He had to end this grueling stand-off. He had to find Hubert and kill him.
It was a struggle to search for Hubert, while fending off the horde, but he managed. He’d no sooner begun, however, than he heard the low buzz of a helicopter rotor, growing louder by the second. He had the brief thought that their pilot must have come back to evacuate them, but dismissed that quickly. The pilot was human. He’d have no idea what was happening here. And if he did, he’d take one look at Hubert’s zombie army, and get the hell out of there.
He had the even more unlikely thought that the approaching copter was Anthony sending help. But that was such a ridiculous idea that it was there and gone before he could draw the breath to laugh about it.
The zombie vamps didn’t seem to care either way. If they noticed the helicopter, they didn’t react to it. Christian had nothing but his peripheral vision to spare for the new arrival, and it showed him a single, large male jumping from the helicopter when it was still well above the ground, which meant the jumper was a vampire. But friend or foe?
“What the fuck?” Christian muttered. Like he needed anything to make this night worse.
But the vampire who burst through the horde, sword in hand, slicing left and right as he strove to join them, was definitely a friend. Cibor hacked a path to Christian’s side, put the building at his back, and wordlessly joined their defense, wielding his sword and his power with deadly accuracy. He fought with a confidence and grace that were the product of his history. He’d been born in a time when men fought with swords, and he’d wielded a blade from the day his hands were big enough to hold one.
“Jaclyn sends her regards,” Cibor said finally, not even glancing aside as he cleared a cluster of vampires, slicing them open, then stabbing them in the heart to be sure they were truly dead. It was much easier to know such things when your enemy simply dusted upon death. With these zombies, you had to make sure.
Christian raised his eyebrows in surprise. He hadn’t expected Jaclyn’s aid, not with her close association to Raphael. But he was happy to have it. “I’ll thank her personally when this is over,” he said.
“You think you’ll survive this?” Cibor asked, as he lifted his chin to indicate the seemingly endless army of zombie vamps.
“I know I will,” Christian assured him.
Cibor tossed his head back and laughed. “I gotta say, Duvall. You’ve got balls. Speaking of which—” He paused to take out three vampires who were attempting to take advantage of what they thought was his distraction, clearing enough space that he could get more than few words out. “Listen, Natalie found something in Anthony’s files. Vincent isn’t coming to this party. Anthony sent him on a wild goose chase in the opposite direction.” He grunted as a vampire came flying out of the pack, vaulting over his fellow zombies in his eagerness to die. Christian raised his power to destroy the vamp, but Cibor lifted his sword first. He impaled the vamp through the chest, then tossed the body off his blade and back into the fray with a flick of his wrist.
As if that was a signal of some sort, the zombie vampires abruptly pulled back a few yards. They crouched low and hunched together, their red eyes staring straight ahead, never blinking, never veering. Hands were curled into claws, and their fangs dripped saliva along with their own blood, from where they’d sliced up their lips. These were very new vampires, and it made Christian furious that Hubert was using them this way.
“Creepy bastards,” Cibor muttered, whipping his sword through the air to strip the blood off. “What the hell are they doing?”
Christian had a pretty good idea, but first. . . . “Is Natalie okay?” he asked.
Cibor nodded. “Completely safe. Jaclyn’s with her.”
Relief washed over Christian, giving him a boost of energy. His worry for her had been a distraction he couldn’t afford. Knowing she was okay was like getting a shot of power that he badly needed. He scanned the crouching vampires.
“Time to end this,” he said grimly. Tightening his shield around him, drawing on all of his power, he blasted a message into the ether. “Hubert!”
His answer came almost instantly. The zombie vamps parted like the biblical Red Sea, murmuring something rhythmic, their eyes lifted to the upper end of the opening pathway. Christian listened carefully, and realized the vamps were chanting Hubert’s name over and over again. Creepy didn’t come close to describing this scene.
The last of the vamps cleared the pathway, and Hubert was suddenly visible at the top of a small hill, standing there soaking up the worship of his admirers. A brilliant smile crossed his face when he swung his gaze over and found Christian watching him.
“Christian Duvall,” Hubert said. “What a delightful surprise. I’d expected Anthony. This is his territory, after all.”
“Bullshit. You know exactly where Anthony is,” Christian replied. “He’s back home safe and sound while you kill his enemies for him.”
Hubert shrugged. “Anthony is a weakling. But then . . . we can’t all be me,” he said, and laughed at his own jest. He sobered abruptly. “You should have sided with me when you had the chance, Duvall. I would have given you whatever territory you wanted.”
Christian chuckled. “Once you’re gone, the entire South will be mine, old man. I don’t like to share.”
“You think you can take me? You’re an infant, compared to me.”
“I’m old enough.”
“As you wish,” Hubert said casually, then flung his arm out, sending a huge blast of power bowling down the pathway.
Christian yelled a warning and shoved Marc and Cibor aside, as his own shields hardened in defense. The strike hit him like a thousand pound medicine ball, crashing against his shields, but not breaking them.
Christian matched Hubert’s smug smile as he revealed the full force of his vampire nature for the first time that night. Power swelled inside him, hardening his shields, screaming down his nerves, strengthening his muscles, until he felt ten feet tall and bursting with energy and confidence. He roared his defiance and slapped aside Hubert’s attack, sending a return volley sizzling up the open pathway in a stream of blue fire. Zombie vamps screamed as they were caught in the blast, charred in an instant. The fireball crashed into Hubert who was standing there like a king, the dying screams of his minions washing over him while he ignored them. He staggered under the assault, then straightened with a howl of rage. Furious eyes shot copper flames, huge fangs glared white in a snarling grimace. He strode closer, every foot pounding into the soft ground, arms reaching out, firing shot after shot of pure power, each one stronger than the last, each one hitting Christian in a different place in a bid to break his shields.
Christian turned to Marc and the others. “Get away,” he said. “This is between the two of us.”
“I won’t leave you,” Marc growled furiously.