The Dead of Sanguine Night Read online

  :We got her,: Adelaide said. :Hold tight Maggie, we are nearly there. Remember what we read—:

  “Of course you can’t,” Lauren said. “They’re dead!”

  :What we read!: Adelaide said. :She’s a lich. There’s something on her, about her, something that’s housing her soul. You have to destroy that. Anything that looks different about her, destroy it!:

  Margaret sagged to the floor, tears slipping down her face. They were tears of joy, glad that her clan was safe, glad that they hadn’t died in that house. Lauren didn’t know that though, and she swayed closer to Margaret, laughing.

  “Aww, poor thing. You let them all die!”

  Margaret let the necromancer talk, let her prattle on thinking that she’d defeated her once and for all. She waited until the death mancer was closer, waited until she could see Lauren’s black slippers under her gaze before she acted. When she struck, it was swift and true. Behind her strike, Margaret put all of her fear of losing those that were closest to her, those who loved her unconditionally and those she loved the same. The strike was hard, straight through the only thing she’d noticed of difference about the necromancer, her ghostly blue eyes.

  The sword sliced through the top of Lauren’s head. When her blade connected with the eyes, they shattered like glass. Fine dust slashed into the air, exploding outwards from her eyes. The top of her head thumped to the floor and tumbled away.

  The dust didn’t settle on the floor, instead it hung on the air. A blue light shimmered from the dust of her eyes, and drifted toward Margaret. It drifted through her, and she felt a warmth. She knew without knowing precisely how she knew, that this wasn’t another attack. This was something else. The blue light seemed to kindle something in her. Deep within, she felt a blossoming of power, like a lotus flower opening up in the deep recesses of her mind.

  Margaret sighed and slumped against the doorway. She only had a moment’s reprieve before she heard a racket in the living room. Through the buzz of the broadcaster, she heard the other hunters engaging the ghouls. Before long, the last of the undead were slain and Samuel thumped through the house, searching for Margaret.

  He found her in the doorway. Samuel hugged her, and kissed her softly on the forehead.

  “Let’s get you home,” Samuel said.

  “Agreed, she’s done an amazing job,” Adelaide said, finding them in the hallway.

  Through the broadcaster she could hear Lincoln speaking with the other hunter in the living room.

  “Who was the Pralin that came with you?” Margaret asked Samuel.

  “Vincent Pralin. He’s a scout,” Samuel said.

  :You’ve all done a good job,: Nancy said on the other end of the broadcaster.

  “How do you know?” Lincoln asked his mother. “You didn’t see us.”

  :Shut up,: Nancy said, exasperated. :You’re still alive. That’s a great job in my book.:

  “If I were your mother,” Vincent said to Lincoln, “you wouldn’t be alive for long.”

  :I like him!: Nancy called.

  Margaret followed her father and Adelaide out of the house and onto Main Street. It was there Margaret saw the scout clearly for the first time. The Pralin family was one of the families she’d heard of, but had never met. Still, she thought she’d seen him around before.

  He was a tall man, wiry with strength that was hinted at by the way he carried himself, but couldn’t be evidenced through the brown leather long coat he wore. He was a black man with short hair and a goatee. His lips were full and pouty and his eyes wide and so dark they reminded Margaret of coffee.

  “Hi,” Margaret said, pushing Lincoln out of the way and holding her hand out to Vincent. “I’m Margaret.”

  “Hey!” Lincoln said. “You can’t eat him!

  Adelaide snickered, but covered her mouth with her hand and pushed ahead. She grabbed Lincoln’s sleeve and led him away from the two of them so that Margaret was alone with the scout.

  Samuel frowned at the young man, but the scout didn’t notice.

  “I’m Vincent,” he said in a low voice that rushed through Margaret’s ears like velvet. He took her hand, his multitude of weapons shifted and clanged as he bent over the back of her hand. His eyes never left hers, and she thought she might just get lost in their depths. Her heart fluttered when his wet lips brushed across her knuckles.

  “Nice to meet you,” Margaret blushed.

  “Vince, aren’t you supposed to finish your patrol?” Samuel barked from a few feet away.

  Adelaide slapped Samuel on the shoulder. “Leave them alone!”

  “Yes, sir,” Vincent said. He glanced at Margaret one last time before fading into the shadows of an alley.

  Margaret sighed.

  “That was good work with the necromancer,” Samuel told her.

  “Very impressive,” Addie agreed.

  “I agree,” Margaret said. She held up her short sword, slicked with necromancer and ghoul blood. “And I think this little beast has earned a spot on our trophy wall.”

  Samuel nodded, and for a moment a swell of pride chased the butterflies away…but only for a moment.

  Off the coast of North Shore, far out to see and away from Danthea, a cloud of bats fluttered through the night. Beady red eyes and a storm of leather wings tore through the air.

  On the coast, standing on a rock above the cresting waves, a white haired man watched them come. His dark clothing kept him camouflaged against the deep of night in the deep of the night against the blackened Sea of Sorrows. He drew up his hood to shield himself from the glow of the blood moon.

  The bats coalesced above the man, spiraled down to the ground, and formed into the figure of a tall man. Finally, the bats melted away revealing a stranger to Danthea. The vampire was tall, well-muscled, and with a face pitted and ruined from battle. His eyes glowed an angry, hungry red. His mouth was a thin circle of lips that the white-haired man knew could rosebud out into a pit of teeth, ready for feeding.

  It was sheer will on the man’s part that the master vampire didn’t take him then. A tenuous touch of mancy kept the vampire in check.

  You have people to cull? The vampire asked in more thought than anything else.

  The white-haired man motioned to a log cabin on the coast. “You can start here.”

  The vampire floated toward the house. When he reached the Welsh home, he found the door unlocked.

  If you enjoyed The Dead of Sanguine Night you might also enjoy A Plague of Shadows Click here to start now!

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