The Crowned (The Blood and Brotherhood Saga, Book 6) (21 page)

Leaping nearer to Seth, he slowed his dissent with his wings
and began launching fireballs at those nearest to him, clearing a path before
him and his master above.

Thousands of Vampires simply rushed around him, flooding in
the city beyond and there was little Borrik could do except watch them go. The
void in the ruined wall was too large and the defenders who remained up top had
lost their nearest point of dissention with the destruction of the wall.

He felt helpless, trying to plan for the worst. As usual, it
seemed his master had other plans.

* * * * *

Seth felt the wall crumble beneath him, and felt as the stone
shards lanced through his body. Spreading his torn wings, he remained focused as
they healed and the wall fell away beneath him. There was little he could do
now for those upon the wall. No emotions. Keeping his mind in the fight, Seth
reached out the miles to Sigrant’s camp and did the unthinkable.

Unleashing a torrent of lightning he destroyed, everything
in Sara’s vicinity. Sara included. Again and again he blasted all those with
bloated auras with wicked unholy lightning that lit the sky in strobes of green
and yellow. He had no choice. He could not differentiate them from one another,
as fast as they moved. He could not train his focus on them because of their
speed, but he could lay waste to the entire area and he did so over and over
again, his power fleeing from him with the exertion. All he could do was watch
the auras of the woman he loved and her attackers, and hope that he was right…

 And he was.

As the blasts of lighting destroyed their bodies again and
again, Sara’s attackers’ powers waned, but not Sara’s, she had a constant
influx from her underlings within the city, but time was growing short. Seth
relented, stretching the time between his attacks, and watched with his unique
vision, hoping she would forgive him.

Just when Sara thought things could get no worse, she
realized that by killing the vampire female she had inadvertently allowed the
others to grow stronger and faster. She knew, though, that such leaps in power
took adjustment and through all the scratching, clawing, kicking, and biting
she used an opponent’s miscalculation to her own advantage.

The vampire she had thrown by her scalp had returned to the
fray, running headlong into the fight, though with her added speed she
miscalculated her leap towards Sara. Knocking the nearest two of her opponents
aside, Sara thrust her hand out and caught the woman in midair, new hair and
all, her hand penetrating fully though the other woman. In her hand she held
the mangled heart of the woman and, pulling her hand free from both the back
and then the front of the woman’s ribcage, she showed it to her before making a
fist and turning it to bloody ooze. Another fell.

Sara knew that this time they would grow even faster and
hoped to again be able to use it to her advantage, but they were relentless. They
tore at her, ripping her flesh and joints, pulling limbs from her body, and
crushing and breaking bones. If only she had a few seconds reprieve to gather
her bearings and launch a solid attack of her own. Then her prayers were answered
by an explosion followed by a nightmare.

Wicked lightning began to crackle down from the sky, seeking
those below with devastating effect. Instantaneously bodies were charred
through and through to the bone, limbs blasting off where they made contact to
the ground, and Sara was no exception.

Again and again her body was seared from the inside out, her
organs cooking, and flesh burning away in an instant as it healed back just as
quickly. Again and again she healed nearly completely before the next blast. Her
limbs became stumps in seconds, the blasts exploding them like fatty meat upon
a fire. She regenerated over and over only to endure the torture, screaming as
her lungs healed only to be silenced again as they burnt. Blackness claimed her
over and over, though only for fractions of seconds before she was restored to
feel the anguish again.

Then, for only a second, the lightning ceased and Sara’s
wounds began to heal quickly as her eyes focused, the puss clearing from them
in an instant. Before her an enemy laid, a charred carcass screaming in silence
as her lungs reformed in her chest cavity. Just as the woman’s flesh began to
turn pink and grow once more, Sara plunged her still re-growing hand in and
tore free her heart. The enemy’s healing ceased, but the lightning returned.

Again Sara was struck down, destroyed, but again she healed
enough to discern her surroundings and felled two more opponents before she was
again punished by the unholy power raining down from the sky.

The lightning relented again and this time Sara was on her
feet before they were even restored. Pouncing from one ruined vampire to
another, she tore at them with the bare bones of her fingers, ripping free the
charred remains of their hearts and shredding them as she leapt to the next
victim. Only seconds had passed, but Sara managed to destroy all her remaining
foes before trying her best to prepare for the lightning once more. But it
never came again…

Instead she heard a familiar voice.

* * * * *

Robert Sigrant was no fool. At the first sign that he might
get caught up in the brawl between the demon princess and his many lovers, he
was wise to give himself a little more distance. He felt the loss of his first
two lovers, but also felt the power that followed. The princess was winning the
battle but losing the war. With each opponent she felled, he became stronger
through the re-transformation of his wives’ progeny.

Though he was loath to lose his brides, he preferred it over
losing his life. So long as she continued killing his harem and being injured,
he imagined they would again at least be equals by the time she finished. If
even she survived all of his wives, for they grew stronger too.

Sigrant’s distance saved him when the lightning came, and
even at this distance he could see the source of the unholy storm. With a blast
the lightning had started, and across the miles the demon prince flapped his
wings in defiance as Sigrant’s hopes of killing the princess were dashed.

Again and again the lighting struck, dozens of times within seconds.
Again and again his brides and the princess were reduced to charred lumps of
smoking coal. But then the lightning slowed. From the ashes the dark princess
arose and sought out her enemies. She was the more powerful, and still growing.
She healed faster and in doing so she began to dispatch Sigrant’s harem between
the blasts. It was sickening, watching her rise, seemingly from the dead, to
kill those who could not defend against her. Sigrant enjoyed it immensely. She
was a beauty to be admired.

