesn’t exist. No one will find you.”

“I…I…” he looked down, defeated. “I don’t know the guy. I used to be a freelancer. Just for some extra cash, you know? This guy approached me after a job once and told me he wanted recordings from Crusader meetings. I didn’t ask why. I just applied for the job, got it, and have been recording meetings ever since.”

“Why the dead drop? Why not just email them to him?”

“I asked the same question. But he said that he had his reasons.”

Albert bared his teeth, angrily. “I think the fucker wanted me to get caught.”

“Why?” I asked, incredulous.

Albert looked like he wanted to shrug, but the mishmash of rope, cable ties and a bicycle lock made that hard.

“I didn’t mean any harm. Honest! I love the Crusaders. I just needed the money. And, like, it’s not like the meetings were secret or nothin’?”

“They are,” I replied, coldly.

“I didn’t know that!”

“Ignorantia legis neminem excusat,” Jane interjected, glaring. “Ignorance of the law is no excuse. You should have used some rifts-damn common sense. We are a family, and you let outsiders in on our affairs.”

“I…I’m sorry!”

“The question,” I added. “Is still who hired you. What did this man look like? Are you sure it wasn’t Phillip Brown? Someone from the Council?”

He shook his head.

“Was a young guy. Sharp features. Had those mage eyes. You know the type? That focus. He always looked like he was looking behind me when we spoke. Black hair. Hmmm, a business suit? I thought he was some MagiCorps guy looking to see what we were up to. But I didn’t really want to find out more. He…he scared me.”

I froze. Albert was still talking. Conrad and Jane had proceeded to tag team with some more questions.

“You’re thinking it too, Kat?” Treth whispered, even though no one else could hear him. I heard trepidation in his voice.

It started to make sense. Why use dead drops that could easily be sabotaged? Unless you wanted your mole to get caught? And, if the Council had hired him, they wouldn’t have confronted me with what they’d discovered. Even they weren’t that stupid.

You never showed your cards. Unless you wanted to make a statement. To show that you had a winning hand, regardless of what your opponents could do.

He wanted us to know that he was watching us. That we could be infiltrated. That he could sow chaos. And there was nothing we could do about it.

He had said our battle was yet to begin, but it seemed that he didn’t consider this the battle. Which terrified me for what he had in store for us…

Before I could conclude my thoughts, the room shuddered. Shifting. Dust fell from the ceiling, raining down upon us.

“Please tell me this basement is structurally sound!” Jane pleaded.

Conrad was suspiciously silent.

A boom, and another shudder. Albert looked like he wanted to scream again, but his lips wouldn’t play ball.

“An earthquake?” I suggested.

“Unless the Titan is waking up, I doubt it,” Conrad replied. “Hope City doesn’t get earthquakes.”

Another quake. I stood up, letting Ithalen fall into my hand. Treth also felt something. Something off. My blood started boiling. My breathing calmed. I sensed battle. My coat flared, bathing the dimly lit room in fiery orange.

I climbed the staircase to be greeted by the muffled sound of screaming and gunfire. I ran towards the door, opening it to the sight of Crusaders sprinting for cover. Dust and ash filled the hallway. Alarms blared. And there was only one word being shouted above the chorus of violence.

“Ghouls!”

Chapter 12.    Bus

Albert yelled for help again. He went silent after a harsh, sharp thud. I didn’t wait for Conrad and Jane to follow.

We were being attacked!

“Scout ahead, Treth!” I yelled, surging forward. My coat flared in excitement.

“Commander!” Voices called, seeing me through the ash. I was a beacon.

Thud, thud, thud. Bullets collided into the wall behind me, just as I fell to my knees, sliding on now wet tiles.

“Kat!” Treth exclaimed, appearing by my side.

“What is it?!” I hissed, through gritted teeth. My coat was much less eager to glow and was now more reminiscent of cinders.

“I can hardly see a blasted thing,” Treth continued. “But they’ve blocked the doors!”

“Any vampires?”

“Not that I can see…”

Bullets whizzed through his ethereal body, not even displacing it.

I ducked low, leopard-crawling to cover. I found some behind two Crusaders, lying on top of each other as if in embrace when they were gunned down. I was lying in their blood.

“No vampires,” Treth continued. “But there’re a lot of ghouls. And they’re organised! All armed. Better than we are.”

I gritted my teeth. We weren’t ready for this! We were still recovering from the miserable nights. The day was meant to bring us some respite!

“The ash is blocking the windows. But how did they get in without being burnt?” I asked.

Screams and shouting broke off my train of thought. Without waiting for Treth to reply, I shot upwards, Ithalen at the ready. I swung my shining blade towards the ash and smoke. The smoke smelled like fireworks. Not the acrid stench of fire. Smoke grenades!

They really were organised.

I cleared a wall of smoke and came face to face with three ghouls. They had dark grey skin, taut on their wiry frames. Their red eyes glowed, angrily, as they bared their vampiric fangs. They levelled their guns at me. Military-grade rifles. They fired.

I ducked low, as Treth shot forward, shoving a ghoul off balance.

Many people confused ghouls and zombies.

Low to the ground, I swept a ghoul onto the floor, skewering it in the head with Ithalen before rolling to the side. The automatic fire turned the skewered ghoul into mincemeat.

But ghouls and zombies couldn’t be farther apart.

Treth teleported in front of me, deflecting a volley of rounds with his shield, disappearing as I lunged forward into the shocked ghoul. It gurgled on my blade.

Zombies were mindless, slavering beasts. They did not feel pain. They couldn’t plan. They could only feast and ravage.

The surviving ghoul backed up, ejecting its mag as it tried to reload. With a flourish, I separated its hand from its wrist. I drew my dagger with my free hand and stuck it in its belly. Again, and again.

Ghouls were smart. They could plan. They could use tools.

But they could also feel pain.

I disembowelled the beast and let it fall. It may recover if its sire gave it some blood, but we’d have purged its corpse before that could happen. If we didn’t have the chance, then we’d have worse things to worry about by then.

Before I could take a breather, a hail of bullets emerged from the smog. I felt a hot pain sear my leg as I dropped to the ground. More gunfire erupted from behind me, including the bang and clicks of Conrad’s pump-action. And I was caught in the middle!

“How bad is it?” I asked, wincing as I felt wetness spreading on my legs.

Treth manifested next to me, relief palpable on his face.

“Just a graze!”

Still hurt!

I imagined Cindy’s voice, lecturing me.

“You’re a healer as well as a fighter, Kat!”

I focused on the wound and then muttered some words fed to me by Gorgo through the Vessel. The pain stopped. Handy, that. But it didn’t really save me from my predicament. The hail of bullets dancing above my head.

A grey figure wearing a flak jacket appeared through the haze just in front of me. A storm of pellets from a shotgun was joined by other small arms fire. The bullets clinked against the chest-plate of the ghoul, and it didn’t seem fazed by the projectiles pelting into its unarmoured bits. Even as a chunk of its arm went flying. Ghouls could feel pain, yeah, but they were often too hungry to care.

The armoured ghoul hefted a massive machine-gun. The type you’d see on top of an armoured car. My eyes widened.

“Get down!” I boomed through the hall. Gunfire from our lines ceased as the ghoul let out a roar, followed by the deafening rattle of its machine-gun strafing across the hall.

Not even Brett and Guy had a gun this massive!

I dropped Ithalen, letting Treth place it back into the void.

“What are you planning?” he asked, his ghostly forehead creased with enough worry you’d think he was an old man.

I answered him with action. As the ghoul stepped forward, still firing his weapon, I lunged forward, grabbing a handhold on the machine-gun with one hand and letting my dagger find the ghoul’s neck with the other. My dagger clinked against metal as it shifted its weight. Well, fuck…

Still firing, the ghoul tried to back away, bringing me into his firing arc. I stayed close, staring into its red, angry eyes and maw of fangs. It looked irritable.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” I yelled over the noise, as I ducked low, releasing the machine-gun and ducking through his legs. “Am I interrupting your fun?”

He turned around, facing his own lines, as I stuck my dagger into his leg, dragging it down and shredding his thigh. He collapsed with a howl, opening fire and letting the recoil send the rounds into the ceiling. I hoped it wasn’t hitting my office! I’d just gotten new carpets.

“That won’t do at all! Aim properly.”

I stabbed my dagger into his meaty trigger hand and pulled down. Treth dropped Ithalen into my free hand, and, in a single movement, I propelled it through the ghoul’s neck. It gurgled as I pulled its arm and body over my head, letting it fire above me towards its allies. Smoke rose from the barrel, until the chain of rounds was depleted, and the hall went silent for just a second, as ghouls filled with bullet holes charged through the smoke.

I dropped Ithalen as it remained stuck in the now dead ghoul’s neck, letting it disappear into the void, then catching it again as Treth dropped it into my hand. I spun, beheading a ghoul with a single blow, but having the blade caught by a ghoul holding its rifle like a club. It grinned, satisfied. I grinned back, letting Treth take Ithalen again, before I caught it on the other side of the gun, letting it become physical as it lopped off this ghoul’s head.

Conrad and Jane, accompanied by some other Crusaders, appeared through the smog. Conrad shotgun blasted a charging ghoul as Jane dodged to one side, letting the other Crusaders hack at the creature with axes and swords.

No more ghouls charged from the smoke. But the sounds of battle had not abated.

“We can’t see farther than we can spit,” Conrad growled, ejecting a used shell and reloading some more.

“They were probably waiting for Kyong to get arrested,” Jane replied. “He would have made short work of them.”

It was calculated. All of this. Kyong could have cleared the smoke and ash, and even opened holes in the roof large enough for the sun to peek through. But, with all the protests, he was bound to snap and get himself in trouble.

We were playing into their hands…

I gritted my teeth. But little did they know how powerful my cards were!

“Bethany, Andre, Jane…secure the reception. If the LMG hasn’t been deployed from under the desk, deploy it and hold the entrance.”

They saluted and trotted off into the smoke. No gunfire erupted from that direction, yet. Good.

“What about us, Commander?” Conrad asked, no hint of sarcasm in his voice. Just anger. He felt what I was feeling.

This was our family. Our home. And they were attacking it. We’d make them all bleed.

“We’re going into the Mosh-Pit.”

Conrad didn’t argue, as we navigated the smoky halls towards the sounds of fighting. Bodies lay at our feet, eviscerated. Some had gaping wounds in their necks where ghouls had begun to feed. Some dead ghouls lay nearby. My men had given as good as they got. If I was so inclined, I’d know they deserved Valhalla. But that wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. All I could hope for was that those responsible paid the ultimate price.

Gunfire and the grunting and shouting of a melee erupted as soon as we reached the doorway to the Mosh-Pit. I saw flashes of fire and heard the clanging of blades and slicing of flesh through the murkiness.

A dark figure fell through the haze, landing at my feet. A Crusader! I fell to my knees, catching the Crusader and looking them in their eyes.

“Cl..a..man..der,” he gurgled, growing pale as he clutched his neck. Blood poured liberally from the wound.

I grew tense, as I tried to summon up the words to save him. I started casting them, letting golden light flow through my fingertips. But it wasn’t enough. He lay still. His body limp.

I let him fall to the ground. Treth dropped Ithalen into my hand again, I held my dagger in the other. I charged into the fray.

Dark bodies fought all around me. I spun, coming face to face with a pale-faced Crusader, desperation, and fear on his face. I stabbed towards him, hitting a ghoul that was going for his neck. Relief flooded through his face, just as a bullet caved in his skull.

I turned towards the shooter. A tall ghoul with  red-dot sights. I flung my dagger through the air, planting it square between the ghoul’s eyes. It crumpled.

Chaos. It was our enemy. Their friend.

“Form a wall!” I tried to shout. We had to have order. We had to get organised. But my pleas fell on deaf ears.

Through the smoke, I saw Henri collapse against a desk as a ghoul fell on top of him. The ghoul fell backwards, as Henri fired point-blank with his rifle, just as more ghouls took its place.

I tried to charge through the melee to help him, but more bodies fell in front of me. Blade against fang. Flesh and blood, spraying everywhere.

Images flashed before my mind. The relentlessness of the dead. Of the Battle of Ithalen. A battle I had survived but lost. For no one else had lived to remember it.

I couldn’t let that happen again. I couldn’t!

A renewed vigour filled me, mixing with the panic rising within my heart. I became an animal with blades, launching myself over the bodies, slitting throats and colliding with my foes, shredding them and moving onto the next target.

I found myself near the wall of the Mosh-Pit. Well, where the wall should have been. Treth and I beheaded a bunch of ghouls as they poured out of what looked like an armoured bus, which had barrelled through the wall. I should have suspected this tactic. Necromancers did it with abhorrent all the time.

One would have hoped that the police would have flagged down such a vehicle. But it seemed they were blissfully unaware of our plight.

The room was growing darker. Soon, the ghouls wouldn’t even need the smoke to protect them from the sun. Then, there’d be nothing to stop their tide. Nothing but me…

My coat ignited into an inferno, streaking out from me and setting fire to the ghoul corpses. A wall of fire erupted, pushing away the smoke. Ghouls and humans alike backed away from the onslaught.

I stared at the ghoul ranks. They backed away, their red eyes wavering. They were beasts. Minions of parasites. Less than leeches!

And they came into my home.

“You attack us?!” I yelled, my voice booming with the intensity of a hundred voices, Treth, Gorgo, Arden and many others among them.

The Crusaders were hushed. All except for some of the resident cats, who hissed at the ghouls. Their mouths and paws were covered in red. Seemed they were also Crusaders.

“I am the Last Light. You are the slaves of beasts. Less than animals! And you think you can fight me in my home?”

The ghouls winced. I took another step forward. They backed away in unison. The Crusaders huddled together, forming a line behind me. The wall of fire separated us.

I stepped through the wall, the fire parting as I did so. I let the flames touch my fingertips. They didn’t burn me. In fact, they felt familiar. They had saved me so many times before.

“Hello, Hammond…” I whispered and felt my friend grin from within the Vessel.

“Stay back!” I called to my comrades. “I’ll handle these invaders.”

Before the ghouls could realise what was happening, I fell upon their ranks, rushing between them like a spirit of death. Perhaps, because I was. I was more spirit than woman. An avatar of the void.

Ithalen popped in and out of existence, ensuring there was no delay between blows. Nothing to hamper my assault. Ghoul heads flew, and the ghouls, in their panic, fell on each other, attacking comrades and devouring their flesh. Beasts. Less than beasts. At least zombies never attacked their own.

Ghouls…

I could have laughed. Pathetic.

A hand caught my ankle, and I fell. Ithalen shot out of my hands, dispersing into the In Between. I reached for another weapon. Any weapon. But my arms were caught. Drooling, bloodied ghouls crowded over me, holding me down. My coat flared angrily, but they didn’t care. Bullets flew from my comrades, but there were too many ghouls…

I felt teeth pierce my flesh. My vision faded. Treth screamed in my ears, trying to pull the beasts off me. I felt faint. Dizzy. And oh, so…tired.

And then the wall exploded.

Shrapnel flew overhead, shredding the ghouls above me. I saw light. The reddening, golden light of the twilight. It felt sweet.

Shouts and gunfire erupted from both sides. The ghouls were cut down. And, through all the noise, I heard the voice of my beloved, calling my name.

“Bre…tt…” I wheezed.

And I saw him, standing over me, his face disbelieving and horrified. His pallor turned to red. To a red-hot rage. A ghoul leapt upon him and he caught its neck with his hand, crushing its windpipe as he pummelled it into the ground, again and again. Blood sprayed into a fine mist.

Cindy rushed towards me, calling my name. It sounded distant. She looked into my eyes, and mouthed:

“It’s going to be okay.”

I felt the warmth of her pure magic close my wounds, as I heard Brett scream in rage, beating a ghoul that was long since dead, even as Krieg and Guy tried to drag him away from the blood mulch that remained.

Chapter 13.    Leadership

My muscles ached and I was still very tired. I had lost a lot of blood. But, I was alive. I had to remember that I couldn’t die. Was easy to forget, sometimes. Treth didn’t find that joke very fun.

I lay in my office, facing the window, watching as the sun slowly set. What terrors would the vampires wreak on us tonight? I doubted they would give us a reprieve. Not so much as even a breather. Their day attack had failed to kill me, but it had killed so many others.

Albert had disappeared. Conrad and Jane swore they had been watching the only exit. I didn’t blame them. The Mentor had ways of getting in and out unnoticed. I was just surprised he hadn’t left the corpse. Because, once he was done with Albert, there was no need for him anymore. And it would have left a statement.

Another terror.

I wasn’t terrified. I was too tired to be terrified. All I felt was intense sadness. I could still hear Brett’s primal cries in my head. Guy and Krieg had finally used a tranquiliser on him. Cindy said that something had gone wrong in his head. Seeing me like that - it had triggered something.

He wasn’t okay. And I didn’t know if there was anything, I could do for him.

“You’re worried about him,” Treth said, sitting at my desk, shining Ithalen.

“Of course, I am! Stupid question.”

“Wasn’t a question. Was a statement. I know you’re worried about him. And rightly so, but you were the one bleeding out after you fell into the horde like you were some sort of grim reaper.”

He looked up from the blade and looked me in the eyes, his expression grave.

“Do you think you’re a god, Kat? That you can shrug off whatever life throws at you? That you can take the world on your shoulders? The Vessel is not infinite power. It’s a responsibility. You can’t just throw your life away…”

“What else am I supposed to do then?!” I yelled back. “Watch everyone die? I have the capability. I have the power. I can end this! I have to end this.”

“But what if you die, Kat?” he asked, softly, almost a whimper. “What about Brett then? What about me? We need you. And you can’t help us if you’re dead…”

A knock on the door cut off my rebuke. I was thankful for that, as I didn’t know what I was actually going to say.

“Come in!” I called. The door opened, revealing Guy Giles-Mgebe. His face was impassive, even as I could see slick spots on his black tactical armour. The blood hadn’t even had time to dry yet!

“How’s Brett?” I asked.

Guy paused, glancing at my chair, which was currently spinning as Treth spun it side to side. Guy didn’t comment on that. At least he knew I wasn’t mad.

“You should be focusing on your own recovery, Kat.”

I let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t need you and Treth badgering me. I can handle myself! How is my boyfriend?!”

Guy’s expression didn’t change at my outburst, which gave me pause. I frowned, then averted my gaze.

“Sorry…I’m just…”

“Overwhelmed?” he continued. I nodded.

He took a seat opposite Treth, facing me in my bed.

“Brett is in the med-bay. Cindy checked him over. He’s fine. Just sleepy after the tranquiliser.”

My frown deepened. It was going to etch itself into my face at this rate.

“Has…has he ever acted like this before?”

Guy rubbed his chin, leaning forward. If I hadn’t seen the way he acted around Cindy, I would have thought him a robot. But, Guy was anything but. He was just calm. Professional. He had fought many battles, and he had learnt to cope with them.

He was a rock. Unmoving against the tide. Just what the Crusaders needed.

“I’ve known Brett for a long time,” Guy finally replied. “He is my brother. But there are still things I don’t know about him. Things he’s gone through. We all have different ways of tackling trauma. Me and you…we let it ice over. We channel our anger into determination. But Brett - he breathes in the rage. I don’t know if it’s because of the Corps. Krieg seems calmer…”

Guy frowned, subtly, at that. He looked up at me, staring into my eyes.

