Page 99 of Caller of Crows
Nephariel was far from beaten, though. After all, he had onlyjuststrengthened himself with mortal blood. He wrapped his legs around Altair's waist and flipped them, pinning Altair beneath his weight. When Altair struggled, he grabbed a handful of hair at the back of Altair's head and slammed Altair's head against the stone floor. "Fuck you, bastard," Nephariel hissed down at him. "You're going to pay for this. You're going to pay for everything."
He leaned down over Altair, fangs elongated. He was going to bite, Sven knew he was. He also knew that Nephariel wasn't going to stop until he'd takenallof Altair's blood.
And Sven just stood there, watching. Useless.
No.
He had to do something.
His gaze fell on a glint of metal on the floor. Altair's knife. He must have dropped it while he was grappling with Nephariel on the floor.
Sven dove for the weapon and picked it up with a shaking hand. It felt cool against his fingers, heavier than he expected.
When he looked back at the vampires, Nephariel had shifted so that he was straddling Altair's torso, keeping him trapped. Nephariel bent forward and wrapped one hand around Altair's chin, holding him still. Altair struggled under his grasp but wasn't strong enough to break the other vampire's grip. Nephariel tightened his hold and yanked Altair's head sideways, baring the curve of his neck and making it vulnerable.
Sven didn't have any more time to think—his feet took action on their own, carrying him toward the fighting duo. Once he reached them, he pointed the tip of the knife straight at Nephariel's heart, ready to strike. He had never stabbed anyone before, but…
He had to do this.
Before he could do anything, though, Nephariel turned and gave Sven a wicked grin. "You want me to let go of your lover? You gonna use that blade?"
"Let him go," Sven demanded. "I swear I'll kill you otherwise."
Nephariel laughed his cold, mocking laugh that sent shivers down Sven's spine. "Fine then, pet. Go ahead." He tightened his grip on Altair's neck, squeezing harder, making Altair gasp. Then he waited, staring up at Sven with cold, emotionless eyes, waiting for Sven to attack him.
But Sven had never hurt anyone.
And stabbing a man sounded much easier in theory than it was in reality.
"Can't do it, can you?" Nephariel laughed again. "Pathetic mortal."
Sven hesitated for one more second, and then he knew what he had to do. He gripped the knife firmly in his hand and then brought the blade down with one decisive move—slashing his own wrist.
Nephariel stared in confusion, but Sven paid him no mind. He pressed his bleeding wrist to Altair's lips, hoping to heal him, to give him strength.
Altair's mouth immediately latched onto Sven's pulse point. He sucked greedily at Sven's skin, swallowing great gulps of blood before Nephariel could stop him.
Then there was movement. Sven registered it a second too late, barely managing to pull his wrist back before Nephariel's hand swiped at him. Pain radiated through his chest, his lungs constricting painfully. He staggered backward, struggling to stay on his feet.
The next instant, Altair rose to full height. He grabbed Nephariel by the throat with both hands and pinned his brother to the ground. There was no more hesitation, no more holding back, no more 'next time's. Crows manifested around Altair like a dark storm of feathers and claws. Sven watched in horrified fascination as they swooped toward Nephariel with harsh caws that reverberated through the dungeon like the screams of the damned. They pecked and clawed at Nephariel ruthlessly, drawing blood as they tore into his flesh. Nephariel writhed in pain and fought against Altair's hold on him, but Altair held him fast and wouldn't release him, growling as he pulled his brother close and bit deeply into his exposed neck.
The smell of copper and iron filled the air. Nephariel struggled against Altair, kicking out wildly, scratching desperately at the stone underneath him, trying to drag himself away as Altair's fangs sank deeper. Blood stained Altair's mouth and teeth, turning his lips crimson. Red liquid gushed everywhere, coating everything in its path, soaking into Altair's clothes, pooling beneath their bodies, seeping into the cracks between the tiles.
A small part of Sven realized that he probably should have been terrified by the sight of someone being torn apart, but instead, he was just relieved that Altair wasn't on the losing side anymore.
When Nephariel stopped twitching, Altair ripped Nephariel's heart from his chest, crushing it in his hand and throwing it aside for his birds to feast on. His breath was ragged, his chest rising and falling rapidly. The veins beneath his pale skin bulged, dark blue lines stretching across the surface of his arms and neck. He looked so frightening. And so beautiful. Like an avenging angel.
Sven shivered.
Altair blinked down at the body beneath him, a blank expression on his face. Then he got up and walked toward Sven. When he reached him, Altair pulled Sven to his feet and examined him. His gaze traveled over every inch of Sven's skin, stopping on his chest where Nephariel had struck earlier, and on his slashed wrist, which was still bleeding. Wordlessly, he lifted Sven's wrist to his lips once more, using some sort of vampire magic to seal the wound. It tingled but felt amazingly soothing. Sven watched in wonder, unable to look away. Altair then brushed his thumb over Sven's collarbone gently. He cupped Sven's cheek, caressing it tenderly before bringing their mouths together for a soft kiss. "It's done," he murmured softly against Sven's lips.
Sven relaxed into his embrace, his head spinning from relief and exhaustion both.
"What about Rhyme?" he asked. "Is Rhyme okay?"
Altair paused for a moment, glancing back at the boy behind him. "We'll take him with us."
Sven closed his eyes in gratitude. He hugged Altair tight against him and buried his face against the other man's neck.