He watched as all of his wives were murdered and the
lightning ceased. He watched still as Sara rose to her feet, her nude body
preserved at the pinnacle of her life. Her raven hair stood in dark contrast to
her milky flesh and her round, firm breasts bounced with her movement. She was
perfection. Just like himself. She was powerful beyond measure. She knew
pleasure as only they could. She could drink it in with him, and together they
would be unstoppable.

He watched her turn, brushing the hair from her face, and
ash from her hands and knees. He admired her body, and wanted to taste it in
every way possible. But she wanted to kill him.

Sigrant faced a dilemma. Around him, the remaining members
of his army, the wave he had been reserving to end the battle, walked around
confused, uncertain what to do. Weak once more, they had become human again. Sara
would soon spy him and she wanted him dead. And she
could
kill him. She
was easily more powerful than he.

Calculating as he was, Sigrant thought of only one thing he could
do to turn things around.

“Princess Sara,” he began, “I wonder if you have thought
much about your situation.”

Watching her turn faster than even he could imagine, her
eyes locked on him and she bared her teeth with a hiss.

“Hear my words, princess, then we can fight if you wish.”

She approached him slowly. Stalking him as a cat might stalk
its prey.

“You and I are the same. Do you not find your new life
lonely? However could anyone love you again now that you are more powerful than
they are? Does your prince love you? After all, he just tried to kill you with
lightning! Or is he just using you to further his own power?” Sigrant let the
words sink in, hoping to see some change in her demeanor.

“You have left the race of humans behind, princess. Together
you and I could rule the world. Think of it. It would be perfection. We could
spend eternity together, you and I, and I would cherish you like never before. I
would love you, and we could experience pleasures of the likes we have never before
imagined. We could save the world from war and disease. There would be no more
death. Together we could build a paradise unrivaled.”
That was it… Her
features changed. Her hatred lessened.

“Sara. You could be my queen and we could save humanity and
all other races from the pains of life. All wars would cease, and the entire
world could live in peace.” She froze in her steps, her expression changing
.
Confusion? Was that what her eyes held?

Cautiously he reached out his hands and took a step towards
her. “Come, Princess Sara. Take my hand. Be my bride. Let us save the world
together.”

* * * * *

Seth watched and strained and focused his power over the
vast distance. He tried to remain patient. He watched the auras of Sara’s
attackers began to wither away, their power being drained by the constant need
to heal. Sara’s shrank too, but with constant power being fed to her from
within the city she failed at a slower rate. He relented his magical barrage
and watched as an aura dissipated.

Unleashing another round, he waited again and watched. Two
more fell. Again he attacked and again he abated. Sara must have taken the cue.
Within seconds the remaining auras were destroyed. The only remaining vampires
in Sigrant’s camp were himself and Sara, and it was obvious that Sara had the
upper hand.

Refocusing his attention, he was surprised to find Borrik
just ahead and below him, though now no fighting was going on. Thousands of
Sigrant’s troops had swarmed into the city but now they all milled around,
unsure what had befallen them. The battle had changed. Valdadore was still
badly outnumbered, but at least they were facing humans.

It took only moments for the fighting to begin anew,
Sigrant’s captains and commanders yelling out to create battle formations and
defenders spilling down from the walls to fight in the streets of the city.

Seth looked around and caught eyes with Borrik, who grinned
menacingly. Garret’s forces would have to handle the interior of the city, Seth
needed to stop the flow of Sigrant’s army and he had just the plan to
accomplish it.

Folding his wings he settled to the ground and, bending, he
traced a symbol upon the rubble beneath him. Seeking out the symbol near the
healers that he had created earlier, he siphoned the power from it, rendering
it obsolete. Then reaching out with his mind, he located all of the medallions
he had created in preparation for this battle. Grasping them with his power, he
sent the command out on tendrils to all of them.
Seth, save me.
That was
all it took.

Near a thousand of his rat troops, and a half-dozen of his
wolven commanders appeared with the blink of an eye, a confused and entangled
mass of bodies.

Heads looked this way and that, all of them trying to
comprehend what had happened to them. Even Sigrant’s troops froze, uncertain
what to do now that they were mixed with the inhuman forces.

“Hold this line!” Borrik commanded, and as if someone had
just animated their bodies both sides began to fight once more.

Seth watched, ashamed, as Sigrant’s nearest forces were
dispatched by his men. The butchery was short, but facing superior soldiers,
Sigrant’s forces outside the castle fell back a short distance and began to
regroup. Then, without warning, the war horns sounded.

* * * * *

Garret stood upon his mound of the dead, and hacked and
slashed those opponents ignorant enough to believe that they could feed upon
him. Near a thousand bodies lay wasted around him and beneath his feet.

He had fought the weaker creatures with no issues, and even
when the second wave arrived they failed to bring him down though they had
tried several times. It was not until the earth shook and a blast of stone and
dust clanged off of his metallic skin, that the king of Valdadore realized that
there was an issue that could require his attention.

Turning to stalk down his mound of gore, he cleaved a path
through the vampires who now gathered to climb through the rubble-filled
opening in the city’s defenses. Picking up speed as he charged towards the
opening, smashing those vampires to slow to flee him, he watched as every one
of them froze in their tracks and began looking around confused as if coming
out from under some spell. It was apparent almost immediately that they had
changed.

Gone was their agility, strength, and speed. Returned were
the human enemies Garret could hope to destroy. All he needed to do was keep
them out of his city. Twenty more yards and the king of Valdadore slid to a
stop, smashing the retreating forms of Sigrant’s soldiers beneath him, and
cleaving a few more for sport.

Within the chasm created by the wall’s collapse stood a new
wall of fur and fangs. Seth’s unnatural soldiers had taken up the call to hold
the intruders at bay.
But why stop there when the enemy was on the run?

Looking first to his brother, then to the mass of ugly
little troops surrounding him, Garret pointed out to the fields surrounding
Valdadore and shouted,