“I love my brother, Kat. And he loves you. What I know about him is that he has lost a great deal. So much. And that has hurt him, deeply.”

I felt a sting in my heart. The conversation we had had before the battle. What I’d said. What I had argued with Treth about.

It wasn’t just my life to give. I had given it freely to others. Others who cared about me. And that I didn’t want to hurt. Ever.

“I…” I started…

“I’m sorry,” Guy interjected, clenching his fists. His voice was charged. More emotion than I normally saw in him.

“I am sorry,” he repeated. “For bringing the vampires here. For bringing back the trauma in my brother. For letting…all this happen.”

Guy went silent. Treth watched him, his face awash with differing emotions. He saw what I saw.

Guy and I were similar. Taking the world on our shoulders. Blaming evil on ourselves. And, as he said, we channelled our rage into determination. And we became ice.

“Evil will always find an excuse.,” I said to him, quoting Ismail. “You were doing the right thing. I do not know everything there is to know about you, Guy, but I know enough. I know you are the husband of one of my closest friend’s. I know you are loyal and brave. I know you persevere. And that you do the right thing.”

I trusted Brett with my life. I trusted him with my love. But, with all this rage inside him, I didn’t trust him to lead. But Guy…

“I know that if anything was to happen to me, you would need to lead the Crusaders.”

Treth stood up, knocking back the chair. Guy glanced towards the chair moving of its own accord and then looking at me, showing visible shock.

“What?”

I waved away the forthcoming comments and questions.

“Nothing is going to happen to me. But…” I looked down towards my scarred and bandaged arms. “If anything does, I want you to take charge. Cindy will do most of the work. She already does. And Jane and Conrad will keep things running, as always. But the Crusaders need more than administrators. They need a rudder. A leader. Someone to be calm during the storm. I think you’re the only one who can do that.”

Guy opened his mouth to argue, I shushed him.

“No arguments. It’s an order. And besides…” I smiled, weakly. “Nothing is going to happen to me.”

I looked out the window, towards the darkening sky.

“But I can’t say the same for the city…”

I looked at my friend. “What can we do, Guy, against such sheer terror?”

He contemplated the words. And then shook his head.

“I don’t know.”

I nodded. “I know. The problem is…we’re human. And they’re vampires. We’re losing because we can’t think like them. We can’t anticipate their next moves, because we aren’t them.”

In silence, we pondered those words, until the flashing of blue and red lights lit up my window. I heard footsteps rushing towards door. Followed by a dishevelled Jane bursting through, face pale.

“Kat! It’s the police.”

“Finally! Are they here to apologise for letting a marauding army of ghouls get this far into Obs?”

“No…not exactly.”

“Then what is it?”

“They came with a warrant…for your arrest.”

Chapter 14.    Mortality

“Are you going to go with them, Kat?” Guy asked, giving no indication of his opinion. Almost expressionless. Almost. He twitched. Slightly. He was still dwelling on what I had said.

“Do I have a choice?” I sighed, pulling myself off the bed. Thank Athena for Cindy’s healing! Treth manifested by me, holding me up. I smiled, faintly, thanking him. He looked close to arguing. He didn’t want me to go.

“There’re a lot of cops,” Jane explained. “And the Crusaders are getting antsy. They’ll kill and die for you…”

“And they mustn’t. I’ll hand myself in.”

I looked between Jane and Guy.

“Jane, act as witness, and make sure the others know. Guy is in charge while I’m gone.”

Jane didn’t act surprised. She nodded, as if it was expected.

Guy opened his mouth, about to argue, but Jane shut the door, silencing him. It was settled.

“We can’t be making new enemies,” I said to Jane, explaining myself as I limped down the hall. Through the open balcony doors, I saw the flashing of the blue and red lights, silhouetting gunmen crouching on the veranda, their guns aimed at the police below.

“I know, Kat. I know.” But her frown said otherwise. I stopped and looked at her.

She was so different from that eager, conniving politician that I had worked with and against so long ago. Now, I wouldn’t hesitate to call her a friend.

“I’ll be okay, Jane. You know I will.”

She bit her lip and nodded.

“And tell the others. I won’t be in long. I’ve been arrested before. And they won’t be able to keep me locked up or hand me over to the vamps. The Spirit of the Law won’t allow it.”

“I’ll be stationing guards around wherever they lock you up, Commander.”

“Don’t piss them off. And don’t worry about me.”

I let Ithalen flash into my hand and then out.

“They can’t disarm me. Ever.”

There was awe in Jane’s eyes. She’d seen it a dozen times. But it never got old. I used to hate that look in people’s eyes. But, I didn’t anymore. Perhaps, because I didn’t think their faith was so misplaced anymore.

Hopefully, they could now put their faith in Guy.

The door to the HQ was open, letting the sirens blare inside. The buses that had been rammed into the building had been cleared. There were a lot of people outside. The white flashing of cameras blended with the blue and red of the police lights.

I had a proper audience.

I stopped on the edge of the HQ, breathed in the night air and smell of petrol, and took a step forward.

“Kat!” I heard a yell behind me.

I turned, as Brett held himself against the doorway of the med-bay. Tears streamed down his face.

“Don’t go, Kat…”

The waver in his voice, the complete, utter sadness…it was almost too much. It almost broke me.

I gave him a weak, reassuring smile.

“I won’t be long. Besides, I haven’t done anything wrong. The Spirit of the Law will protect me.”

Guy caught up to us, putting his hand on Brett’s shoulder. I wanted to go to him. To embrace my beloved. To let him know what he meant to me.

But I didn’t know if I could ever let go if I did that.

I turned away from him, and entered the open street, to be greeted by the roars of a crowd of journalists, protesters, police, and my loyal Crusaders, standing guard by my side.

I had to go. I couldn’t watch my men be slaughtered by the people they were meant to protect.

“Last…Kat Drummond,” a policeman on a loudspeaker yelled, hesitantly. “You are under arrest for crimes against the Council of Hope City, anti-trust violations, murder, conspiracy and tax evasion.”

Only some of those were true!

“Tell your men to stand down or face the consequences.”

The police stood in rows, like old Napoleonic war era riflemen. They held their guns ready, facing off against the Crusaders who held theirs.

We could probably kill them all. Even without Kyong and Hammond. We could probably kill every single one of them. We could then reinforce the HQ. And then be starved off in a siege. All the while vampires destroyed the city. Perhaps, we could flee into the slums? Live like the necromancer gangs. We could do some good there.

But, that was no way to live. And these men and women before us were scared. They had families. They had mothers and fathers, and brothers and sisters. They were people. Just like us.

And I wouldn’t be the reason they died.

“Stand down!” I commanded. Some Crusaders hesitated, but then dropped their weapons.

“Kat!” I heard Brett yell again. I heard scuffling. Guy and Krieg were holding him back.

I felt tears well up. I fought them down. I had to be strong. I had to be the hero this city needed, even if it didn’t deserve me.

I descended the stairs, down into the street. The flashes of the cameras were like gunshots. The police lowered their guns.

The protesters continued to scream.

“Murderer! Thief! Capitalist Pig!”

I wondered how reflective this mob was of my city. Was this truly what they thought of me? Or were these just a loud, angry minority?

Did my city actually want me?

And did that matter?

I held my arms out and brought them to my head. Even my coat was dulled. I hoped they didn’t take it away from me.

The crowd pressed in as I approached, flanking me on either side. At the end of the red carpet, reporters and protesters on either side, was the police captain, cuffs in hand.

I heard sobbing behind me, mingling with the shouts. The police shoved the protesters and reporters back. They yelled questions at me. I zoned them out.

I wanted to be alone with my thoughts.

No battle for me tonight. At least, I could rest…

Shouts broke me from my reverie. I spun, just as pain shot up through my chest. It spread, and then dulled.

My vision went blurry. What was that? A man? What was he shouting?

I held my chest and looked at my hands. I didn’t remember putting on red gloves.

Treth was yelling something. And…Brett. He was shouting.

No…don’t fight. Don’t fight for me. I don’t want you to die.

Not for me. Not for anything…

I’m tired.

Too tired.

I just want to sleep…

***GUY***

No one can cage a beast forever. Brett broke free from my grasp as soon as he saw the man break past the police line and charge Kat. I didn’t stop him. I drew my gun. We all did. But it was too late…

Brett let out a roar that was closer to beast than man. The attacker’s face had long since turned into a red paste.

My wife stood over Kat, pale. Tears and sweat streamed down her face. Puke and spittle stained her lips. She’d exploded her spark already. This quickly.

Oh, gods…Kat…

Crusaders pressed into the mob, beating back protesters. The police were lost.

Kat…why did you have to do this…?

I didn’t want to lead these people. I didn’t think I could.

But she had left me with the responsibility. I had to lead. No matter what.

“Form a perimeter around the Commander!” I boomed. The chaotic Crusaders, wrestling with protesters and police, broke away, forming a circle around Kat, Cindy and the enraged Brett.

The circle opened, allowing me to step inside.

“You failed to protect us,” I yelled. “You failed to protect the hero who has saved your lives countless times. For this, we will not comply.”

“You…stand down. There is a warrant to arrest Kat Drummond, and we also need to arrest that man for murder.”

“Fuck off, ticks!” a Crusader shouted. Others shouted in agreement.

The protesters fled as soon as the Crusaders moved into formation. In the chaotic melee, the scum thought they stood a chance. But now, they saw the power behind us. The organisation.

It was just the police and the Crusaders left, on this patch of asphalt, surrounding a bleeding warrior.

Trudie and her pack stood on the other side of the road, staring at the police with golden eyes. Some of the police glanced towards them. They didn’t know where to aim their guns.

More Crusaders stood on the balcony, guns aimed.

Kat wanted to deescalate this. But that was before she’d been stabbed. Before the police let this happen.

They may not have realised it yet, but Kat was more agreeable than I was. And I wasn’t letting them have her.

“How is she, Cins?” I whispered, placing my hand lightly on Cindy’s head. She held it and squeezed, before returning to her work.

“Not good. She needs a hospital. A purifier facility. Make sure we don’t lose the blade. I think it held a curse.”

“This is what’s going to happen,” I yelled to the police. “We’re going to put the Last Light into a van, and we’re taking her to a Heiligeslicht hospital. You will not block us; you will not intervene. You will not stop us from guarding her or caring for her. When she is awake and healthy, then she can decide if she will let you wrongfully arrest her.”

“Those are not my orders…”

“Fuck your orders!”

Faces turned to me. I don’t think they’d ever heard me swear before. Well, tonight was a night for surprises.

“Do you want a war, captain?” I continued, my voice far colder than it had been before. “Do you want to fight us? The hunters who kill immortals? We have fought gods and won. Do you think you can beat us? We are taking her to a hospital. And if you get in our way, you will die as an ingrate who got in the way of the hero who saved the lives of this city’s ungrateful inhabitants. A dozen times!”

Silence. No one moved. I stepped forward, peering over the heads of Kat’s - my men - and into the eyes of terrified police officers. I didn’t care if they were only doing their jobs. I was only doing mine.

“Will you comply?” I yelled.

I heard chattering from the police lines. Then, it opened up.

“We will escort you to the hospital…”

Victory…for now. But darkness had just about descended on the city once again. And that meant the vampires were going to play their hand once more.

Chapter 15.    Dusk

***GUY***

By some miracle, we managed to get the convoy and Kat to the hospital. Cindy never stopped incanting, draining herself dry of spark. Pranish joined us, helping as best he could. As soon as we handed Kat over to the healers, my wife and the wizard collapsed.

The police formed a perimeter around the hospital. Probably to make sure Kat didn’t escape. Fine! Meant one more layer for the vamps to kill before getting to us.

“Get that gun on the roof!” a Crusader sergeant ordered, saluting me as I passed. Some recruits carrying definitely illegal LMGs carried them up the stairwell. Purifiers with white tabards and robes paled at the display. I would let Cindy make amends with them. They were her associates, after all.

I was an occupier. A military leader. Uncomfortable healers and purifiers were a small price to pay for reinforcing this place.

Kat made me the leader, but it was still Kat’s Crusaders. The HQ meant nothing without her in it. Which made this hospital, surrounding her room and bed, the new HQ.

Definitely needed more silver plating on the window bars!

But, it would have to do. Even without the need for a hospital, we would have needed to find a temporary base this night. I hadn’t been there for the ghoul attack, but I saw its results. Three armoured buses plunged deep into the walls of the HQ. They opened up from the front, letting ghouls spill out into our home.

Kat had almost died defending her people. Again. I would have wanted to scold her for risking her life so freely. Not for me, but for Brett’s sake. But I let her ghost do the scolding. She seldom realised how loudly they argued. I couldn’t hear what Treff…Trett…Trev was saying but Cindy could, and often chuckled as we eavesdropped through the walls.

I wondered what Kat’s ghost was thinking now. And then I stopped. That thought brought me uncertainty and pain.

Hah. Unlike me to sympathise with a ghost. Well, he was a Crusader. Like me. Dead or not.

The golden light of the setting sun had been replaced by the artificial fluorescent lighting of a hospital. Clean. Clinical. I walked past some harried hospital administrators. A man and woman, both wearing the Heiligeslicht tabards of purifiers. Their power was wasted on clipboards and pens.

“Giles-Mgebe?” I asked. I’d been rushing around the hospital fortifying our position. I didn’t know where Cindy had been taken after her collapse. It was duty that drove me onwards. Knowing that she’d want me to make sure everything was ready. Ready for the darkness…

The purifiers turned administrators looked confused, for a second, but then made an oh with their mouths.

“Cindy is resting in the staff room. She’s fine! Just a bit of burn-out,” the one purifier answered. She said my wife’s name with the familiarity of an old friend. I had met a few of Cindy’s purifier colleagues, but not all of them. And she had colleagues outside of Hope City as well. It filled me with pride that the love of my life was held in such high regard by so many people.

“You are Guy?” the other asked.

I nodded.

“Congratulations!” they both said, smiling, sadly. They were happy for us. And sad for what followed. Perhaps, they should be. But Cindy and I had expected this. Prepared for it. Our life was that of the hunt. It was only fitting that our wedding became a battle.

“And the Last Light?” I asked, pointedly using Kat’s title. She might have disliked the pretentiousness of it, but it was important to people. It reminded them of what Kat meant to this city. What she meant to me.

“We have her in our best room. Third floor. First on the left. She’s with her…husband?”

Close enough. I nodded my thanks.

I turned to leave, when the male purifier grabbed my arm. I stopped and cocked my head, waiting.

“Are we going to be safe?” he asked.

“Almost the entire Crusaders are here,” I replied, calmly. “For what may be coming, there are no finer defenders.”

“But will it be enough?” the lady added, face impassive. Clinical. She wanted the facts. She wasn’t afraid to hear the truth.

“I don’t know.”

I couldn’t…wouldn’t lie.

I left the administrators to their work and climbed the stairs to Kat’s room, passing barricades and checkpoints erected by Crusaders. These were good men and women. Courageous, even in the face of death and sheer exhaustion. Any lesser, and they would have fled, abandoned the fight, or fell into a pit of despair they would never rise from again.

But they didn’t. They held the line.

If I knew Kat at all, that’s all she’d want from them.

The third-floor hallway was conspicuously quiet. Not that it was empty. Henri patrolled up and down the hall. He had bandages around his arms. Ghouls had bitten him. Kat had saved him. That was a common theme among all those here. It was the same with me.

I may never have needed Kat to slice a head off a beast for me, but she’d saved me. In her own way.

Other Crusaders set up positions and barracks in empty rooms. All of them were making an extra effort to be quiet. Out of respect? Or out of an ominous feeling that the end was approaching?

I did not know. I was a quiet man. But I wished for some noise now. Just to break this eeriness.

I knocked on Kat’s door. I heard Brett’s growling, deep grunt in response. I opened the door.

My brother sat by Kat’s side. Our commander and friend lay peacefully, her eyes closed, and chest pulsating calmly. Her flaming coat hummed from another chair placed on the other side of the bed from Brett. Flanking her. Her bandages were clean. No more bleeding. Thank Qamata! But why wasn’t she awake? She’d gone through worse scrapes! Well, technically. The blade had gone deep. Just a damn shiv, but it had done the damage it needed.

I voicelessly stood by Kat’s side, facing my brother. He held her hand, tightly, not taking his eyes off her.

He cared too much for her. It was dangerous to love that much. Dangerous to become so reliant on a single person. When Kat had disappeared into the rift, it had broken him. And that was before they had gotten together. Now…I had never seen him like this.

“The fucking bloodsuckers…” he hissed, under his breath, as he used his free hand to push one of Kat’s errant bangs out of her eyes. “They couldn’t do it themselves, so they sent a fucking thug.”

Not that we could even be sure, as Brett had killed the man. He would probably have to answer for that. Or maybe not. This city was changing. We were changing it. My heart was still beating from adrenaline. I’d threatened the police! So much for keeping my head down. I wasn’t even a registered citizen!

“Jane’s contacts in the police say that the man lost his family during the Battle a few weeks back. He’s been posting on forums about his hatred for Kat. He was a disgruntled civ. Not an assassin.”

Brett’s knuckles whitened, somehow without increasing their grip on Kat’s hand. He was gentle with her. Always. But with nothing else. Ironically, she could probably handle it better than most.

“I’m not going to regret what I did, Guy. And you heard Cins – there was a curse on the blade. Vamp fucking magic, probably. They put him up to it.”

He rubbed his eyes and head, as if hiding an emotion, before revealing a face filled with sheer, cold, rage.

“We should have expected it.”

“How could we?” I replied. “How do you predict chaos? A dragon could spawn from a rift right now and devour us all. That is the world we live in. We can’t expect ourselves to make contingency plans for every damn thing.”

“Rich of you to say that. I’m sure you were looking at those windows and measuring them for silver bars.”

I was. Would be ordering them when I left the room!

I sighed. “We prepare as best we can. But you can’t prepare against the unpreparable. We can’t prepare against minds that we cannot understand.”

“I understand them…” Brett growled. “I understand their hunger, their hate, their viciousness. I understand that they all need to die.”

“You understand what you feel about them…” And perhaps not even that. “But none of us truly understands the mind of a vampire.”

And that was the problem…

How do you predict the alien? Unless, you come to understand them truly…

I let the quiet settle, before I softly spoke again.

“Before the police arrived, Kat told me that if anything was to happen to her, I’d be in charge.”

“Nothing has happened to her! She’s going to get better! She has to…”

“She will. You’ve heard her before. Nothing can kill her. Not this, and not vampires. But, while she rests, she put me in charge. I don’t know if that was a good idea, but it is a duty I will fulfil. For her.”

Brett snorted. “We all know Jane and Conrad are actually in charge.”

I smiled, faintly. There was still a bit of Brett in there. Even in this state.

I took a seat, letting Kat’s coat warm my back. Its flames lapped up against me, harmlessly. As if it was a dog licking a welcome visitor.

“I will do what needs to be done, Brett. For Kat, and for the Crusaders. But…”

I looked out, towards the dark sky with the tinge of red and blue from where the police lay in wait.

