Page 28 of The Rising Dark
“Octavia, you stay here.I’m not risking you in the field with a head wound.”Octavia nodded sharply, the bright white bandage bobbing.
“The civilians should be safe here.Octavia said they weren’t followed.Worst case scenario, the humans sit tight until we return.A couple of rogues aren’t blasting through the front door any time soon.”Luce’s fist jammed the button expertly camouflaged among the paintings lining the wall, and all over the house the emergency shutters clattered closed, cloaking the room in darkness.Seconds later, emergency lights flickered to life overhead, bathing them all in a soft reddish glow.
The Sisters filed out in a flurry of activity, not bothering to present their human-like front.Their Sisters had been hurt, and whoever was responsible would pay for it with their life.
Lavinia ran down the stairs, taking four at a time.The armoury was next to the gym, holding the Sisterhood’s wide assortment of weapons.Lavinia strapped on her armour, the Kevlar-reinforced leather moulded perfectly to the contours of her body.She tied her sword sheath around her waist, slid her twin daggers into their thigh holsters.Beside her, Quintia grabbed her quarterstaff, weighing it in her hand for a moment, swinging it experimentally in a couple of short jabs, before moving to adjust the straps on her leather bracers.
Returning to the ground floor of the mansion, Lavinia found Michelle standing beside the still unconscious Proserpina, taking her pulse with her index and middle finger.She looked up when Lavinia strode into the room, her eyes widening.
Her mouth opened, as if she meant to speak.Then she closed it, swallowed, and said, “What’s happening?”
“We’re leaving.How’s she doing?”
“Okay for now.The blood she drank must have helped.The chest wound is no longer bleeding much.”
“The sun is setting.She might wake up once the moon rises.”Lavinia could already feel the tingle of power creeping across her flesh, suffusing her muscles, her bones.The prospect of battle under the stars electrified her, drew her outdoors.But then, there was also Michelle, gazing at her with dilated pupils, grounding her in the present.
“Please be careful,” Michelle said, and grasped Lavinia’s hand.The soft heat of her hand was a shock on Lavinia’s sensitised skin.Their fingers intertwined, the call of the moon and stars singing in harmony with the touch, sending a pleasurable shiver down her spine.She had never felt anything like it.
“Always,” she said.Her voice was low with the unexpected cocktail of sensations.Battle was no longer on her mind.Her bloodlust transfused into something different, something even more potent.Lavinia looked at Michelle anew, drinking her in: her soft brown eyes, creased at the corners with laughter lines.Her mahogany hair shone gold in the light of the emergency lamps.Her full lips were slightly parted, revealing just a sliver of the pearl of her teeth.Michelle’s heartbeat drummed in the palm of her hand, and her scent suffused the air.Lavinia’s teeth ached, she pulled their joint hands slightly closer, narrowing the distance between them until their bodies stood flush together…
The reinforcements of the front door opened, the clank reverberating through the house.The ugly sound ran as a shock through them both, reminding them where they were.
“I have to go,” Lavinia said.Michelle nodded, and with an effort that seemed herculean, Lavinia let go of her hand.It was an acute loss.All she wanted was to close that distance between them again, breathe her in, feel her skin against hers.But battle called, and Lavinia had a duty to fulfil.
She didn’t look back when she joined her Sisters on the front steps.She couldn’t risk looking back.If she did, she would want to throw herself at Michelle’s feet.The stars hummed overhead, the night clear and crisp.The moon was rising, its sickle shining brightly on the navy-blue horizon.Luce, Quintia, and Vesta stood at her sides.They drank in the power of the night.Their senses sharpened.Their muscles trembled with unspent energy.
The rogues wouldn’t know what hit them.
* * *
The rogues were holed up in a run-down cottage nestled between two hills.Octavia had shared the coordinates, leading the Sisters straight to their doorstep.If the rogues had been smart, they would have fled the scene the moment Octavia and Pina had retreated, but rogues weren’t guided by reason.They were animalistic, instinct-driven.And when their territory was invaded, they dug in deeper, entrenching themselves.
It certainly wasn’t a very promising fortress.The cottage had been made of the rough-hewn grey stone common in the area, but its roof had partially collapsed years ago.Ivy and brambles covered parts of the ruins.It would have seemed uninhabited, one of the many abandoned ancient buildings that were found throughout the valleys of the Pennines, their gardens overrun and almost inaccessible.It could have been one of many of those innocuous places, home to foxes and other wildlife, if it wasn’t for the smell of blood.Vampire blood.
