A Shade of Vampire 82 A Circle of Nine - Bella Forrest Page 0,66

their souls were virtually tossed out—food for the incoming ghouls.

We worked incredibly well together, and I knew the Darklings’ reckoning was finally upon them. Some of the more experienced lieutenants tried casting death magic spells, but Widow had little patience for such artifices. Leading some of our ghouls, he tore through the enemy’s ranks before the spells could even leave their scythes.

I cut down one of the Darklings, and he fell on the town hall steps, blood spreading like crimson glaze. His soul emerged from the lifeless flesh, and Rudolph looked at me, waiting for my permission. I could see the hunger in his big black eyes, and I couldn’t bring myself to deny him. What were a few more souls not going into the afterlife, when the Darklings had deprived millions of Rimians and Naloreans and even their own Aeternae of a decent ending?

Nodding, I watched Rudolph chase the terrified spirit up the stairs. In death, the Darkling was weak, terrified, and defenseless. “Now, you know how your victims felt,” I muttered. A moment later, his soul was devoured.

The town hall doors swung open, and out came Timotheus. I’d seen him leave the guesthouse earlier, and I was glad to face him here. “Kinda late to the party, don’t you think?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He looked around, horror imprinted on his face. Oh, he definitely hadn’t seen any of this coming.

“You’re making a huge mistake,” he managed, something caught in his throat. “When the Master of Darkness hears about this, you’re done for. You’re all done for!”

The Night Bringer climbed the stairs, calmly headed straight for Timotheus. “We are entities beyond your mortal comprehension,” he said. “Older than any form of time you know. And it’s time you were put back into your places, because there is no amount of trickery that will save you from what comes next.”

“Stand back!” Timotheus yelped, taking out his scythe. His lips moved as he uttered a death magic spell.

Night was practically amused. “Did you really think there were no consequences to your meddling in the natural order of life and death? Was the acquisition of power so appealing that you couldn’t resist getting on Death’s bad side?”

A pulse erupted from Timotheus’s scythe. It hit Night in the shoulder, and for a moment the physical matter that made up Night’s body rippled all over, like ink shaking inside a glass jar. Night grunted uncomfortably but shook off the sensation. He waved a hand, and Timotheus’s eyes turned white. He was blind, forever wrapped in darkness.

“You idiots keep forgetting that the death magic you learned comes from one of us,” Night said as Timotheus screamed and covered his eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I may not know all of Spirit’s magic, but it all comes from the same place. And after what he put me through, I have developed a sort of… immunity.”

By the time he reached Timotheus, the Darkling was on his knees, weeping. Without a second thought, Night gripped him by the throat and drove his scythe through Timotheus’s chest. The blade emerged on the other side, and the crunching of bones sent shivers down my spine. Ashes flew from his body, his soul destroyed.

Dumping Timotheus, Night turned to look at me. “Perhaps it’s not okay, but I admit I feel much better now. There’s nothing like a dollop of vengeance to oil my gears.”

“Death will be so pissed,” I said, slightly amused.

Night shrugged. The street behind me was almost quiet now, though more Darklings were pouring in from the south side of town. They were no match for us, but I knew this whole scene had made enough noise to possibly warn those inside the guesthouse, as well.

“Come on, let’s go save your girlfriend,” Night said. I wanted to correct him regarding Nethissis, but I did like the sound of it.

We rejoined the main line of attack, cutting down every Darkling in our path without hesitation. Night’s plan was working so far. He’d posited that taking down the Darklings in Laramis would leave the guesthouse exposed. The Visentis boys and Atlas would then be woefully outnumbered, with only Nethissis’s spirit as leverage—a spirit Petra had demanded be kept safe.

I wasn’t sure her safety was still a guarantee at this point, regardless of how the Visentis boys cared to proceed, but I knew this had been the best and perhaps only way to stop the terror in Laramis. Our time was now, and the Darklings needed to learn they had