“I don’t know if we can win this. We’re only reacting. Playing cat and mouse, and we’re the mice. And when we aren’t fighting vamps, they’re turning the city against us.”

“I don’t care about this fucking city,” Brett growled, quietly. “They can hate me. I don’t care. I was raised to be hated. To be scorned. And to protect them anyway. And I was raised to prepare to lose. To know that I will die. That we all will. I know we’re losing. And we may all die. But…”

I saw droplets descend from his eyes, moistening the sheets on Kat’s bed.

“I don’t want her to leave me, Guy. Not again. Not ever.”

“I am married, my friend. I don’t want to lose. I don’t want to die. I have so much more to do. I want to have kids, I want to raise them, I want them see the green hills of my homeland. And I want you to be there with me. And Kat. I am not ready to die. One day, I want this all to end, and then I want peace.”

Brett contemplated the words, I like to think, before whispering his reply.

“There is a long way to go before we can have peace.” He said peace as if it was a joke. A fiction to be scorned. “We can only have it when every bloodsucker is dead. When every abomination is purged. Then…we can have peace.”

“Before the past returned, Brett, we faced our demons. We confronted the vampires of this city. We killed countless of them. And we learnt something…”

It pained me to admit it. I still smelled the ash and burning rubber. The scorched flesh of my mother, a tyre around her neck. Vampires did that. They took away my home, my family…everything.

But I had a new family now. A new home.

And I would do anything to protect them.

“We can’t beat them, Brett,” I finally said, and it stung me to tears. “We can’t beat them because we can’t understand them. And we never will. But they can. A vampire can understand its own…”

Brett finally looked up at me, his expression dark.

“Think carefully…my friend…before you go down this path…”

“We need allies!” I argued, as if trying to convince myself as well as my friend.

“Even if it means making a deal with the beasts who took everything from us?”

“You admitted yourself that Victoria Kruger was the lesser evil! She’s not Izingane Zegazi. Sanguineas is neutral. They’re from Hope City. And they may see reason!”

“Lesser, greater…it doesn’t fucking matter. She’s a monster. The only reason I haven’t killed her is because I can’t.”

He looked away from me, back into the still face of the Last Light.

I didn’t speak. I knew it would be pointless. How could I convince Brett when I wasn’t even sure myself?

I left Kat’s room, telling a Crusader to get some bars up on her window. Krieg inclined his head towards me as he stood guard outside Kat’s room. I nodded back, not letting my face betray anything.

Krieg was a product of a different age, I had to tell myself. The problem: he was dragging my friend back to it.

But that didn’t matter. All that mattered was survival. At all costs. Even if it meant making a deal with the very creatures I’d sworn to kill.

Chapter 16.    Allegiance

I travelled in darkness, accompanied only by the reassuring chorus of my motorcycle’s engine, and the whispers of my past. Unbidden, the faces of all I’d lost came back to me as I sped through the eerily quiet night, into the dark, wooded lands of Constantia, towards a house I’d stormed years back, and where I’d failed in my final duty. Again.

If only the Izingane Zegazi knew how weak I was! That Kuzalwa had not died by my hand. Graham, that bastard, had played a final joke on me in the end. His destruction of the vampire lord had been so final, that it had muddied the connection he had with the Blood. The last thing they knew, was that Kuzalwa had been fighting me. An errant tokoloshe was the last thing they would believe.

But I’d killed one of them now. For real. Well, Cindy had. What would I do without her?

That battle at my wedding had been deceptive. Sure, in the old days, we would have been slaughtered. But we were powerful now. Even for a true vampire lord. For a moment, I thought we could handle this. That the Crusaders could defeat the inevitable. Together.

Then, the Terror fell. Ukwesaba had been a horror story that my master, Silumko, had told me around the campfire. I hadn’t believed it could all be true. Vampires were horrifying already. But Ukwesaba - he was a nightmare made manifest.

And now I was living it.

But it wasn’t the onslaught, the violence, or the relentlessness that got to me. It was how close it came to seeming normal. Human terrorists were normal. And Ukwesaba wasn’t doing anything that a sick, twisted human couldn’t do themselves. But what separated Ukwesaba from a human terrorist were his goals.

A terrorist would stop when his goals were fulfilled. When the violence had reached its apex. And, if the violence didn’t work, they would eventually give up.

I had no such expectations of Ukwesaba and the Children. There was only one way we were going to end this.

Last man or last vampire standing.

And I would make sure it was me and my own standing underneath a golden sun. Even if it meant vampires stood near us in the shade.

I arrived outside the Sanguineas manor house, nestled in the dark, woodland suburbs of Constantia. I had been here before, but the normalcy of the manor still struck me. It wasn’t a gaudy, gothic-style manor house, a Transylvanian castle or even an opulent, modern villa. It would have fit in easily in any suburb in Hope City. Functional, quaint, even for its size, as it was no doubt teeming with vamps.

My heart, previously calm, began to beat like a machine gun. I should turn back. This was stupid. Last time I’d come here, I’d tried to kill Victoria Kruger! And now I was asking her for help. Brett was right. This was insanity.

But, I didn’t turn to leave. Because I didn’t know what else we were going to do.

I approached the wrought iron gate and reached towards the intercom.

But, before I could press any button, the gate’s motors came to life and it slowly swung open.

Not the least bit ominous!

They knew I was here. And they were inviting me in. Like a spider offering a nice, warm spot on its web to a fly.

I slowly drove down the driveway, watching the darkness. It was empty. Well, as far as I knew. My gut told me that a dozen eyes were watching me. Considering me. They saw the bulges of my twin holsters, and the weight of a flak jacket underneath my shirt. Perhaps, they even saw the glint of silver, peaking from my knife-hilt, and the collar I wore around my neck.

I came for parley, but I was always prepared for a fight.

I stopped outside the open door of the Sanguineas manor. The door had been open last time as well. Seems that Hope City’s crime rates didn’t really affect vampires. Not that they bothered hunters either. And, remembering what Victoria Kruger had put us through last time…I pitied any burglar foolish enough to walk through that door.

Which meant I had a lot of pity for myself, as I dismounted my bike and entered the dark halls of Sanguineas.

A single candle sprung to life, just as the door slammed behind me. The orange flickering of the candle tried to beat back the shadows. But there was a life to the darkness. It ebbed and pulsated. As if organic.

“Boy…” a chorus of voices whispered and hissed.

“Hunter of Blood. Have you avenged your people, little inkwenkwe?”

They spoke at once. A chorus of mockery. I would have been hurt, once before. But it had all been said to me already. Cindy had changed everything. She loved me. She knew I was a man. And it also didn’t matter to her. And she was all that mattered to me.

I had feared entering this house, but if this was what they thought would scare me, then perhaps I was far more powerful than I’d given myself credit for.

“Your comrades bleed, boy. They are drained by our cousins. And you can’t do a thing. Think you can come to our halls, to our home, and take revenge? Your fight is elsewhere…Crusader of…Nothing.”

I stood, almost bored, as the darkness and voices surrounded me. I’d let them have their fun. I checked my watch. As long as they weren’t too long…

The voices stopped. I felt uncertainty coming from the darkness. Then, the shadows opened, revealing a staircase. Descending said staircase was a lithe, pale woman with a blonde bun, glasses and wearing a blood-red dress. Her every movement seemed deliberate. Simultaneously seductive, elegant…and predatory.

Victoria Kruger smiled, revealing her fangs as her eyes glowed red. She entered the darkness, as it encroached on me again.

“You came to my house once before, Guy Giles-Mgebe. But you had a different name then.”

I felt a cold hand caress my cheek.

“It pains me to see such lively flesh…be claimed by the golden-touched. Such a waste…”

Cold breath touched my neck. I didn’t move.

“But, why should I let her have you for herself…when I could just have a little taste…” she purred, like a tiger.

“Enough, Victoria,” I said, command in my voice. The shadows dulled, lightened, for just a second. Victoria went silent. And I heard muttering from the rooms of the house.

“Drop the monster act. We both know you’re a rational professional. You didn’t kill me or my colleague back then, and you don’t plan to now. You, better than anyone else, understands the ecosystem of this city. And you know that killing me won’t help you.”

Victoria was silent from her hiding place. Her magic shadows were hesitant, but then strengthened.

“Au contraire, little hunter. Do I need a reason to kill you besides sating my thirst? Perhaps, I could carve you up afterwards, and deliver your head to Ukwesaba as a birthday gift. I don’t know his siring date, but I think he’d care much for the technicalities.”

“You wouldn’t do that,” I replied, confidently. “Because Ukwesaba is not of your clan. He is an invader on your territory. I am not a vampire, but I know enough about your kind to know that you would never aid an invader of your hunting ground. And for me? I know you believe we must coexist. For your own sake, if not ours.”

The shadows loomed, and the candle flickered. Until Victoria sighed in a very human manner, and the darkness fell completely, replaced by electric lighting.

She stood at the foot of the stairs and gestured for me to follow. I did, as her kin watched us leave the entrance hall where they’d failed to scare the life out of me. If anything, I was calmer than I had been before.

“I will speak with you candidly, Guy Giles-Mgebe,” Victoria said, dropping her predatory voice and replacing it with an officious one. That of a strict teacher. “Congratulations, by the way. Cindy Giles is not my type, but I can see the appeal.”

She led me to her office, where she had taken Brett and me to task years before and offered me a seat. I accepted. I was feeling confident, but not stupid enough to decline an offer from a vampire queen.

She sat opposite me; her bare, white legs crossed. Her eyes examined me through her secretary glasses. Not the way a predator would gaze at prey, but appraising me, nevertheless.

“Well, speak up. Why have you come here? Not to try slaying me again. It would be a shame for Kat Drummond to lose one of her lieutenants. Where is the Last Light, anyway? Oh, don’t make a face! I’ve never held anything against her, or the angel that killed my kin. I am pragmatic. Charlene chose the path of death, and it caught up to her. I would like to know where the hero of this city is on this, another night of terror.”

“Your intelligence-gathering is sloppy,” I replied. “Kat is incapacitated.”

Victoria didn’t betray her feelings on that. Her face remained perfectly impassive.

“I did not expect those Eastern fools to be able to harm her. The rest of you, yes, but not her. The remnants of the Blood Cartel still whisper of how she banished their god.”

“She was attacked by a civilian. A cursed knife. Perhaps Ukwesaba’s work…we do not know.”

Victoria uncrossed her legs, then swapped them.

“So, you have come here…why?”

“I would like to propose an alliance.”

Victoria burst out laughing, letting spittle fly and hit me on the face. My cheeks reddened at the display. Victoria had to clutch her belly, as she guffawed. Finally, she stopped, wiping a tear from her eye.

“Why would it be so ridiculous?” I asked, unable to keep at least a bit of offence out of my voice. “You can’t really be okay with the Izingane Zegazi staking a claim over your city? They won’t stop with us. If we’re defeated, they will purge all the other vampire families that don’t bend the knee, like they did in the Empire. Would you bend the knee?”

“Bah! Of course not. But it would never come to that. If they want to fight, we will fight them. But they won’t. We are rational creatures. Vampires don’t fight other vampires if they don’t have to, even those as foolish as those imperial lapdogs. Your comrades have extinguished the lives of countless of my flock. Do you really think my kin would be willing to work with you?”

She shook her head, exposing her fangs as she grinned, toothily.

“A childish, foolish notion. So amusing that I’ll even let you walk out here alive. Just a small reward for…”

She went silent, suddenly. Something sparked in her eyes. A dark spot in the sea of red. Somehow, her white skin went even paler.

“Carlos…” she whispered. “No…”

Suddenly, she fell to her knees, clutching her heart. “No…no…NO! My children. Fuck! Why? How…it can’t be…”

She looked up, past my shoulder, towards the door. An explosion wracked the house.

Rage, as intense and as cold as the most primal storm, awoke in Victoria’s eyes. She stood, her calmness more terrifying than the horror show she had attempted on me minutes before.

I made way for her to pass. She didn’t stop to open her door. She pushed it away using the pulsating darkness, letting it fly off its hinges. The sound of combat reverberated through the house.

She stopped and looked at me over her shoulder.

“You may draw your weapon, Giles-Mgebe.”

Like a little boy obeying an order from his teacher, I drew my pistols and followed the vampire queen into her manor.

Rubble was strewn throughout the foyer, and among it, vampires fought claw to claw, fang to fang. They’d blown a hole in the roof, letting moonlight spill into the entrance hall. The vampires lashed out at each other, like beasts, raking through fine suits and combat fatigues. Vampires wouldn’t have silver to kill one another. So, they used their bodies.

Victoria descended the stairs quietly, calmly. A black-clad vamp charged her. She flicked the air, sending a tendril of black to pierce the vamp through the head. He fell limp and collapsed in a heap.

I had never felt so thankful that I’d never come to blows with her before! Brett and I had never stood a chance.

It took Victoria killing three more Izingane Zegazi before I came to my senses. I aimed my weapons and fired a volley into my enemies, missing the Sanguineas vampires. Never thought I’d be sparing vamps. But it was a night for change.

Vamps hissed and smoke rose from the silver in their wounds. Those that didn’t die instantly were put down by Victoria or the others. But the Zulu vampires were strong. They had weapons with them. Brutal, thick blades. The types I would have wanted to use against vampires myself. They had come prepared.

Sanguineas vamps fell, even as Victoria’s onslaught decimated the attackers.

A vamp flew to my position on black wings. I rolled down the stairs, dodging its attack, landing by Victoria’s feet and opening fire on the flying vamp. It plummeted to the ground, just by my head. Victoria stomped down on its head, letting her stiletto pierce its skull.

The surviving Sanguineas formed a circle around their queen, as I stood and kept firing at the enemy. But there were too many of them. I hadn’t packed for an extended battle. I fired again, and again. One shot, two shots. Click…click.

I was out.

I holstered my pistols and drew my knife. But the Izingane Zegazi and the ghouls that served them froze. Victoria dropped her arms, letting her tendrils dissipate.

The circle of enemy vampires and ghouls opened, and Ukwesaba himself appeared, clapping his clawed hands with glee. I could see his white, fangless grin in the moonlight.

“Oh, how lucky of me. The Blood truly brings fortune on this night of terror. I came here to honourably extinguish the life of a squatter, and I get to destroy the human who killed not one but two of my brothers. Good fortune indeed.”

Victoria laughed, but there was no glee.

“Squatter? You’re the invader. We could have lived peacefully, imperial scum. I had no problem with you hunting the hunters. But this…” her eyes shone an angry crimson. She yelled. “You killed my kin!”

“Do not weep for them, pretender,” Ukwesaba replied. “You will join them soon. And the rest of your kin shall follow. After you…”

A sonic boom deafened me, as I was pushed away by the shockwave. I rubbed my head, lying next to groggy and shocked Sanguineas vamps. I had never seen a vamp move that fast! I looked up, towards Victoria, fearing for the worst. My eyes couldn’t believe what I saw.

Victoria stood, her dress and pose unchanged and impeccable, as she held Ukwesaba’s balled fist, daintily in her own.

“Your first mistake…” she hissed. “…was coming to my home…”

Ukwesaba’s scream forced me to bring my hands to my ears. He fell to his knees, holding a bloody stump of crushed bone, oozing blood and muscle.

She grabbed him by his hair and lifted him up. His eyes showed white. Palpable fear. I’d seen it in fledgelings. Never in true vampires.

“Your second mistake was killing my children.”

She lifted him up, and swiftly swung him towards the ground. The crack of his legs echoed. Even the vamps to my side winced.

“Your last mistake,” she whispered, just loud enough so I could hear, despite the ringing in my ears. “Was thinking this city belongs to anyone but ME. I am Victoria Kruger of San-fucking-guineas! This is my city. And I won’t have imperial dogs feeding on my turf.”

She lifted Ukwesaba to eye-level. I could see a flicker behind his eyes. She stared deep into him. Past him. Into whoever was watching through his eyes.

“You brought this war upon yourself, King of Blood. I’ll be ready.”

She plunged her open hand deep into Ukwesaba’s chest, as the vampire screamed. Suddenly, he stopped, as she crushed his heart. He collapsed into ash, as if scorched by the sun.

The Izingane Zegazi that had surrounded us were gone. Fled? No…that was ash. How potent was that attack?

I had never seen a vampire fight a vampire before. Perhaps, we should have been recruiting them all along…

A Sanguineas vamp, wearing what looked like a butler’s tuxedo, kneeled beside Victoria, holding up a towel.

She accepted it and wiped away the blood from her hand. Without looking at me, she spoke.

“I agree to your offer, Guy of the Crusaders. This is my feeding ground. My domain. And I’ll help you put down these rabid dogs.”

Chapter 17.    Void

***KAT***

It had been an age since I wandered the fields of Ithalen like this. The blood soaked fields of that final stand haunted my nightmares, but very seldom had I been allowed to walk the settlement peacefully. Not a corpse, moving or unmoving, was in sight.

When I had been here last, in life, it was as if in a dream. A blood-drenched haze. None of it seemed real. My muscles had been exhausted far past the point of pain. And my mind had come close to breaking. I had survived when hundreds had died. It changed me. And I never saw myself, life or anything else, the same way since. And perhaps, that’s why I returned here now.

I walked through the half-open gates of the Ithalen stockade, stroking my hand across the rough timber. It felt real. I sniffed and smelled the dew of the dawn. No rot. No blood. No fire.

It felt more real than it had ever done in life. And I was more lucid than any other time I had walked this hallowed ground.

But I knew it could not be real. Well, at least not real by my Earthly standards. I remembered the pain and everything going black. And I remembered trying to turn myself in to save my friends.

I wanted to feel anxious at leaving my friends behind. And I did feel sad. Especially for Brett. His roar still echoed in my ears. It was far sadder than angry. A wail of pain. As if from an animal.

Oh, Brett…

I didn’t know if I would ever see him again. And that broke my heart more than anything else. But for now, all I could do was wander, through this quiet, ghostly village.

And talking about ghosts…

“You’re awfully quiet, Treth,” I spoke, my voice jarring against the stillness in the air.

He didn’t reply.

I sighed. It seems this was a dream. Or something like it. Perhaps, something more permanent. But it appeared I was alone here.

I felt a twinge of loneliness, and the inevitable worry that this may be permanent. That I may have finally died. But I banished those thoughts. Surprisingly, it was quite easy to do so.

There was something calming about this place. The stillness and quiet wasn’t eerie. It was peaceful. And, seeing this place, undestroyed and covered in the dead…it was good. It felt right.

I continued up Ithalen’s path, onto the hillside and past the caves where the people had slept and made a life for themselves in the wreckage of this world.

I crossed by Akreon’s cave. It was here where I’d spoken to the people of Ithalen. I had told them about Earth. About hope. I made them willing to believe in a better future. Of what was possible.

Most of them had died.

But, some had lived. They travelled to Concord. I hoped they had made it. Treth never spoke about it, but I could sense his thoughts, sometimes. He dwelled on it often.

I stared into the blackness of the cave, remembering my short-lived friendships. Akreon, Levi, Kynthen, Gerin, Culurian, Illian…

In a way, I missed them. I stayed still, staring wistfully into the void, imagining smells, faces, words spoken and unspoken - when a bark woke me from my reverie.