Lavinia drew her sword from its sheath.The only sound was a slight breeze rustling in the foliage overhead.The leather grip fit perfectly in her hand, the silver-plated blade meticulously crafted by the Blacksmith catching the pale light of the moon.The sword had been presented to her when she joined the Sisterhood, so many years ago.It would taste the blood of rogues again tonight.
Several paces away, Vesta crept through waist-high grass.Luce and Quintia had gone around the back of the cottage, cutting off any possibility of escape.No lights burned within the cottage.Perhaps they were afraid.Perhaps they didn’t have any lights at all.Not that they needed any.The stars were bright tonight, casting enough light for Lavinia’s eyes to see every blade of grass in sharp relief.
A shuffle and a hushed word sounded from within.They were still here, no doubt about it.The Sisters could have tried to lure them out, but that would defeat the element of surprise.In front of Lavinia a window gaped into the night, its glass panes broken decades ago.Its wooden shutters hung decayed from rusted hinges, providing no protection whatsoever.Nothing was visible through it.The Sisters creeped forward, the grass of the overgrown garden whispering at their touch.Vesta would take the equally rotten front door.
They were in position.Lavinia held up her hand, meeting Vesta’s burning eyes for a moment.They counted down together.One breath.Second breath.Third.
They flew forward.
Lavinia leapt through the window, landing on something soft and uneven.She rolled over her shoulder to arrest her momentum.A grunt arose from behind her.She’d jumped straight onto one of the rogues.Vesta kicked through the rotten wood of the door, the remains of it slamming against the wall.Not waiting to see the rogues’ response to this, Lavinia swerved and stabbed the rogue she had landed on straight through the heart.Her sword disappeared into his chest, a look of surprise on his haggard features.A cry rose from behind her, and she ducked as a piece of furniture whistled overhead.A stool they had found in some corner, probably.Lavinia pulled her sword free and faced the second attacker.
She only had enough time to see two bloodshot eyes surrounded by dark, matted hair before the rogue dashed forward with a bone-curdling shriek.Her dirty, wiry arms lifted the stool overhead again and again, bashing the piece of furniture at Lavinia in a desperate frenzy.Lavinia warded off blow after blow, pieces of wood shattering against her armoured forearm.Bruises were forming underneath, but the ferocity of the attack distracted her from the pain.She pressed on, swiping her sword, but the rogue easily leapt from its path.With one final crash, the stool split in two, and, with a roar, the rogue wielded the two pieces as if they were daggers.
“Vin!”Vesta shouted, and Lavinia stepped out of the path of a third rogue barely in time.He stumbled across the floor, clutching a rusting knife in his hand.The female rogue used Lavinia’s momentary distraction to lunge, aiming the chair leg at Lavinia’s torso.Lavinia partially redirected the blow with her left arm, but the wood still connected in a glancing hit, tearing through the leather at her side.They were fast, these rogues.Strong, too.
Behind the female rogue, Quintia struggled to hold one of them down while Luce aimed her spear at them.Before the spear impaled them, they struggled free, tearing away from Quintia’s hands.The spear’s metal tip struck the empty ground where they had lain only a moment ago.
There was no time to consider this, as the man who had stumbled past her now zeroed in on Lavinia.As she warded off his lightning-fast attempts to stab her with the pommel of her blade, the woman circled her, trying to find her back exposed.Lavinia stepped backwards, keeping them both within view, swiping with her sword to make the man jump away.The cottage was small, only two rooms connected through an archway, and there was little space to manoeuvre.She had to move, or she would risk being pinned against the wall.
She kicked out at the female rogue, surprising her as she had been expecting another attack from the sword.Lavinia’s foot connected squarely with her solar plexus, and she staggered.Again, the man lunged, this time aiming at Lavinia’s unprotected face.She dodged, not quite enough, the knife slicing open skin at her cheekbone.She ignored it, using the moment of his overextension to draw a dagger from her thigh holster and stab upwards, through his neck.The man fell forward, hot blood pouring over Lavinia’s boots, twitching as he died.
His death produced a frenzy in the female rogue.Without a care for her safety, she jumped at Lavinia, the full weight of her body slamming Lavinia into the rough stone of the cottage’s wall.Sharp pain bloomed across the back of her hip, a piece of stone crashing against bone.The sharp smell of sweat and old blood filled Lavinia’s nostrils as the rogue snarled at her, revealing short, misshapen fangs.The teeth clacked inches away from Lavinia’s neck, her shoulder muscles straining to keep the woman from reaching her target.The woman’s hands formed claws and tore at her face, her armour, fingers reddened by Lavinia’s blood.