I turned to face the path, suddenly. Standing at the foot of a makeshift stairway, wagging its tail, was a brown dog. And not just any…

Tears came unbidden to my eyes, accompanied by my mouth breaking into a genuine smile.

The dog barked again, happily, and charged me. I let it bowl me over, speaking sweet nonsense, as it licked my face.

“I missed you too!” I managed to choke out between tears and the onslaught of this ecstatic pooch.

Finally, the dog sat by my side. I placed my hand on her head and scratched her behind the ears.

“I never got to thank you,” I said, my smile sadder. “And to apologise.”

She cocked her head at me and then licked me again. I laughed, and then cupped her head in my hands. She was smiling, in the way dogs do, as her tail beat the dusty ground. She had been skinnier in life. Emaciated. A stray. Flea-bitten and pursued by undead beasts. But now…she looked like she had a home. That she was loved. I was glad.

“Thank you,” I said. “And I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”

She lifted her right paw and placed it on my knee. I felt a weight lift then. A weight I hadn’t realised I had been carrying, until now.

The brown dog which had died helping me all those years ago, stood up and turned in a circle, then faced up the hill, indicating that I should follow.

I rubbed the tears from my eyes and complied as she trotted along.

I didn’t know what she was leading me towards. Frankly, I didn’t care. I was just glad to see her again. Even if this was likely just a dream.

I realised just before we arrived that she was leading me to the perch where I’d watched that final sunset before the Battle of Ithalen. I had been prepared to die then. If Treth was here, he’d probably comment that he had been right. I hadn’t died.

But I had never truly left Ithalen.

When I arrived on the perch, the dog and I were not alone.

She trotted up to the precipice, where a white-winged figure with splendid silver hair, sat with her feet hanging off the edge.

“Ariel?” I asked, stepping towards the angel.

She turned to face me, as she stroked the dog’s head. She smiled. A faint smile, more honest and carefree than anything she had shown me in life.

“Hello, Kat. I hope you don’t mind me sitting here. This is your place, after all.”

“You saved me…all of us. I’d be a real piece of work if I kicked you off a rock.”

Ariel, uncharacteristically, snorted in amusement, and turned to face the horizon once again. It was day, I noted, and there was not a cloud in the sky. But I saw no sun.

“You know her?” I asked, indicating the dog, whose tongue was lolling out, contentedly.

“All denizens of your Vessel do. We call her Valour. She is one of the original inhabitants of the Vessel, besides your knightly friend. Where is he, anyway?”

“I thought you’d know that. He’s conspicuously absent.”

I examined the angel. In life, she had been stuck up. Obsessed with duty, whatever the cost. But in the end, she’d died doing the right thing.

She seemed lighter now. Freer. Her glow wasn’t any brighter, but it didn’t seem forced or overly intense. It was a contented glow. Easy on the eyes.

“You fought a battle here,” she finally said, looking down towards the village and stockade. “What happened?”

I stepped closer, taking a seat by her side. Valour came up and licked my face, before sitting between us.

“I stood with the survivors of a dead world. We didn’t expect to win. Only to last long enough to distract an undead horde from pursuing the rest of us from heading to a city to start a new life.”

I shook my head, remembering that day again and again.

“They weren’t warriors. They were just people. Normal people. And none of them expected to live. But they were prepared to die for their families. I decided that if I was to die, it should be among them. I taught them what I could in such a short time. Come the dawn…I held the line. And when it fell, I held the next. Again, and again. Until I could not. I watched over a hundred good men and women die here. People whom I befriended in a short time. People I loved for what they were willing to defend. But, for my sins, I did not die. I stumbled from this graveyard, thinking I’d escaped it. But it seems that I keep coming back.”

I looked at the angel. Her impeccable, glowing face did not betray her emotions.

“Ariel…is this the last time I return to this place? Am I dead?”

“You are not dead,” Ariel replied. “That much I am certain of. Treth would be here if you were. From what I have come to understand from the older denizens of the Vessel within your soul, I suspect you are merely in a coma.”

I snorted. “Merely!”

Ariel smiled. “Think of it as a rest, Kat. You deserve one.”

“Not while my comrades are fighting without me. Not while they need me.”

“They will never stop needing you. But they can handle themselves just as well. And Treth will be waiting for you when you return.”

Despite wanting to feel anxious, I just couldn’t. There was something so calming about this place. And Ariel, when she wasn’t aggravating me with her skewed Seraphim logic, was quite calming herself.

I sat back, and let my hand fall on Valour, who lay down, putting her head on my lap.

“I have met the people you fought alongside,” Ariel said. “They told me the story. But they don’t relive it like you do. I can hear it in your words. The battle pulls at you. Stabs you. You still live it. Every day.”

She turned to me. “Why?”

Why, indeed?

Perhaps…

“Because somebody has to remember it. Because people who matter died here. Because it changed me. Maybe, because it mattered. And things that matter should be remembered, no matter how painful.”

“Even if it causes you so much pain?”

I nodded, firmly. “Grief is a worthy cost for love.”

Ariel glowed, faintly. Almost like a pixie. I wondered if Seraphim and pixies were related. Duer would probably be offended by that notion.

“I once believed that love was not worth it,” Ariel replied. “Because it could be lost. It caused so much pain. So much loss. But I’ve realised that we fear its loss because it is worth it. We wouldn’t fear losing love if it wasn’t worth gaining.”

Slowly, Ariel stood, stretching her wings and arms above me.

“Love requires courage, Kat. And sacrifice. And it can cause pain. You can lose it and you will fear its loss. But that is because it is what matters.”

I stood beside her. The sky was going gold, as the invisible sun began to set.

She faced me.

“The Darkness will always press in to attempt to devour the Light. But, if we keep what we love close, and we keep loving it, fighting for it…we will win.”

She held my hands and squeezed. She smiled, knowingly and brightly.

“Stay strong, Kat Drummond. You can and will win this. All of this. And we’ll be there to help you.”

Valour and Ariel disappeared. But I still felt their presence within, pressed close to my heart. I closed my eyes, clutching my chest. I smiled.

They were close. All of them. And that’s what mattered.

Chapter 18.    Regret

***GUY***

“I have just returned from meeting with…”

I hesitated. A dozen pairs of eyes stared at me from around the hospital’s foyer. Only Crusaders were in sight. We’d fortified this position into our base of operations. No new patients were allowed past the police checkpoint. I had only managed to leave and return by sneaking through a tunnel set up by the purifiers. Just in case of demonic invasion or something equally apocalyptic. All very possible in Hope City.

I needed to tell them what I’d seen. What I’d done. But would they understand? And did that matter?

“A meeting with Victoria Kruger of the Sanguineas Syndicate…”

A cacophony of voices erupted just as I said the name. I should have expected this. Even with all the casualties, this was still a rowdy bunch. They never wasted an opportunity to shout and protest. Even with Kat. And they respected her.

“She killed Ukwesaba!” I yelled over the din. That silenced them.

I glanced at my wife, standing at the back. I had wanted her by my side, but she was busy with Kat and had arrived late. But, even at the back of the crowd, staring into my eyes, I felt a bit stronger.

“She killed the vampire lord as easily as we slay zombies,” I continued. “Because of this, and because there is no other way, we have formed an alliance against the Izingane Zegazi.”

Silence. And then the arguments erupted. Many called me stupid. I heard the words naïve, and traitor being thrown around. Krieg stood at the back. He shook his head and climbed the stairs. Probably to go tell Brett. That was going to go well!

Kat probably would have given some great and inspiring speech to allay their concerns. To get them ready for battle. She’d have an argument to make them see reason. And, if not that, she’d make them feel better about it. Even if it was a mistake…

And perhaps, it was.

But too late to go back now.

I wasn’t Kat. I turned, and left, leaving the crowd to argue amongst themselves. I felt someone follow as I left the foyer and the frustrated anger.

“I thought that hearing that another vampire lord is dead would please them,” Cindy said, catching up to me and grabbing my hand.

I squeezed it, and sighed.

“A lion doesn’t relish a kill it did not make. They hate vampires. I do too…but…”

Cindy caressed my cheek. I looked into her eyes. She smiled, reassuringly.

“You did what you had to.”

“Brett will be angry.”

Cindy glowered. “Brett isn’t in his right mind. Something in his head has broken. I’m not sure we can mend it until Kat is back. But I’m sure that he’ll come to his senses eventually.”

“I don’t know, love. Brett and I…we met and bonded over a mutual hatred. And we still have that. But I think…I’ve seen the need for me to put that hatred aside. Brett is my brother for far more reasons than our hatred of vampires. I hope he knows that…”

“You’ve grown up.” Cindy said it as if to a child, cheekily.

“Thanks.” I smiled, faintly, before frowning again. “But I don’t think my brother has. Not yet.”

I looked back towards the foyer. The shouting was quieter now, dulled by hospital doors. But it was still there.

“They will still fight for you,” Cindy insisted, reading my mind.

“They’ll fight for her,” I corrected.

“She left you in charge for a reason. A reason I agree with. They may not know it, but you did the right thing.”

“Did I? Victoria is powerful. She destroyed Ukwesaba with a single blow. Toyed with him before that.”

I shook my head. I still couldn’t believe what I had seen. Such immense power…

“She’s a true monster. I’m not sure if we’re only trading one enemy for another. I feel like I’ve made a deal with the devil.”

Cindy grinned. “Well, lucky for you, I have experience with annulling demonic documents.”

Even with all that was going on, I couldn’t help but laugh, and embrace my wife. I loved that word. Wife. And I loved how real it felt. It didn’t feel like a dream. I was lucid. Completely. And it was wonderful.

But the reality of our situation returned. I sighed.

“I still think it may have been better if I hadn’t stayed. All this loss…and with Kat hurt. And this deal with Sanguineas. Perhaps, I should have fled, and not dragged you all into this.”

“If you had run,” Cindy replied, coldness belying the anger in her voice. “You wouldn’t be you. You wouldn’t be the man I love. You never intended to run away from your problems. If you had, you would have left a long time ago. But you didn’t. Because no matter what you told yourself, you always planned to finish this. Not for revenge, not for hate. But because that’s the type of man you are. You do the right thing.”

I didn’t know how to respond. So, I held my wife closer and let her hold me.

“Besides,” she said. “Two vampire lords down, one more to go. The end is in sight, my love.”

“Yes…but at what cost?”

Cindy couldn’t respond.

But it was too late to regret anything, I realised. She was right. The end was in sight. The light, or the dark, at the end of the tunnel. We could mourn our dead when this was done. There was no use regretting what could not be undone.

So, I held my wife close to me, and I vowed to protect her. Whatever the cost. Forever.

Chapter 19.    Reprieve

I blinked into the sun and took a deep breath. It smelled like petrol, concrete and dust. The sounds of machinery, saws and yelling builders created a sonorous, chaotic symphony. It was noisy, disruptive, and reeked of life.

It was a welcome reprieve from the horrors of the past week. To see the Crusader HQ and its surrounds bustling with activity, it was a welcome sight.

Since Victoria slew Ukwesaba, we had not faced another night of terrors. Word was that Sanguineas were picking off stragglers. Not just Izingane Zegazi, but any vampire clan that didn’t fall under their bloody banner.

Part of me worried about what I had unleashed on the city. The other part could not help but just smile as I let the sun warm my face.

Cindy and I had slept at home last night. It had been quiet. Peaceful. We’d spent time together as we should. And it had been working with vampires that had let that happen.

I still hadn’t spoken to Brett about it. I didn’t know if he’d think it was worth it. Not that he had given me the opportunity to speak to him lately. He didn’t seem to ever leave Kat’s side – guarding her like a dragon does gold.

My heart stung at the thought of my brother never forgiving me for this. But I could live with that if it meant that he was safe.

Kuzalwa, Umbhubhisi, Ukwesaba. Three down. Three vampires that I’d dreamed of slaying since I was a boy. It was a dream that most Blood Hunters believed impossible. That, despite our sacrifice, our skill, and our determination, we’d never rid the world of the founding Children.

But we’d been wrong.

I wondered what Silumko would think of me now…

I wanted to be happy at what we’d done so far. I wanted to feel triumphant. But, for now, I could only feel the relief of this slight reprieve, and the encroaching darkness that was approaching. Fast.

The Blood Remembers. They always do. And the King of Blood, Nkosiyabo, was on the way. I had seen what Victoria could do to a vampire lord, but could she do the same to the vampire lord?

Vampires were secretive. Arrogant, often, yes. But not stupid. Ukwesaba and Umbhubhisi only moved in when they underestimated their enemies. Before then, they would prod, and experiment. No matter how much harm it caused. They would slaughter.

Ukwesaba’s reign of terror had almost destroyed us. It had put our leader in a hospital bed. And he wasn’t the king.

Despite this reprieve, despite all that we’d accomplished, I was afraid. For I knew that even with all they’d thrown at us already, the next attack would be the largest. And I was not sure we would be able to survive it.

I couldn’t help but sigh as I oversaw the rebuilding and repair of the Crusader HQ. They were patching up the gaping holes in the walls that the ghouls had left, while also reinforcing weak points. The attack had given us a good opportunity to insert steel and silver plating and bars in the walls. When Kat awoke (I didn’t worry myself with ifs), she’d be able to come home to a new fortress!

I only hoped she awoke before this next battle. But I couldn’t help but feel selfish thinking that. Because I wanted her to handle it. Even though she’d left me in charge, I had gotten used to relying on the Last Light to save me.

But, can you blame me? She’s the Last Light!

Jane clearing her throat interrupted my contemplation. I turned to her. She clutched a bunch of papers on a clipboard. Her expression was grim. I nodded, acknowledging her.

She stepped forward and showed me the papers.

“Repairs and construction are going smoothly. It’s costing us quite a bit, but it’s a necessary expense,” she said, passing me a page full of costs and figures. I almost winced. I hoped Kat didn’t see this…

“Are the men finding any time to go hunting during this break?” I asked. We needed the money.

Jane frowned.

“Trudie’s pack has been dominating the shifts. The twins are able to act alone now. I don’t think we’d be able to cover half of our obligations without them. But, besides the werewolves…” she hesitated. “A lot of the Crusaders are in the hospital or…”

“Prison?”

“Thankfully, not yet. But Kyong is awaiting trial. Heather has gotten off but hasn’t reported in.”

Heather used to be so nice. But she was always sensitive. What happened to Hammond broke her. And killing the Necro Lord hadn’t helped. It was just fuel on the fire that some thugs attacked her family.

“And the others?” I asked.

Jane shifted her feet and looked away.

“It doesn’t look good. The active personnel are refusing to leave their posts at the hospital. They’re afraid of the police, or thugs, or vampires coming for Kat. For others…they’re refusing to work.”

“Why?”

Jane pursed her lips. She didn’t want to say. Which made it much more important that she did.

Finally, my stare broke her down and she spoke.

“Some of the men don’t like your decision to work with the vampires. They’re striking. I’ve told them that if they don’t work, they don’t get paid. They don’t care.”

Typical. I expected this. But I had hoped I’d be wrong. Perhaps, I shouldn’t be fearing the King of Blood. Maybe, I should be worrying if Kat would wake up to the Crusaders still existing at all.

“And what do you think?” I asked, simply.

“Of your deal with the vampires?” Jane pondered the thought, staring out at the builders as they worked. A small part of me was nostalgic for construction work. In between hunts as a Blood Hunter, I had been forced to work on construction sites to pay for fuel and food. Graham had mocked me ceaselessly, while weighing down bricks and being a general nuisance. I hated it then, but time had a way of changing perspectives.

Jane finally spoke, as if giving a lecture.

“A real leader sometimes has to be the bad guy. To make hard decisions. Unpopular decisions. The right decision isn’t always the one everyone wants. A leader needs to do what it takes. No matter if it brings scorn or fame.”

I couldn’t help but snort.

“Rich coming from a politician.”

Jane looked shocked, as if she’d never seen me joke before, then smiled, faintly.

“Democracy is the best system we’ve got that doesn’t involve mage juntas. But it has many flaws. It doesn’t allow leaders to make the unpopular choice. Even if it is the right one. I was a politician, but I always admired hunters. Because they were allowed to do what it takes to defend this city. They didn’t have to look pretty for the cameras. They didn’t have to lie or play dress-up. They killed evil. Gruesomely. They made a difference, regardless of the polls.”

“But, is my decision the right decision? I know it’s unpopular.”

She shrugged. “It is not up to me to say or think. In peace time, we can quibble about principles and petty policy. But this is war. In war, you do what it takes to survive.”

She straightened her skirt and turned, stopping to look me in the eyes.

“I suspect that we will all realise this near the end. And then we will know if your decision was the right one.”

I knew what I’d do to protect Cindy and the others. And I didn’t care if they loved me for it, so long as they were safe.

But I also knew another thing. It didn’t matter if my decision was the right one if nobody else thought so. This may not be a democracy, but I still needed the faith of Kat’s…my soldiers.

To win this, to survive, we had to work together.

I came to a simple conclusion among the cacophony of construction, and as the sun bathed the Earth.

I needed them to follow me. I needed them to understand my decision. And I had to go and see Brett.

Chapter 20.    Rivalry

The glass of a rifle scope glinted in the sunlight from the rooftop of the hospital. Henri. Guarding this once civilian hospital with an eagle eye. Losing an eye hadn’t ruined his skills. It had only made him harder.

That saddened me. He had been innocent, and oh-so-polite when he had joined the Crusaders. But now…he was becoming more and more like me. Not something I desired in the worst of men.

The Crusaders standing guard by the double doors of the hospital eyed me and did not salute as I entered. I didn’t press them. They were standing guard. Doing something. That was enough for now. I didn’t need to push them to respect me. So long as they did their jobs.

“Mr Giles-Mgebe,” the receptionist greeted, with a smile. The purifiers were much more pleasant to me than the Crusaders now were. They extended the respect they had for my wife to me. Even if the Crusaders had basically expropriated this hospital for our use. At least we’d paid to move all the patients to other facilities. We didn’t want them caught in any crossfire. “Are you looking for your wife?”

“Not at the moment, Gloria. Thank you. I’m heading up.”

Gloria frowned. “She still isn’t awake, I’m afraid. Cindy suspects it is just a matter of time. The curse took its toll.”

I nodded in understanding but still proceeded up the stairway to where Kat lay. On the stairs, I passed the wizard – Pranish.

I’d first met the wizard years ago. A bit after I’d met Kat. His girlfriend, now a werewolf topping the earning charts among the Crusaders, had been kidnapped by vampires. Kat, with nowhere else to turn, asked Brett and me for help. We obliged.

I remembered a quiet boy wearing a grey sweater vest. He’d been shaking. Positively vibrating with panic, as he tore through a little notepad. The type you buy at a stationary shop.

I’d worried then. Thought we’d have to babysit this guy. I had Brett’s word that Kat knew what she was doing, and I’d heard stories about her. But Pranish…Pranish was an unknown. As far as I could tell, he was just some geek whose friend had been kidnapped.

Then he’d tossed a fireball so hot it incinerated a squad of ghouls in seconds.

I changed my estimation of him immediately. Since then, Pranish had been not just a mastermind within the Crusaders, thinking up magical solutions to all our problems, but a heavy hitter when the weyline was good.

Kat kept talking about how Kyong could replace most of us with his force magic. I said the same thing about Pranish.

Pranish nodded in greeting but kept going down the stairs. We hardly ever spoke. Even when we had played pool at the Gravekeeper, we usually did so in silence. Just the way I liked it.

But that was a different time. A time for quiet. When I did not have the responsibilities of leadership.

“Pranish,” I called. He stopped, surprised, and turned towards me.

“How’s the pack holding up?” I asked, my words sounding a little forced.

Pranish looked a tad confused and then nodded, as if he’d figured something out.

“Trudie is worried. It’s hurting her ability to control the beast. Don’t worry, though! She’s strong. She’ll handle it. And we’re used to almost losing Kat. We knew her when she wasn’t indestructible.”

It was easy to forget sometimes that Kat had once been, well, normal.

“Did you come to see her?” I asked.

He shook his head. “I came to help with the warding. The purifiers are good at warding against dark spirits and demons, which we always need to worry about, but their wards against infiltration magic is lacking.”

I didn’t realise! Count on Pranish to think of something like that.

“Are the wards sorted now, then?”

“They will be. I need to go pick up some supplies in Old Town. Then I’ll be right back.”

I nodded. “Thanks, Pranish. We…I appreciate it.”

Pranish smiled, faintly. “It’s what I do.”

We both turned to go our separate ways, when Pranish stopped and turned back to me.

“I know it must have been difficult to make your decision, Guy. But good things aren’t won easily. Before Trudie was turned, I was convinced that werewolves were all evil, starving beasts. Perhaps, this will let us learn a little bit more about vampires.”

Without waiting for a response, Pranish rounded the corner and left.

In a way, that quick exchange steadied me. Many doubted me, but more and more of the people who mattered were still with me. I wondered what Kat would think when she awoke. And it was when. I did not toy with the impossible idea of if.

She was going to come back. She always did.

I ascended the stairs somehow lighter than before. As if a weight had been lifted. But the real fight was yet to come.

I respected Pranish and Jane, but they weren’t my brother. And, as much as they may see what I had to do, I couldn’t say the same about Brett. He had been a different man this past while. Perhaps, the man I’d met all those years ago in the Karoo desert. A man I’d befriended and fought alongside against the forces we despised.

But, I had changed. And I knew who I had to fight for now.

Orange, fading light pooled into the hallway as I ascended the stairs. Had it really been a full day already? It couldn’t be dusk just yet. But I checked my watch. It was. At least, Ukwesaba was slain and Sanguineas was eliminating his surviving cronies. But, the recent memories of the onslaught were still with me. The dark held terrors. It had not yet fully set, and I already missed the sun.

I found myself staring out the window, towards the setting sun, as I felt a presence loom nearby.

Krieg stood silently by Kat’s door. His expression was, at first, impassive. But I was the king of hiding my emotions. I saw through Krieg’s façade. I saw the judgement. The hate.

Of course, I never expected anything else from him. But I had never cared. Brett was my concern.

I nodded in greeting to him. He did not nod back. No matter. I stepped forward to pass, and he blocked my way.

“Excuse me.”

He did not respond. I took a step back, and resisted sighing. After taking on the leadership role, I now knew why Kat sighed so much.

“Speak, Corpsman,” I said, simply.

Krieg nodded, as if happy to be acknowledge by the title.

“I think you know where we stand. But I can’t call you a Blood Hunter anymore. I’m not sure what to call you,” Krieg spat.

“Commander, substitute-commander, or Mr Giles-Mgebe,” I offered. “I don’t care.”

“It doesn’t say what you really are, or what you’ve done. The Last Light dealing with werewolves is one thing. They’re dogs. You can tame them. You can give them treats and they’ll roll over. But vampires…” he shook his head, as if he couldn’t believe it. “I’d much rather make a deal with a demon.”

“Cindy would advise against that.”

“If she’s fine with your decision, then I don’t want to hear a fucking word from her.”

Something crunched as I twitched. Krieg’s eyes widened, as I stepped forward.

“You can insult me, you can question me, you can even fight me if you want,” I replied, coldly, as I stared him right in the eyes. “But if you dare say even the slightest negative thing about my wife…I’ll make you wish you were dead.”

He tried to maintain my stare. I didn’t know what he’d seen in his life. Not really. We only knew the roads we’d walked down ourselves. But you can learn a lot from someone’s eyes. I saw anger in Krieg’s. Anger, fear, and loss. He winced and blinked.

“Let me pass,” I commanded, firmly.

“56 is a great man,” Krieg said, standing firm, even if his voice was softer. “He would have done the right thing. He wouldn’t have betrayed what really matters.”

“And what really matters to you?”

“There is evil in this world, and it must be destroyed. No matter the cost.”

No doubt in his voice. No wavering in his convictions.

But that only emboldened mine.

“I do not slay monsters because I hate them. I do it because I love others. We aren’t killers, Krieg. We’re protectors. It’s what we’re meant to be.”

“Then you are naïve. You can’t protect anyone, at all, if a single vampire still draws breath. Working with them…you’ve betrayed us.”

“I know what it is like to hate.”

“I doubt that,” Krieg growled.

I ignored him. “I know what it is like to hate and I know how little good it does. It wasn’t just vampires who killed my mother and took my home from me. It was Zulus. It was my distant cousins so obsessed with their power that they’d do anything to win. Even if it meant burning an innocent woman alive and sending her son to become a slave-soldier.”

I clenched my fist, feeling shards of glass in my hand. I’d crushed my phone. I didn’t feel any pain. But the anger I had held had subsided, as memories came flooding back.

Impi killing my neighbours, my friends, my family. Mqanduli, burning. And the Zulu Empire’s flag flying above it all…

But I also remembered a young impi, who would have been my age if he’d lived today. Sifiso had been everything I hated – but he became my friend. And he’d died protecting me.

“We can change, Krieg. And we can let go of the hate. No one is the same. Everyone has their own lives, their own troubles…and no one is evil all the time.”

“The Zulus are human. They aren’t like vamps. It is the nature of bloodsuckers to be unforgivable. They aren’t like us!”

“They used to be. And perhaps, that humanity is still in them.”

Krieg went silent. I thought I’d managed to get through to him.

“You’re too soft to lead,” he hissed.

Seems I was wrong.

“You will destroy us all,” he continued. “You think you can work with monsters? You think we can change? That we can stop remembering what they did to us?! The hate should never end. Not until they’ve paid for all their crimes. All of them! 56…Brett understands that! He should have been left in charge! Not you.”

I thought his words would enrage me. But they didn’t. I felt sad. Sad for him. Because as he yelled, tears fell from his eyes.

“I would never wish this burden on my friend, Krieg. Now, step aside.”

Krieg shook his head.

“I won’t let you hurt him.”

“I never would.”

“You would…you will…he’s Corps. He’s one of us. He’ll never forget.”

“Maybe…that’s the problem.”

I didn’t know if Krieg contemplated my words, as he stared into the abyss.

Wait…no. Not the abyss. Over my shoulder. At…

The air was taken out of me as Krieg tackled me to the ground. A bullet shattered the window, thudding into the wall.

The sun was not yet fully set – but it seemed our enemies had grown impatient.

Chapter 21.    Chaos

Krieg rolled off me as he drew his gun. More bullets flew through the windows, peppering the inner wall. I drew my own, now feeling the shards in my hand. Shit, I was an idiot! It had been so long since I’d lost my cool. Typical that it would finally happen at a time like this.

An explosion detonated somewhere in the distance, setting off a car alarm. Shouting erupted throughout the hospital. I heard the bang of Henri’s sniper rifle. Again, and again.

“Vampires?!” Krieg asked, eyes mad.

“The suns still up! But they may be working for vamps.”

Crashes sounded in Kat’s room, followed by gunfire. Brett!

“Cover the hall!” I ordered. Krieg did not object, as he crawled over to the window and peeked over, opening fire.

I waited for a lull and reached up to open the door.

Brett crouched by the window, firing a rifle at attackers below. He had pushed Kat’s bed and life support machines further into the room, away from the window.

I dashed past our commander. She looked peaceful. I hoped she was enjoying her nap while we faced this.

I collided with the wall, crouching with my back to it as I quickly bandaged my hand.

Brett eyed my wound, and then raised his head to open fire with another burst.

“I can see three hiding in the parking lot…” He said, not even wincing as shards fell by his head, a rifle-shot breaking the glass. “Sniper by the white jeep. I saw more surrounding the hospital.”

“Who are they?” I asked.

“Humans,” Brett replied. “No uniforms. Thugs, I think. Or mercenaries.”

“There’s still a bounty out on Kat and my heads.”

Brett sneered, as he reloaded a fresh magazine. “Then they’re gonna have to come and earn them.”

He fired off another volley. Hand bandaged, I peeked over and opened fire with my pistols. At this range, I was expecting to just provide suppressive fire to help Brett. But my friend didn’t seem to need it as he drilled a hole in the sniper’s head, downing him behind the jeep.

“Have you sent out an alert?” Brett asked.

“I lost my phone,” I lied.

Brett shrugged and then fired two more bursts before ducking again to avoid some fire.

Bullets whizzing overhead, Brett and I sat with our backs against the wall. It brought back memories. Perhaps, it wasn’t the time or place, but if not now, when?

“I’m sorry, Brett,” I said, somehow speaking just above the cacophony of gunfire. “For breaking our promise. For working with them.”

Brett peeked over and opened fire. I joined him and we downed two more attackers. But more flooded in. Where were the fucking police when you needed them?

A jeep cleared a hedge, crushing the foliage, and skidded to a halt in the parking lot. Its black tinted window opened, revealing the barrel of a machine gun. Brett and I tried to fire but had to duck as the gun rained death towards us. Thank German engineering for these thick walls!

“I haven’t been in my right mind, Guy,” Brett said, as we reloaded. “It’s just…I can’t lose her. Just thinking about it makes me go insane. It makes me forget. And it made me forget. But I remember now.”

He looked at me, seriously.

“I don’t want to lose you either.”

“You won’t, brother.”

In unison, we opened fire. The machine gunner fell, finger still on the trigger, firing off its rounds into the sky. A Crusader-marked car rammed it out of the way. Miraculously, Heather dived out of the backseat, beheading one of the thugs and then skewering another.

Brett and I shifted targets to aim at some new gunmen, their beads on our comrade. But it wasn’t needed. Kyong almost flew out of the car, lifting a shield of force magic that stopped the bullets in their tracks. The Crusaders had arrived!

“Besides,” I said, ducking back down to reload. “Kat would kill me if I tried to shirk my job by dying.”

Brett laughed, and then smiled.

“She was right. You know? Putting you in charge.”

I smiled back. “So, am I forgiven?”

“There is nothing to forgive.”

Our tender moment was interrupted by another explosion. Brett’s face went serious, as he crawled towards Kat’s bed.

“That was inside the building,” he said.

“Stay here. I’ll investigate.”

Brett nodded. I exited the room. Krieg was nowhere to be seen. I carefully looked out the window. It was dark now. The streetlights revealed corpses. A lot of them. It must have been a hefty bounty for all of them to be willing to split it among this many. Well, good for them that they’d have to split it between increasingly fewer people.

Keeping low, pistols at the ready, I kept moving. The explosion had definitely come from inside. A breach, possibly? But none had followed. Even the gunfire had become muffled. Farther away.

I turned a corner and peeked through another window. Crusaders fought rioters and attackers in a melee. How many of our detractors had come here?

This was less and less looking like opportunistic bounty hunters or mercs. This looked like reprisals. Revolutionaries storming the Bastille. Which would make us the Ancien Régime. Frankly, I didn’t care.

Hah. I was becoming more like Kat already. History references and not caring what others thought.

A few police fought alongside Crusaders. It seemed they preferred us. Good.

Something dropped further in the hospital, clattering.

I aimed my pistols down the hall. A light flickered. At least the lights were on at all.

Carefully, I walked down the hall. It was eerie. Quiet. Most of the Crusaders were either on the roof or bottom floor. We didn’t want anyone getting even close to Kat. But that meant that I was most likely alone on this floor. Well, not alone…

The light buzzed as it flickered. A mechanical hum. As I got closer, I saw what had made the noise. One of the bulbs had fallen out of its socket. Peculiar.

I stepped forward and stopped. The hum filled the air but, as the light flickered, so did the noise. Letting me hear other things.

The problem with vampires is that they don’t need to breathe. But many still do. A habit which was hard to break. And the problem with breathing is…it gives away your position.

The light went out as the vampire dropped from the ceiling. I spun, opening fire with both my pistols. The flashes revealed a dark-skinned vamp with red eyes and a satisfied grin. He held two short assegais like daggers, aimed for my neck.

He missed, as my bullets found homes in his chest. He grunted as the silver rounds hissed in his chest and his feet hit the ground with a crunch and a thud. But that didn’t stop him. Before I could get a clean shot, he lashed out towards me in a blur, cutting a gash into my arm.

I fell backwards, landing on my back as I fired. He dodged one shot, but I heard more hisses as the next hit him.

He fell on me as I rolled, his assegai piercing the tiled floors. I stood, fired another shot and kicked out towards his other hand, deflecting the blow.

“Brett!” I yelled, warning him, before crying out in pain as an assegai cut a score across my thigh.

The vamp moved like a whirlwind, as I tried to keep pace, trying to get a shot off. But we were too close. And he was fast. Too fast!

He ploughed his shoulder into my chest, winding me and sending me into the wall.

I lay limp, as the vamp advanced. He licked the blade of his assegai with a long, serpentine tongue. I stayed still, just until he was in striking distance.

I pulled up my pistols, point-blank, and fired the rest of the magazines into his chest until I was rewarded with clicks. Smoke emanated from the holes, as the silver burnt him from within. He took a step back, gazed at the holes in his chest, and grinned.

I dropped my one pistol as I tried to load the other. His assegai flew into my hand, pinning it to my vest. Fortunately, the plate underneath stopped it from going any deeper.

“Finished, little Blood Hunter?” the vamp said in Zulu. He licked his lips, one final time, as a shimmering spear flew into his head, skewering it. He looked shocked, for just a second, then fell.

Themba stepped over the body of the vamp and pulled out the spear, before driving it into the vamp’s head again. He spat on the corpse.

“That’s for Transkei!”

Bongani crouched by my side. He held a vial of reddish liquid. The other Blood Hunter stood watch, another throwing assegai at the ready.

“Drink, brother.”

I did and felt the pain in my hand diminish. Bongani pulled out the assegai. It was still painful, but no blood poured from the wound.

“I hope that hand wasn’t important. Will take time to heal fully. But Silumko taught you that.”

He stood and offered me a hand, I accepted with my unwounded one.

“Thank you, brothers. Do you know what’s happening?”

Bongani nodded, then shook his head. He looked at Themba.

“The rioters lured the guards away from the tunnel, I suspect. Was good enough a distraction that the vamps could sneak right past.”

I frowned. If only Pranish had managed to ward the place a bit earlier!

Before I could say anything, gunfire erupted on this floor. From where I’d come.

Oh shit!

“Brett!” I exclaimed and broke off into a run.

The Blood Hunters and Themba followed. I reached for a magazine as I ran but found none. Keeping pace, Bongani offered me an assegai. I accepted, just as we rounded the corner.

Krieg lay in a heap, dead vampires surrounding him. He had a trail of blood behind him. I didn’t stop to see if he was okay. I tore into Kat’s room.

Brett stood above Kat, shielding her with his body as a vampire crunched its mouth onto his bloodied, raw arm. He held another by its throat, as it raked his side with its claws.

I ducked, letting the Blood Hunters throw a spear over my head. It skewered the vampire, sending it reeling to the floor and releasing Brett’s arm.

Even bloodied and chewed, Brett brought his free arm over the other vamp’s head as he pulled it into a chokehold. It scored major gashes into his arms as it raked him with its claws.

I leapt on the creature. It looked more like a bat-thing than a man. Not the type of vamp the Izingane Zegazi let the public see often.

The creature lashed at me, letting out a warbling growl as Brett tightened his grip. Bongani charged, driving a spear into the creature’s gut. Before he could twist the shaft, claws burst out of the creature’s boots, raking Bongani across the face.

He cried out, releasing the spear shaft. I grabbed on, wrenching it to the side and pulling out flesh and translucent blood.

The creature strained against Brett, as Themba and I danced around it, slashing and stabbing with our weapons.

Shouting and gunfire awoke within the building. I wasn’t sure if anyone would be able to come up to us in time. So, we had to do this on our own.

I jumped forward, coaxing an attack from the creature, as Themba attacked from the other side. Its eyes darted between us, as it deflected both of our attacks, before a deafening crunch made it go limp.

Brett released the corpse, letting it fall onto the floor. Blood poured from his arms. They’d been lacerated to smithereens. I could see bone. How was he still standing? The Corps made them tough!

The other Blood Hunter offered him a swig of medicine. Brett complied just as dark figures smashed through the windows.

I brought up my assegai in time to deflect a blow from a shadowy blade. A hazy, vampiric visage flashed a fang from within its dark miasma, before kicking me in the leg. I let myself fall, before catching myself and tackling him in his midsection. He dropped his shadow illusion as I drove my assegai into his chest, again and again.

Another vamp pulled me off his unmoving comrade, just as Brett punched it in the face with his destroyed, but still somehow functional, arm.

He helped me up from the vampire corpse, gritting his teeth, as more vamps poured into the room. Bongani, still rubbing blood from his eyes, cried out as he fell. Themba lashed out at them, crying out: “Transkei!”

I charged into the fray, Brett at my back. We fought hand to hand. Club, assegai, blade, shadowy sword. Or just our fists. Even if I had had ammo, we wouldn’t have been able to fire anything in these close confines. Kat’s bed was jostled as we stood between her and the vamps, our wounds going numb and our hearts aching from the exertion.

It all seemed a moment and yet a lifetime. Claws raked across my back. I drove a blunted, shattered assegai into a vampire’s skull. Brett held off vamp upon vamp, destroying them with what seemed to be rage and sheer determination only.

Somehow, we managed to thin the vampire’s ranks. Hope rose from within and, with renewed vigour, I drew my weapon from its corpse-sheathe and held the line.

Until, a vamp broke through, lunging towards Kat with his shadowy blades. He was fast. Too fast. Bongani lashed out at him. Missed. I tried to tackle him. Too late. He blurred past me, weapons aimed at the Last Light…

Brett cried out, and dove not towards the vamp, but to cover Kat with his body. Everything went silent within my head as the blades skewered my brother. He exhaled, and then went still.

Time slowed, as something built up within me.  rage. A hate.First, a wordless feeling that I couldn’t describe. But then it heated up, as I felt a desperate rage consume me.

The sound returned like a sonic boom. Despite all my pain and fatigue, I charged the vamp with a bestial roar. I grabbed his arm and snapped it. He dropped his blade and howled in pain. I caught the hilt and drove the blade into his head, just as another vamp lunged towards me.

Before I could pull out the blade, its previous owner grabbed my wrist, and grinned, blood covering a maw of only fangs.

Themba tackled the lunging vamp to the ground but, before he could drive his assegai into the creature, it kicked him away with the force of a horse, sending him reeling into the wall. He coughed blood and went limp.

I strained against the vamp’s grip, as its comrade stood. But it was no use. The vamp who’d annihilated my cousin advanced like a predator, licking its lips. No one else was here to stop them. They could enjoy me…

Golden light incinerated both vamps and those surrounding Bongani. They cried out, attempting to flee, as Cindy held her glowing hands aloft, circles of power surrounding her as her eyes glowed with holy fire. The vampires screamed at the sight, covering their eyes as their blood boiled and peeled off. Cindy released her spark, exposing the goodness within her to these creatures of malice. It was purification in its essential form. And it was beautiful. She was beautiful!

I let go of the vamp’s blade as Cindy ended her spell. I tried to smile, but the pain stopped me from doing anything. I limped forward, then fell. She caught me, her hands glowing and warming me up as she muttered assurances and pleas.

I brought up my wounded hand, and stroked her cheek, leaving a smattering of blood, as tears cascaded onto my face.

“I’m…not going anywhere, Cins…”

She smiled, despite her tears, and then looked up at Brett.

“Is he…is he dead?” I asked, the words making me feel sick.

Her eyes flashed. “No, but he will be if I don’t help him.”

With my major wounds healed, I helped move Brett onto the floor. I couldn’t help but wince, as panic set in. I trusted Cindy, but I couldn’t see how my brother could be saved from this.

“Go help the others,” my wife said, as she started incanting. I saw the concern in her eyes. Not for Brett. But for me. She knew me better than anyone. And she knew that I was holding on by a thread.

I turned to find the Blood Hunter helping Bongani. They both looked spent, but alive. That left my cousin…

I peered into the darkness, towards his huddled body, as the floor underneath him crumbled. I almost fell, just as I caught onto a chair, that then fell anyway. I caught myself before colliding with the vibrating ground. I looked up. Bongani and the Blood Hunter steadied themselves, moving towards me. The building shook, as the ceiling was ripped away from over us. Cindy did not stop her incanting, even as the sky was exposed above us, writhing in purple and dark fog.

But that was not what caught my eye. Flying high above us, standing on top of a pyre of dark, pulsing energy, was a man wearing the red coat of an Izingane Zegazi. And on his head, he wore a crown of teeth.

Nkosiyabo. The King of Blood.

Chapter 22.    The Blood Remembers

Despite all my pain, exhaustion and terror, I pulled myself to the edge of the now exposed hospital room. Fires lit up the night sky, even as an unnatural murkiness began to infuse the world. As if the black pillar, like a pyre of darkness, was sapping all the light from around it.

I looked over the lip of what was once the window pane. Holdouts of Crusaders fought with the vampiric assassins. Kyong defended a group of purifiers and police, but even he was flagging. The vamps were masters of shadow and darkness. And Kyong couldn’t destroy what he couldn’t see.

Even the usually reassuring howls of Trudie’s pack were muffled by the evil resonance of the dark pyre.

A hundred thoughts went through my mind. My wife, Brett, my cousin, Kat…but they all ended as a voice entered my head.

It dripped of power. A dark, primordial power. It was like listening to the wind. No, not the wind. The wind held no malice. The wind could not be evil.

But this, this was evil. This was destruction for its own sake. Consumption for its own sake. Darkness, never ceasing.

The voice spoke within our minds, and I saw from the faces of even my wife, shocked from her spell, that we could all hear it.

Nkosiyabo spoke, and the world listened.

“Cattle are not meant to slay their keepers. It is the place of animals to exist for their betters. It is the place of livestock to be consumed. To die gracefully. To be sustenance for…us.”

I couldn’t move. None of us could. As he paused, vibrations went through our bodies.

“But you are not cattle. You are less than cattle! You are insects on MY world. Ants on this rotting carcass that I am trying to tame for my kind. When I was forced here, all I had were my brothers. We made a life here! And you took that from me, Blood Hunter! You took my brothers. You took the only things on this carcass that I cared about.”

Dark lightning flashed, bathing the ruins of the enflamed hospital in a crimson hue.

“I will never forget what you took from me. The Blood remembers. Always.”

The presence of the vampire lord in our heads disappeared, replaced by the renewed sounds of screams and combat.

I looked at Cindy. I saw worry in her eyes, just before she returned to healing my friend.

“What do we do, Guy?” Bongani asked, holding a broken spear in his hands. Its silver blade was covered in red.

I looked to where Themba had been flung. I couldn’t contemplate his fate. Not now. Not yet. Mourning was a luxury for the survivors. I turned back to Cindy and the Blood Hunters.

“We protect the Last Light.”

That is all I could think that we could do.

Kat had left me in charge. And perhaps, in better times, I could lead these people. But this wasn’t better times. This was the apocalypse. I was just a man.

And I needed a hero.

A car exploded as a bolt of dark energy from Nkosiyabo’s pyre skewered it. Fighting continued inside the hospital. Below us. But not much. There were more screams than gunfire.

Was this the end?

My body would have been on fire if it wasn’t so numb. I shook, but I wasn’t cold. My knees buckled, but I stood.

I looked up towards the darkening sky. I felt the presence of dark creatures rushing towards us. Like we were a beacon. And we were. A last-ditch effort to stop the darkness.

I laughed. What else had changed?

Bongani handed me an assegai, bent, buckled and covered in blood. A dark fog, writhing with malicious intent, floated into the room. It came from below, scaling the walls and crossing through the shattered windows. And it seeped through the doorway from the hall beyond.

The Blood Hunters and I encircled Kat, Cindy and Brett. We held our weapons ready, as figures emerged from the fog. Some pale as snow. Others dark as coal. Some with scales and rockhard hide. They had wings, and horns, claws and scythe-like arms. All had red eyes, and sharp fangs, dripping with the blood of our comrades.

I had seen and killed many types of vampires in my time. And I saw most of them here. Alps, garkains, nosfaratus and draculs. And more. Many more. Vampire mutation sometimes followed trends. But, for every rule, there was an exception. And the Izingane Zegazi had finally revealed their full menagerie.

We three Blood Hunters never expected to survive. It was the way of the world that we would die to fight the Blood.

I didn’t want that. I didn’t want to die.  I wanted to wake up to the face of my wife. I wanted to drink with my friends and speak of good times. I wanted to build a home. I wanted to meet my children…

I wanted to live.

But the world didn’t care about that. And I had to do the right thing.

I tightened my grip on my crippled weapon. It was broken. Just like me. But we were still useful.

As one, we charged the beasts, cutting into them as they cut into us. I planted my assegai into the eye of an alp, tearing out its eye as I pulled my blade back to thrust into another vamp. The creature deflected my blow and kicked me backwards, prone alongside my friend and my wife.

Cindy clenched her fists and stopped her incantation.

“That will hold…” she whispered. “It has to.”

Bongani and the other Blood Hunter were shoved back. It seemed the vamps wanted fresh blood.

Cindy stood above us. Poised. Calm. At least, on the outside. But I knew her. Probably better than anyone but herself.

She was afraid.

I used the hospital bed to pull myself up, as I stood by my wife’s side. I reached for her hand and squeezed. Tears fell from her eyes, as she smiled at me. I smiled back, weakly, as the vampires advanced.

My wife turned to the vampiric horde, and they stopped.

“My name is Cindy Giles-Mgebe, Purifier-Paladin of Heiligeslicht, Apprentice to the Seraphim Zephon. I have held the gates of my world closed to Satan himself. I have banished dark gods and archdemons. I have made evil regret its very existence. Do you think you can harm me?”

The vampires froze. Hesitated. But then grinned. They laughed, as if they had almost fallen for a prank, and then stepped over the threshold.

Cindy didn’t need to incant this. She knew this spell well. For it wasn’t a spell in the way I understood it. It was her. Her essence. Her spark, unrefined and glorious.

Looking at her, it was as if staring into the sun, but I couldn’t look away. The vampires screamed and crackled. I smelled the sickly-sweet scent of burning vampire flesh. I had once revelled in it. But now, it was just a relief.

Cindy released her barrage of golden energy like a tidal wave, but it began to ebb, leaving ashes and bones in its wake.

The light faded, and she buckled over, retching and coughing. I held her close. She’d pushed herself to her limit. And dozens of vampires were incinerated for it. But the fog didn’t lift. More figures emerged from the darkness.

Cindy tried to stand, but fell, tears falling from her eyes.

“I have to…” she pleaded with herself.

But she couldn’t.

Bongani and the Blood Hunter, bloodied and bruised, held their weapons ready as the vampires encircled us. Cindy tried to stand again. I kissed her. She stopped, and I looked into her eyes.

“I love you,” I said, simply, and then stood to face the beasts.

I had no weapon in my hand. Just my body. Perhaps, the way it was meant to be.

I was a man, ready to die for those he loved.

Perhaps, at the end of the world, that’s all that mattered.

A garkain, with thick grey hide and closed batwings, stepped forward, its clawed foot crushing the bones of its comrades as it approached. I entered a boxer’s stance.

Then, a hand burst through the garkain’s chest. The creature looked down at its still beating heart. As if it couldn’t believe its red, slitted eyes. As suddenly as it had been attacked, it burst into flames. The Children of Blood began to panic, turning towards the dark fog as they burst into flames. A blade shone in the darkness, taking off a vamp’s head. It landed at my feet, then burst into flames.

Only three things could set alight a vampire like this. The sun, purification energy…and the fatal attack of another vampire.

Vampires wearing business suits with red ties emerged from the dark fog. Without breaking a sweat, they plunged their fists into the chests of the bestial vampires or cut into them with blades.

I recognised one from the manor. He caught my eye and nodded, respectfully, before grabbing a dracul and plunging his teeth into its neck, feeding from his distant blood-cousin.

The rapidly darkening sky went red above our heads, clashing with the dark pyre. The Sanguineas vamps ended their onslaught. The one I knew pointed behind us, as a blood-red pillar, almost an imitation of the dark pyre, sprung from the earth. On top of it, a woman wearing a blood red dress, sat on a throne of blood.

“You think you are superior, king of beastly things?” Victoria boomed, sounding scathing and scolding as the towering pyres clashed against the darkness. “But kings don’t hide in the dark. We aren’t kings. We are parasites, feeding off the world. We are monsters. Predators. And you are hunting on our turf!”

Victoria charged, the pyre of red surging across the ground, crushing corpses and wrecked vehicles underneath. Nkosiyabo met her force, stopping her in her tracks. Lightning struck and the winds howled as they struck at each other. With each blow, came a sonic boom. I heard werewolves howl in pain. The darkness, the red and the shadows twisted. Human and vampire watched the battle, in horror and awe.

Victoria manifested a scythe of ruby red fire and sliced into the dark pyre. It cut the essence to ribbons, as Nkosiyabo formed tendrils that darted towards Victoria’s form. She brought up a shield. As the tendrils hit the shield, a shockwave shattered the remaining glass. Bongani lost his footing and fell, as a Sanguineas vampire caught him and put him back on his feet.

This wasn’t just a duel between vampires. This was a battle of gods.

I suddenly felt my fatigue and pain catching up with me, as my knees buckled. Cindy, still recovering from burning out her spark, caught me.

I looked into her eyes as she grimaced. We both knew this was no longer our fight. We just had to make sure we weren’t caught in the middle.

We still had our mission, however. I stood with a lot of effort and concern from Cindy and addressed the Blood Hunters.

“We need to find my cousin…and make sure Brett and Kat are okay,” I ordered, struggling to catch my breath.

“Guy,” Cindy said, disbelief in her voice. I looked at her again, and then to where she pointed. Kat’s bed.

But Kat and her coat were gone.

***KAT***

Thousands of souls had perished here, among the shifting black dunes of the final stand of the living of Avathor. I had been here before. With Treth to guide me. Among the rolling dunes of blackened sands were countless skeletons, holding the line in their eternal formations against a host that had finally only fallen at Ithalen.

It had taken Treth and me days, if not weeks, to trek from Ithalen to these wastes. But, in this dream, if it really was a dream, I crossed into it as if going from one room to the other.

I remembered this place. All too well. It had never been as important to me as Ithalen. But it was important, nonetheless. This had been the field where Treth died. And the field where we’d almost brought him back to life. Properly, and not as an undead.

Thoughts of my ghostly companion gave me pause, as I pondered the decaying banners and rusted weapons of this ancient battlefield, stuck forever in time.

I missed him. I didn’t know how long I had been in this dream. But it was too long without him speaking to me. He was more than my friend. He was a part of me. And while Valour and Ariel had become a part of the Vessel, and a part of my soul, Treth was my soul.

I scaled the sheer embankments, grabbing onto spears protruding from underneath the earth to pull myself up.

A sense of foreboding struck me as I approached the top. There, I’d find an altar. A black altar surrounded by pillars. The same altar that had been used to slay Gorgo and Treth. The same altar that had sent my friend spiralling through the In Between, to find me.

And the same altar where I had been willing to sacrifice everything to save my friend.

I stopped before the precipice and took a breath. I wished Treth was here. He always knew what to say, when it really mattered.

But I had to be strong. Whatever this dream, vision or spiritual journey was trying to show me, was up here, where I had truly come to embrace the Vessel.

I pulled myself above the sand bank, half expecting to find a Lich, dark spirit or even Treth. Instead, I gasped. Not in fright or horror. But in excited surprise. A lady with silver hair with streaks of blue, pointed ears and a dress that held the cosmos, stood by the altar. She smiled, reassuringly at my approach.

“Hello, Kat,” Allandrea said, soothingly. I awoke from my shock and ran towards her, embracing the queen of the Sintari as I would my mother.

“I thought you were gone forever!” I exclaimed.

“No one is ever truly gone, Kat. Everyone leaves something behind. Memories are powerful. And they let the dead live forever.”

She smiled, as she rubbed my cheek.

“I was never gone, Kat. I’ve always been here.”

I held her hand, and let tears fall freely. I had known Allandrea for too short a time. But no time with her would have been enough. In a way, she had come to be the mother I had lost. Until I lost her again. But I knew she had never truly left. I had felt her, again and again, inside the Vessel.

I sniffed, and then released the elf queen, staring out across the wastes.

“I don’t understand this, Allandrea,” I said. “What am I doing here?”

“You are asleep. Not in your bed. A dark poison has sent you within yourself. A unified, singular soul would have been annihilated, even from the In Between. But you are special. It only sent the fragments of your soul that are still yours into the Vessel, which is connected to you but still apart.”

“Wait…it can destroy a soul? Treth!”

Allandrea reached out and touched my hand, soothingly. “Your companion is safe. He also resides within the Vessel. No curse or spell can harm us here. I suspect, that when you finally do die as all beings will, you may come to join us here, among all those you have touched.”

I raised my eyebrow at that. “So, there is an afterlife?”

“I do not know, Kat. But for you, I think so. And definitely for us. The Vessel is your Valhalla. Your Elysium.”

“So…when I call upon the Army of the Vessel, I’m awaking souls from their rest?”

“They awake willingly. No one resides in the Vessel if they did not believe in you, Kat. They will die all over again if that’s what it takes.”

“But it isn’t right.” I shook my head. “They deserve to rest.”

“Perhaps, they do. But we also deserve to be heroes once again, do we not?”

I did not want to rely on the Army of the Vessel. Cindy and Treth suspected that its use risked damaging the spirits connection to the In Between. That it stripped away their essence. I didn’t want that. Not for my friends.

But what if I needed them again? If another dark god came to threaten the world? If Thor called on me to finally face the Conclave and their shadow realm within the 6th Convent?

“What should I do?” I asked, simply, feeling like a child.

The elf queen smiled. “You know the answer to that already. You have lived it. Even when you don’t know the answer well enough to speak it, your actions say otherwise. They speak for you.”

I grimaced. “That’s pretty abstract, Allandrea.”

She laughed. “You don’t become an eternal elvish mystic by being specific.”

I smiled and felt a weight lift from me.

“Thank you…for helping me all this time.”

“I haven’t done a thing you couldn’t do yourself.”

I frowned. “I’d be nothing without you, or Treth, or the Vessel. I’m just a mutant. A science experiment by an evil man. I didn’t earn this power. It was thrust upon me.”

“You’re wrong, Kat.” Her smile disappeared, as she stared into my eyes. I could not sense a lie within her starry gaze. “You have struggled and sacrificed. A thousand times. And that has earned you this power. But more than that. Your deeds have nothing to do with the Vessel. You have saved people. You have conquered evil. You’re a hero. You may not have chosen to be the Vessel, but you did choose to be the Last Light.”

I heard a faint whisper in my ear, calling out to me.

Allandrea backed away, still holding my hand, as she smiled.

In the distance, I heard combat. Shouting. Gunfire. Someone calling my name.

“It is time to go, Kat. Back to your realm. There are monsters to fight.”

“Thank you…” I called, as the world was engulfed by the void of sleep. I fell into nothingness and closed my eyes.

The mayhem of battle surrounded me. And through it, I heard voices calling my name.

And a single voice broke through.

I opened my eyes and saw Treth’s hand peeking through the blackness. He called my name. Again, and again. His voice hoarse from an eternity of yelling. He had never given up on me.

“I’m here, Treth.”

I grabbed his hand and entered the light.

***GUY***

There was no more gunfire. No more clattering of steel. The wolf howls had gone silent. The screams had ceased. There was only the primal boom of two vampiric forces striking at one another.

I signalled Cindy and the Blood Hunters to stop behind me. Bongani carried Brett over his shoulders. I had found a rifle, clasped by a dead Crusader. He’d died quickly. Not had enough time to fire all his rounds.

We had descended into the dark hospital. The Sanguineas vamps had disappeared, wordlessly. They searched for enemies. For vampiric prey. At least, I hoped so. But if they meant us harm, they would have attacked us. We couldn’t really defend ourselves. And Victoria now wrestled with possibly the most powerful vampire I have ever seen.

We’d be dead without them. I felt somewhat vindicated. If it wasn’t for Kat now being missing, and all the men I’d lost, I might even be gloating.

I took position by a door on the second floor. We could only see the blood-stained walls and previous white door due to the red hue of the sky, peeking through cracks in the structure.

With one hand, I reached for the wet, bloodied doorknob. I opened it and poked my barrel through the door.

A figure jumped, and a muzzle-flash lit up the room, hitting the top of the doorway and ricocheting harmlessly into another wall.

“Henri! Hold your fucking fire,” Krieg wheezed, before coughing. Nastily.

“Jammer,” Henri replied, bashfully, but sounding healthy.

“Guy? Cindy?” Heather called. “Is that you?”

Cindy passed me and embraced the lanky Heather.

Kyong stood, clutching a bloody cut in his side. He grinned at me and offered his other hand. I clutched it.

“I could have taken down the king himself if my blasted spark hadn’t run out.”

I doubted that but nodded at the Tiger Fist.

“How did you get out?” I asked.

Kyong looked at Heather. As if for permission. She nodded.

“Jane said that there was trouble. That the Crusaders were in danger. She used her connections to do a jailbreak.”

“Kyong…” Cindy started, despairing. He held his hand up to halt her.

“I know the consequences, Cins. And I’ll live with them. This is my family. I’ll die for it.”

He grinned. “Besides, being an outlaw is kinda fun.”

Krieg wheezed as he sat up against the wall, underneath a shattered window. Beside him lay a bandaged Themba.

As Bongani placed Brett on the ground, I fell to my knees beside my cousin. I listened to his chest, and then felt for a pulse. Nothing, nothing…and then I calmed. I felt the throbbing vibrations of life. My cousin lived. I could cry!

“He’s alive,” Krieg wheezed. He had a dark bruise just below his neck. Possibly over his whole chest.

“What happened?” I asked.

“They ambushed me. Knocked me senseless. I awoke and pulled myself down here. I found him in a pile of rubble. Managed to…care for him…”

Krieg started coughing, spattering a bit of blood onto his fist.

Cindy noticed and moved towards him; her eyes concerned at seeing anyone in pain. But she stopped. Her spark was exhausted.

“I’ll…be fine.” Krieg looked at Brett. “Will he be okay?”

I looked at Cindy. She nodded.

Krieg smiled, weakly. “The Corps will survive.”

A louder boom than the usual chorus sent a quake through the building. The group stayed silent, waiting for the vibrations to end.

Henri stood, and peeked out the door. At least one of us still had bullets and the energy to use them.

“All clear,” he announced, just as the windowpane above Krieg was ripped apart. Garkains rushed into the gap. Not from hunger, but fear. One of them wasn’t fast enough, and the red and dark pyres consumed it.

Krieg ducked under the panicked garkains, as Bongani tried to stab through their rockhard hide.

Henri fired at point-blank range. The bullet made sparks on the vamp’s hide, before it grabbed the barrel of his rifle and bent it backwards.

I aimed my rifle, impotently, and fired. Again, and again. To no avail, as dark figures blurred into the room.

Krieg, even while groggy and at death’s door, recoiled as the Sanguineas vamps tackled the garkains, and snapped their necks.

The fight ended, as three Sanguineas vamps, the one I knew among them, stood among us.

One of the vamps looked at me.

“There is no sign of your commander. Not in this world, at least.”

I sighed. Part of me wanted to panic. Kat was gone! Brett would never forgive me. I would never forgive myself. But the other part couldn’t give in to alarm. I had people to look after. For now. And something told me that Kat would still pitch up. Near the end. She had a habit of doing that.

The Sanguineas vamps turned towards the torn-out hole in the wall, to watch the fight between the vampiric gods. Silently. Krieg slunk into a corner. Too weak to fight. Too healthy to accept what was before him.

Victoria’s pyre had shrunk. Her attacks were vicious. Clinical. But every single time she failed to block or dodge a blow, her power wilted.

Perhaps, Victoria was wrong. She wasn’t a monster. She was Earth-born, like us. Unable to truly fight a horror such as this.

“She can’t win,” I whispered. “She’s not a true vampire.”

The Sanguineas vampire looked at me. I only glanced at him. His eyes were red, like so many other vampires. But there was something there I had never contemplated in their kind before. Humanity.

“She isn’t a true vampire,” he said. “None of us is. Because true vampires aren’t from this world. They have never been human. We have. And we know that this is our home.”

He looked at Victoria, as she clashed against the primordial terror. Unyielding. Unflinching. After every blow she took, she delivered another, snapping at the inevitable.

“This is her home, hunter. And that’s why she has to win.”

Nkosiyabo collected his dark energy into a hammer-strike, lifting it above Victoria’s defences. She dodged to the side and, like a wolf taking down a deer, lashed out at Nkosiyabo’s neck with a red-shadowy maw. A deep scream echoed across the land.

The Sanguineas vamps stepped forward. Eager. As if watching a sports match where their team was about to score.

“You can do it, boss…”

Victoria followed through with a mass of writhing tendrils. They snaked their way around Nkosiyabo’s pyre, and stabbed inwards. Another pained howl sounded, digging into my skull.

I couldn’t believe it…

Victoria let the pyre collapse, as Nkosiyabo fell towards the ground.

The vamps beamed. Victoria reared upward, forming a red spear to finish off her foe.

Then she was knocked off her throne. The red pyre dissipated, as she plummeted to the ground. A new, dark pyre formed. Larger than the previous. Titanic!

“You are a pretender, impure filth. You consume your kin. You consumed your sire! It is only right you try to save insects. You are less than them!” Nkosiyabo boomed.

His pyre kept rising, as Victoria lay across the ground, splayed. The Sanguineas vamps covered their mouths, too shocked to react or speak.

Victoria tried to raise her hand to block the power coalescing above her. Even from here, I could see she was near to breaking point. The façade of the perfect vampire queen had collapsed. She was not a monster anymore. Just a woman, about to be crushed by the darkness.

Nkosiyabo lifted a hammer of pure darkness and vampiric energy, and then brought it down upon the vampire queen.

I recoiled, covering my closed eyes, as debris and air rushed towards us. I held on to the lip of the broken wall, as Henri and Kyong were bowled over. Heather dug her blade into the ground, holding herself steady.

When the shockwave ended, I opened my eyes, expecting the Sanguineas vamps to have turned to ash, as Ukwesaba’s retinue had. But they were still standing, fanged mouths agape, looking at the ground where Victoria had lain.

“KAT!” Brett yelled, suddenly waking, and looking around hastily in a raw panic.

“It can’t be…” the vampire muttered.

Cindy nodded towards something I couldn’t see and smiled.

“Treth is back,” she said, and stood by me at the window. “And so is she.”

The darkness above Victoria writhed, and then moved. Below it, she lay. Alive. And even from here, I could see the shock on her face. It mirrored what was on ours.

For, hovering above her, with wings of splendid flame, Kat stood defiant against the dark titan before her.

As her light entered the world, the unnatural darkness began to abate. The stars began to shine, revealing the rest of the Izingane Zegazi in their hiding places.

I turned to the others, cocking my rifle.

“Our Last Light is back,” I announced, tears welling up in my eyes. “And there’re still monsters to slay!”

With a determined cry, led by Heather and Brett, those who could surged from the hospital, among many other purifiers and Crusaders who still lived. And we cut into the vampiric hordes, as our angel flew high above us, ready to slay another god.

Chapter 23.    Retribution

***KAT***

The blackness turned into a red-hued world of fire and blood. Corpses lay all around a ruined structure, surrounded by spent shells and flames. Unnatural storms quaked around us.

Seems I’d missed a lot.

I felt Treth’s presence within me. I held onto him. Cherished him.

“Welcome back, Kat.” I felt his smile, and the tears he’d spent for me.

“I missed you, Treth.”

“Likewise, but it seems sentimentality will have to wait.”

Treth pulled my attention towards a pillar, like a burning conflagration, of dark energy. It pulsated with darkness. Like a writhing shadow creature. Atop it was a vampire. I immediately knew who it was. He made it quite easy. Wearing that crown of teeth and all. Nkosiyabo.

Which meant that Ukwesaba had been killed. I’d left the Crusaders in good hands!

The dark pyre was growing, gathering in energy, as a pale woman in a red dress lay at its feet. The King of Blood was readying an attack. A finishing blow.

I didn’t exactly know what was going on, but I did know a simple rule: an enemy of my enemy is my friend. At least for now.

“Are you ready, Treth?” I asked, letting him drop Ithalen into my hand.

“Are you, Kat?” Ariel spoke into my mind.

I smiled, as my coat sparked to life. It had been bored without me. And it was hungry for some action.

“Always,” Treth and I said. I felt fire burst from my back, forming wings of flame.

In a flash, I rushed above the fallen woman…vampire…and held up Ithalen. The darkness fell, like a collapsing skyscraper. But Allandrea and Ariel spoke to me. Fed me. And I even heard a bark during the chorus.

They were with me. They all were.

The pyre fell on my blade and I felt the shockwave resonate through me. Glass smashed and the concrete below my feet shattered.

But I wasn’t feeling exactly normal at the moment. In fact, I felt positively exhilarated. No more fatigue. No more doubt. Perhaps, I’d just needed a nice long nap.

The dark force hesitated and retreated. I landed on the ground, as I heard a rallying cry from inside the ruined building. Crusaders and Heiligeslicht purifiers poured out of the building, fighting toe to toe with vampiric beasts.

I landed, realising I had been hovering, and offered my hand to the vampire woman on the ground. She blinked at me in surprise, and then accepted.

“So, are we on the same side?” I asked.

“Seems that way,” she replied.

“And you are?”

She looked surprised that I needed to ask.

“Victoria Kruger.”

I laughed. “It seems they’ve been busy while I’ve been away.”

Victoria’s surprise turned to humour, as she smiled with me, exposing a pair of fangs. But the crackle of dark energy interrupted our levity, as the pyre pulsed and formed into tendrils of darkness.

“You okay to fight?” I asked.

Victoria opened her hands and let red smoky energy fall and coalesce into a platform, and then a tower like the dark pyre itself.

“Are you?” she countered.

I grinned, clutched Ithalen, and shot up into the sky.

A tendril shot out towards me. I spun, feeling Ariel guide my flight. Treth called out, helping me dodge another attack, as Victoria formed her own tendrils to wrestle with the darkness.

Like the pixies would harry a human, I jinked hard and dove underneath Nkosiyabo’s defences, cutting into the darkness with Ithalen. It melted away at the blade’s touch.

I heard Nkosiyabo cry out in pain and frustration. Victoria smashed her red pyre into the darkness, using the openings I’d made to rush her power into it. Nkosiyabo strained at the assault and pushed her away.

The seismic wave that followed pushed me backwards. I flapped my wings hard, lest I be blown away. Victoria held onto her pyre, visibly straining and gritting her fanged teeth. I flew close to her.

“I never thought I’d fight side by side with a vampire,” I yelled over the cacophony of combat below us and the booming cries of Nkosiyabo.

Victoria grinned. “And I never thought I’d fight alongside an angel.”

“I’m not an angel,” I argued.

Victoria shrugged. “Close enough to one.”

A battering ram of dark energy almost knocked Victoria from her platform.

I rushed it, cutting deep into the darkness.

“Destroy the leader,” I heard Ariel tell me. Valour barked. “Cut off the head of the serpent.”

I dropped underneath the dark ram, using it as cover as I flanked behind the pyre, slicing bits of it out as Victoria renewed her assault.

At the base of the dark tower, purifiers shot their holy energy towards it. I saw Pranish among them. Trudie was trying to bite at the darkness.

The sight of my friends gave me an extra surge and, with it, a jet of fire courtesy of my coat, I shot up the side of the dark pyre, dodging tendrils and bolts of darkness. When I couldn’t dodge a tendril, I sliced it like I would a lunging snake, letting its shadowy energy dissipate into nothingness.

Like a rocket, I kept rising, and rising, until I came face to face with the vampire king. I stared into his red, soulless eyes, and charged.

Ithalen stopped short of his heart. I strained. Harder. Harder. But it was like trying to stab through solid metal. Nkosiyabo grabbed my blade, ignoring the silver entirely, and flung me to the earth.

I hit the ground hard, forming a dusty crater. Only my wings and a sphere of fire protected me.

Nkosiyabo’s voice boomed in my head.

“My people banished the Seraphim from our world. We expunged it of your unholy light. An endless night followed. And it will follow here, again. I will purge this world of the Seraphim, as I did on my world. Starting…with you.”

Well, lucky for me that I wasn’t Seraphim!

Victoria landed by my side, panting. I didn’t know vampires needed to pant! But it made her seem more human.

“It’s not enough, Last Light! He’ll just keep healing and rebuffing our attacks. And the sun won’t rise while he is here. We need something…”

She dodged as a spear of dark energy incinerated the spot where she’d been standing.

“Angel or not, we need your holy fury. Summon it up. Purify him!”

“I’m not an angel!” I argued, this time more desperately.

“I don’t care!” Victoria yelled back, jumping back onto her platform of red as the darkness came charging back towards us.

Treth manifested by my side.

“I’m not an angel, Treth,” I said. “I can’t do this.”

“You can,” Ariel and Allandrea said, at once. “We know what you must do.”

I looked up towards the dark tower, as Victoria continued to attack it. She knew she could never win. Perhaps, she’d always known. But she fought anyway.

Like me.

“And so do you,” Treth said, continuing from Allandrea and Ariel.

I felt a glow coming from within me. And that glow became a red-hot sensation of pure energy. On wings of flame, I ascended, speeding up towards Nkosiyabo.

“Take cover!” I yelled to Victoria, and all the other vampires on our side.

Victoria let herself drop and fell behind a shattered wall.

I smiled. I knew what I had to do.

Darkness assailed me. I did not dodge. I did not block. I just let it wash over me. It recoiled and dissipated at my touch. Nkosiyabo tried to increase his attacks. Striking at me as I sped towards him. Again, and again. And he weakened with every blow.

Until he knew what was coming next.

Nkosiyabo thought to smother the sun. To rid the world of light. An unending night…

What a joke!

Because, whatever darkness befell this world, I would always be there. To be the Last Light.

I broke past Nkosiyabo’s last defences. I saw fear in his red eyes, as he lost control of his magic. The dark pyre disappeared, and he began to plummet, as I flew to him, and held him close.

“I would forgive you, Nkosiyabo, but I know you don’t understand that. You can’t forgive. You can’t forget. The Blood remembers - but so do I.”

Nkosiyabo screamed, and that scream turned into a warble, and then silence as he was consumed by purifying flame.

Not even ash was left of him.

I stayed in the sky, as I gazed at the carnage below. The darkness was parting. The sun was rising.

The Izingane Zegazi who remained stared dumbstruck at the death of their king, as my comrades cut them down.

It was over.

Chapter 24.    Dawn

I landed softly on the shattered concrete. My flaming wings dissolved, turning into sparks that disappeared into the wind.

I was normal, once again. Well, kinda.

Crusaders, purifiers and vampires in business suits formed around me. Silent. Many mouths, fanged and not, hung agape. Many of these people had not been at the Battle a few weeks back. They had probably thought my last winged escapade had been a myth. Well, it took a while for myth to become fact, even after the Cataclysm.

I gazed across the motley array of faces around me and saw many I knew. Many were new. Mostly vampiric. Many more were missing.

But through the crowd, I saw the one face I cared about more than any other. Brett, bloodied, but alive. Trudie rushed to him, helping to carry him through the crowd. The throng of bloodied healers, fighters and vamps opened up, letting the cut-up werewolf and pale Crusader past. Worry stung my heart seeing him like this. Then guilt, that I couldn’t protect him. But most of all, relief, because he was still alive.

I embraced the love of my life. He winced.

“I think I may have gone a little overboard while you were gone,” he said.

I laughed and kissed him on the lips, not caring about the blood or grit. Gorgo analysed him through my eyes. She was as good as Cindy when it came to healing. She said he’d be fine. She’d patched up worse.

Two figures moved through the crowd. Cindy and Guy. Another weight was lifted as I saw my friends. Both were bloodied, bruised and bandaged. I released Brett and inclined my head towards them. Not yet smiling, as I didn’t know if it was appropriate.

Guy smiled and offered his hand. I smiled back and hugged him suddenly, and tightly.

“I hope things weren’t too tough in my absence.”

Surprisingly, he laughed.

“Please…” he said. “Don’t ever leave me in charge again.”

“He served with distinction,” Victoria said, suddenly. Some Crusaders gasped. Victoria stood, her wounds stitching up before our eyes, surrounded by her smartly dressed vamps. I hadn’t seen her arrive, and I doubted many others had as well. Trudie’s fur was on end, but she didn’t growl.

I also didn’t know what to make of Victoria Kruger. From what Brett had told me, and from what I had learnt myself, she was a queen of vampires. A demi-god among the blood drinkers. My enemy.

But she had helped me save this city, and my friends.

If people could be monsters, perhaps monsters could be people?

I turned to her and offered my hand. She considered the outstretched appendage. Treth was watching closely. He was still on edge. Watching for signs of hunger.

Slowly, subtly, she smiled and clasped my hand in hers. We shared a look. My blue and hazel eyes stared into her red ones. All her wounds had closed up. There were no signs of wear and tear. Even her clothes had stitched up. A seamless red dress. Right off the hanger.

I saw the devastation around the hospital and its surrounding area. The corpses, the craters, and the destroyed walls and roof. She had been a part of that. And faced with the power that had caused it.

And she didn’t even have a scratch.

She was powerful. I could see that. More powerful than almost anything I had faced before. But I also saw a flicker in her eyes.

She saw something in me. Something that made her maintain eye contact, not as a predator, but as an equal.

We nodded to each other in mutual respect and understanding, then she turned to Guy, who looked a bit taken aback.

Guy looked at his own hand, bandaged and seeping with blood. The fact that he was still standing was a testament to not just Cindy’s healing, but his own tenacity.

Victoria laughed. “I’m not hungry, Guy. And never for your blood. Unless you’re offering freely.”

She purred the last bit, and then went silent, as Cindy fixed her with a death glare. She gulped.

Seems that every monster feared something!

Guy seemed to come to some conclusion in his mind and he smiled as he accepted her hand in his. They shook, just as we had, as equals.

I looked at Brett, expecting rage, disappointment and conflict in his eyes. Instead, I saw acceptance. It seems both of them had reached an understanding with their past and moved on, in some way.

“Thank you…” I said, as they let go of each other’s hands. “I’m not sure exactly what happened, but I can see from this that without you, we wouldn’t have won. You have my gratitude.”

Victoria shrugged. “I’m a monster. But monsters are simple. We’ll do what it takes to survive. And we repay our debts. The Blood never forgets. And we’ll never forget that the Last Light did not only save humans when Loviatar and the Necro Lord tried to consume our city.”

She turned towards her men, and looked out towards the east, towards the rapidly lightening sky.

“It’s about time we take our role as the vampires of Hope City more seriously. The Empire has their own monstrous lapdogs…it’s only fair that Hope City has theirs. And I’m sure that the surviving Izingane Zegazi will be even angrier without their lords holding their leashes.”

She breathed deeply, closing her eyes. As if smelling the scent of a new day. A new life.

“I hear the Three Point Line is lovely this time of year. It may be just the place for a new beginning…”

A piece of rubble collided with her face, leaving not even a scratch or heralding a reaction as it bounced off her cheek and landed on the ground.

“Monster!” I heard a wheezed yell. Krieg forced his way through the crowd, clutching a silver dagger.

Brett and Guy dove in his way. He didn’t see them coming, his eyes fixed on Victoria. They tackled him to the ground, struggling with their wounds even as Krieg was bleeding from his.

Victoria held her hand up, halting her vampires from intervening.

Tears fell from Krieg’s maddened eyes, as he swiped the dagger impotently towards the calm vampire queen. Brett and Guy grunted after every strike as Krieg tried to break free.

“You took everything from me!” Krieg half-yelled, half-screamed “You left me alone without them. You killed everything I loved.”

Victoria looked at me, and then Guy. She nodded.

“Let him go. This is only right. He deserves his revenge.”

Guy and Brett, almost disbelieving, let go of the mad Corpsman. Krieg tore towards Victoria, as she stood completely still. He stopped short of her and plunged the dagger into her gut. Smoke rose from the wound. He pulled the dagger back and plunged it into her chest. Still, she didn’t move. He sliced at her neck, her head, her breast, her gut. Again, and again, and again. We all watched in silent horror, as every wound he dealt stitched up, and Victoria looked at him impassively, as he screamed, sobbed and wailed.

Finally, he fell to his knees, letting the dagger drop uselessly to the ground.

Victoria straightened her dress, still without a scratch, and knelt down to look into Krieg’s eyes.

“If I could die, Corpsman, I would have. I am a monster that goes away when you close your eyes at night. You can forget about me, in time. And you can move on. But I can’t do that. I can’t escape what I am. But you can. Go home. Killing me won’t bring them back.”

Krieg stared, silent, before collapsing into a heap on the floor. Brett rushed to his side, holding his comrade as no one else could. For as much as I feared and hated what the Corps had done to my love, I could not deny him it. It had brought him solace during loss. And it was as much a part of him as Treth was of me.

“You should go,” I warned Victoria. “The sun is rising.”

But there was no need to warn them. They were already gone.

Even though I had accepted them as allies (at least of convenience), I couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief now that they were gone.

Krieg sobbed, softly, as an injured Brett cradled him. I turned to Cindy. She had bags upon bags under her eyes. Burned out her spark. She did that too often. Wasn’t healthy. Could lose your spark that way. Permanently.

“Cins…you are not to cast any more magic until you have an uninterrupted eight hours of sleep,” I ordered.

She displayed shock and looked about to argue.

“Make that twelve hours! That’s an order. Right, Guy?”

He looked between me and Cindy, deciding who to displease. But concern overwhelmed prudence.

“Rest, my love,” he said, quietly. Cindy glared, but that glare turned to a frown, and then the exhausted stare of someone who had finally reached their end. She wilted, and let Guy lead her away.

All around me, the crowd of onlookers had dispersed. The novelty of my angel wings and the vampires was gone. Now was the pathetic grey epilogue of a battle. The time that stories skip over. No more adrenaline pumping to carry you onward. No more threat of death to drive you.

Just stillness, and the residue of the shock that so many had died.

There was never any relief from war. Never really an end. Because Victoria was right. Nothing would ever bring them back.

The morose and quiet activity of collecting bodies, checking on the wounded and resting our weary, bloodied bones, was suddenly broken by the obnoxious blaring of sirens.

Oh yeah, I still had a warrant out for my arrest…

The hospital wall and fence, flattened during the battle, was pressed even further into the torn up soil and dirt as police cars and white armoured carriers surged into the wrecked expanse that had once been a place of healing.

Shocked. Wounded. Exhausted. Crusaders and purifiers drew weapons and readied spells, facing the vehicles as they circled us, like sharks. The cacophony of sirens and engines was joined by the yelling of orders as the carriers stopped and Whiteshield mercs poured out of the backs, forming shield walls. And aimed their machine-guns at us.

All the vehicles eventually pulled to a halt, forming an armoured circle around us. Police joined the Whiteshield lines. I saw pale faces. Shivering. Doubtful.

I had respect for some police. Those police were now dead or fired. These were the leftovers. The type who just followed orders.

“Kat Drummond, Brett Callahan, Kyong Man…among others. You are under arrest. Anyone who stands in our way will be considered complicit and be dealt with,” a policeman, much more certain and angrier than the previous one, boomed through a megaphone.

He didn’t add “to the fullest extent of the law” to the sentence. He meant dealt with, as in the way I do it.

It seemed Riaan was not playing nicely anymore.

I could fight them. I knew I could. The army of the Vessel told me I could. I hadn’t been crushed like my comrades. I was fresh. Well-rested. Powerful. I could form Ariel’s wings again, incant Gorgo’s healing magic to keep myself alive, and cut into all of them. I wouldn’t even feel too bad about it. They had chosen this path. I had chosen mine.

I could win.

But I wouldn’t be able to save my friends.

Not even I could outrun or outfly bullets. The Crusaders and the purifiers would be gunned down. Annihilated. Brett, looking up with fear and sadness in his eyes, as he cradled his friend, muttered pleas to me.

“Don’t go…”

He’d die.

Guy had picked up a rifle. He hadn’t noticed yet that it wasn’t loaded. Cindy looked comatose.

They would die.

Trudie and her wolves were panting, salivating blood.

They would die. It would take a lot of bullets. But they would eventually die.

I stared at a dozen tired, broken faces. And I knew I couldn’t keep this up.

My war would have to end.

Treth felt my resignation. I expected arguments. Pleas from him as well as Brett. But none came. He knew what needed to be done.

I stepped forward and placed my hands on my head.

A black werewolf stepped in my way. Trudie growled at me, and then turned to the police. Heather stepped up beside her, holding her glaive. Pranish muttered under his breath as his eyes darted across his notepad. Flames erupted behind his eyes.

Henri, his left arm limp, braced a rifle on the ground, pulled back the bolt and then held it ready with one hand. Kyong, without spark, fell into a combat pose. More and more joined, picking up whatever they could, and surrounding me.

Brett pulled himself up, and limped beside me, holding my shoulder.

He looked into my eyes.

“We won’t let them have you. Never again.”

“But…we’re outnumbered…”

They were crazy. They’d die…they’d all…

A faint buzz became audible in the distance. Then louder. And louder. I heard clacking and muttering from the police lines. Even the disciplined Whiteshield mercs began looking over their shoulders.

Then, the buzz became a chorus. A song carried by hundreds of voices. Maybe a thousand.

“A bounty is all I need,

To feed my hungry belly.

But even if I starve tonight,

The hunt is all I need.”

It was the Monster Hunter’s anthem. An old song. The older Crusaders had sung it at the Gravekeeper Tavern after enough pints to knock over a troll. I hadn’t heard it for what seemed an age.

The singers, hundreds of them, clambered over the debris and stopped a yard from the Whiteshield and police lines.

They didn’t wear uniforms. They didn’t have guns or armour. Some held placards. But they weren’t protesters. Not against me, at least. Many wore the knock-off salamander coats that Conrad flogged. Others wore the Crusader armbands and hats. And, on their placards was a simple image – of a figure with flaming wings.

And among them were not just humans. Golden lights whizzed above the heads of the crowd. Bark-skinned dryads hummed along to the tune. Orcs held human children high on their shoulders so they could see. I recognised Gareth and the other werewolves within the crowd, their eyes glowing gold.

They hadn’t forgotten about us…

The crowd circled the police and mercs, as they struggled to decide who to aim at. As the crowd of our allies and people who supported us settled, I recognised a woman at the front of the crowd, holding a megaphone. Jane. She wore a shotgun strapped across her back.

Jane was joined by Conrad and…Phillip Brown. Jane pressed a button on the megaphone to send out a beep, stopping the chanting. She handed the megaphone to Phillip, who accepted it and faced the police lines.

“Captain, it would be wise to stand down. Your constituents aren’t pleased with your behaviour. And they pay our salaries.”

“We are under orders to arrest these criminals,” the Captain retorted, even as his men shifted and muttered. Some had already dropped their guns. “If you obstruct justice, you will be considered an accomplice.”

I couldn’t see it for certain, but I could detect Phillip’s satisfied grin. Even now, I wanted to slap him. And he was on my side!

“It’s not that simple, Captain. This is no longer a criminal matter. This is a constitutional issue. The warrant you have is void and irrelevant. The Last Light is not a criminal you can just arrest. She is governed by a higher power than you or I.”

“Bullshit!” the captain yelled. “I don’t know who you are, but this is a final warning. Stand down. Surrender the Last Light, and we will not fire…”

The captain’s words were cut off, suddenly, as the world heaved. Some of the injured Crusaders toppled. I held onto Brett, keeping him upright, as everything shook.

“The Titan?!” some people screamed.

It couldn’t be. Not now. Had the Conclave gotten to it? When we were distracted? The Mentor had said the war would begin after the Izingane Zegazi had been dealt with. But I didn’t expect it to be this soon!

But I could see Table Mountain. It was still whole. Rather, the sky above us was beginning to shimmer, as runes lit up across the sky. Tapestries and scrolls burst from the void, surrounding us.

I recognised the script. I had seen it on Pranish and Colin’s work when they’d been developing DigiLaw. It was lawmancy.

It couldn’t be…

The scrolls formed tendril-like arms, as the tapestries moulded into a giant, blinking eye. The world stopped shaking, and the eye shifted to the police captain.

He went ghostly white as he dropped his megaphone.

Even from here, I could see the shock on Jane’s face. But Phillip just looked smug. He spoke into the megaphone again.

“The Spirit of the Law seems to think that Kat Drummond and her comrades haven’t done anything wrong. I wouldn’t test it. It’s been known to sting.”

Pranish was covering his mouth in shock and awe, even as he analysed every bit of this behemoth above us.

“It can’t be…” he muttered. “It’s meant to only come out during…”

“Constitutional matters,” Phillip continued. “Are of upmost concern to the Spirit of the Law. And it now recognises the Last Light and the Crusaders as a necessary organ of the state. Hope City’s defenders. And as they stood against foreign invasion, you are attempting treason in apprehending them.”

Almost every cop and merc had dropped their guns. Some had run, disappearing into the crowd.

The captain moved his mouth, unable to say anything.

“It wants an answer, Captain,” Phillip said. “Will you stand down?”

The captain was frozen, just as the Spirit of the Law boomed, moving its tendrils to strike. The captain dropped to the floor and grabbed the megaphone.

“We stand down! We give up. Please…”

As suddenly as it had appeared, the Spirit of the Law dissolved. Satisfied.

The police fled. Many on foot, abandoning their vehicles.

The Crusaders and purifiers breathed a sigh of relief as our allies surged towards us, embracing friends and offering healing, food, snacks and even beer.

A child offered me a bottle of cola. My discomfort at bringing a kid onto a battlefield was soon overwhelmed by my desire for a drink. I thanked him and he beamed, as I drank the beverage.

And, as I did so, I saw a purifier exit the shadow of the ruined hospital.

Stephanie Naidoo stopped as she saw I’d noticed her. She looked like she’d blown all her spark on one hell of an illusion.

I smiled and then pretended I hadn’t seen her, as the people of Hope City reminded us why we fought for them.

Chapter 25.    Home

***GUY***

Salty sea air washed over my face and filled my lungs as I stood facing the ocean. Behind us were rolling green hills. Just like my homeland. We were close to it. Just by the Three Point Line. We’d driven in convoy with CDF troops coming for their tours on the border. Some had wanted my and Cindy’s autograph in Plett. When Conrad had tried to get me to participate in his grand merchandising scheme, I’d calmly and firmly told him to shove it. I didn’t fight for fame. And much less for his merchandising profits.

But this was different.

Or, perhaps it was the same, and I was different. Maybe, I was just happy to have the people supporting us again. And, it seemed that for every naysayer and hater, there were dozens more who remembered who kept them safe while they slept in their beds and barracks.

The CDF soldiers saluted us as we passed through, and we saluted back, before continuing on our way to a distant hill, covered by grave markers without bodies.

This battle had lasted a lifetime. More. And it didn’t leave bodies. Those who died fighting the Blood did not expect a burial. But we did what we could.

Themba, Bongani, the Blood Hunter who had finally introduced himself as Dumi, Cindy and I stood on this hill, marked by graves. And we remembered. Not like the Blood remembered. Not with hate. We remembered our comrades fondly who had fought for a better future. To save people.

Silumko, my mentor. Blessing, who betrayed us, but then redeemed himself through sacrifice. Anathi, who lost her life defending her family. And many, many more. Wisdom, the boys from my village, and the Transkei Rebels were memorialised among them.

We stood in solemn silence, letting the sea breeze wash over us. It was calm. Peaceful. I knew it wouldn’t last. But, for now, I could enjoy it.

Themba, healed from his wounds, but still limping slightly, checked his watch.

“We’re going to be late for the crossing!” he announced, and then turned to me. We embraced.

“Be safe, cousin. Don’t go chasing monsters you can’t slay.”

He released me and turned to Cindy. “Keep him out of trouble, Cins.”

Cindy and my cousin hugged, and she smiled. “Always.”

I shook hands with Bongani and Dumi.

“Thank you, brothers,” I said.

“Thank you,” they replied. Together, we breathed, deeply. The air smelled different. Cleaner.

“The Path…” Bongani began.

“Is complete,” I finished.

We never thought we’d live to say that.

“Au contraire, gentleman,” Themba said, beaming like his old self. “There’s still an Empire to topple. Sure, the vampires are on the run, but impi can be just as scary.”

“You’ve got your own vamps watching your back now, cousin. I expect you to be reigning over the Xhosa Kingdom in the next year.”

“Me?” Themba scoffed. “I’m no king. None of us are. Transkei shall be a land where every Xhosa is king!”

I laughed. “That’d still make you a king.”

Themba grinned. “You’re right there.”

We hugged once more.

“Goodbye, cousin. We’ll see each other again.”

“I’m counting on it.”

I watched them as they left, mounting their bikes at the bottom of the hill, before I turned back to the grave markers.

I crossed past the graves of freedom fighters and Blood Hunters, touching the tops of the stones we’d carved with our own hands, and stopped at the top.

A single grave dominated the top of the precipice, looking over the sea.

I took off my backpack and fished inside it, retrieving a bottle of splendid, golden-brown liquid.

Whiskey. The label read: Coronation, 20 Years.

It was expensive. Rare. Good vintage. More than a good handgun. But it was worth every penny.

He would have liked it.

I placed the bottle carefully by the grave, so as not to cover the name engraved upon the stone.

Graham.

I stood, looking at the grave, and the whiskey by it, letting the sound, scent and touch of the sea air wash over me. Again, and again.

Cindy reached out and touched my hand. I squeezed hers and held it, firmly.

I think he also would have liked her. Or more what she represented.

He’d always wanted me to find someone.

“Who was he?” she asked.

I’d never told her. Perhaps, because it was too painful. Or, perhaps, because words could never do justice.

“A tokoloshe,” I said. “And my best friend.”

Tears welled up in my eyes, as I smiled at memories. Painful, beautiful, happy and sad.

I embraced my wife, and stayed by Graham’s side, until the sun went down, and we returned home.

***KAT***

“You rested enough in the hospital!” Treth exclaimed. Well, he’d say it was exclaiming. Sounded more like a whine to me. “Let’s go out and get some action. Slay some undead!”

I ignored him, as I reclined on my couch, in my apartment, letting Alex nuzzle my chin as I read a sci-fi novel. Brett was out getting food for dinner. He wanted to cook something. We may not be married like Cins and Guy, but he was definitely trying to be a good househusband!

Just what I needed after being comatose, awaking to an apocalyptic battle, then almost losing all my friends to gunfire.

At least the police hadn’t questioned the appearance of the Spirit of the Law yet. I trusted that Phillip Brown was pulling strings to make sure it wasn’t looked into.

Hah. It felt weird to be trusting Phillip. But he’d come through for us, at the end. Well, if vampires could be our allies, then perhaps even Phillip could be too.

I sighed at Treth’s griping and put down the book. I tried not to smile. It was good to have him in my head again. Even if his tone was annoying.

“I wouldn’t call a spiritual journey through Avathor rejuvenating, Treth. I need a real rest. Gods know that I deserve one!”

Treth didn’t reply. I felt a hint of sadness from my ghostly friend.

“I’m sorry, Treth…”

“It’s fine, Kat. I’m just a little sad, you know? I know this may be my new home, but I still miss Avathor. Sometimes.”

“You are allowed to,” I replied, closing the book for good. “Our home never really changes. No matter where we go, no matter what happens to it. I won’t take that away from you. But know that I’m glad to have you here.”

I felt Treth smile, and I smiled back, before closing my eyes, and letting Alex curl up on my chest.

It was good to be home. And it was good to relax while I could.

I felt Candace approaching. Her presence through our soul-connection was strengthening. She was drawing closer by the hour.

She was returning home.

Which meant one thing.

The real war was about to begin.

***

Hope City had always been beautiful. Even as fires, and darkness consumed it, it had always contained a certain majesty. Even the slums held a pulsating energy that the man in the dark robes could not deny. It was his home, after all, and no matter where his journeys took him across the seas of spirit and Earth, he couldn’t help but return.

Wind buffeted his robes, as he squatted on the edge of the dark tower that protruded from Hope City’s mountain, the Titan’s Tomb. He’d never been a fan of the Titan Citadel. It was garish. Beastly. He remembered what Table Mountain looked like without it.

Before the quakes, no one in what was once Cape Town would have dared mar their mountain with such a monstrosity.

Well, the apocalypse had a way of changing priorities.

The man sighed. It couldn’t be helped, of course. The wind, always present in Hope City, sped up, almost pulling the photos he carefully guarded from his hands. He held on, until the gusts calmed.

He stood up, and gazed at the photos, a small smile forming across his lips.

One photo contained a girl with dark, chestnut hair and blue eyes, holding an ice cream cone at a park. The other, a blonde girl in a dark hoodie, posing as if for a school photograph.

Two projects. Two creations. Now, one.

It was all coming together. And the pieces were all forming. Beautifully. One by one.

The cursed dagger, given to that hapless thug, was just another piece. It would kill a normal mortal. But not her. It would only push her inward. Make her realise more of what she was. What she could be.

It made her stronger.

The man smiled, as he let the photos fly off in the wind. They disappeared into the void before they could get too far.

She was almost ready.

Ready to be a worthy Vessel.

A worthy saviour of the world.

“I can barely contain my excitement.”

The man turned his back to Hope City, splayed his arms, and fell backwards into the void.

***

The real war begins. The Last Light may be a beacon of hope and light in a city being consumed by darkness, but can she defeat her creator?

The Last Light, book 14 of the Kat Drummond Series, will be out later this year!

Follow the Kat’s Crusaders website, join the Facebook group and follow the newsletter so you don’t miss the release!

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Afterword

This book is not just a sequel to the Kat Drummond Series. In a way, it is a direct continuation of the conflict and struggle of Blood Hunter, the first novel in the Katverse to not star Kat. It is only right, then, that Guy came to take up much of this book.

I know that I’m not alone in my love for Guy Giles-Mgebe. Many readers adore him so much that they send me hate mail for daring to harm him (keep it coming!).

Before Blood Hunter, he was a bit of an unknown. A professional, cold character that served more as a straight man to contrast with Brett’s snark.

But, as characters always do, Guy evolved. It started with hints of his background in Darkness Beckons, where he speaks about his failure to avenge his family and how vampires are pursuing him. This started as a way to give him a motivation like Brett. But it got me thinking. And then it got me writing. And then Blood Hunter was born.

The Katverse has many powerful and amazing characters. And Guy Giles-Mgebe, despite being only human, is one of them.

His path may now be complete, but that doesn’t mean his story is done. And, perhaps, I may even explore the stories of other characters in the future. I know that Cindy Giles and Conrad Khoi have a lot of stories to tell. About banishing Satan and saving the world from an angelic apocalypse.

All in good time, though. First, Kat and Candace have to face their creator. Will they survive? I can’t wait for you to find out!

Acknowledgements

It takes an organisation as tenacious and as large as the Crusaders to produce a book. Thankfully, I have my very own Crusaders to help me bring my creations up to a standard where you can enjoy them.

Thank you to my editor and mother, Shelley Woode-Smith. Who else would I have to argue Latin with if not you?

Thank you to Deranged Doctor Design for another stellar covers!

Thank you to all the beta and advanced readers for providing critiques and affirmation.

And, finally, thank you and all other readers. You are the real Crusaders, for without you, there would be no Katverse. Just some random documents sitting on my computer, gathering digital dust.

For giving Kat life, I am forever grateful.