‘But the Prince of Forever struck back, and I cried out as those diamond-hard nails tore through Aaron’s face, opening the lordling’s cheek to the bone. I heard de Coste’s ribs shatter as a blow struck his chest, sending him sailing back across the bridge.
‘“De Coste!”
‘“Gabriel.”
‘I turned towards the vampire, once more circling the outskirts of my light. I was alone now, in an ocean of darkness. I remembered Skyefall, the blood of little Claude de Blanchet boiling under my hand. But if that gift was still mine, I’d no clue how to conjure it. Laure’s eyes were fixed on me, framed by flame-red hair, lips parted ever so slight. She ran her tongue along her teeth, bloody fingertips across the gaping wound at her throat, roaming down the hourglass of her body and pressing hard between her legs.
‘“I feel the want in thee, frailblood. I feel the fear. I know what thou didst to thy poor Ilsa. Thy terror, that ye might do the same to thy dear Astrid. But no weak and feeble flesh have I, to break upon thy stone. Thou canst hurt me, Gabriel. As much as ye want.”
‘She was hideous. She was evil incarnate. But God help me, she was beautiful and dark as the end of all days. I swallowed hard. Thinking of Ilsa’s blood pulsing into my mouth. The perfume of Astrid’s blood in the air. Laure prowled back and forth before me, but I swear I could feel her behind me, hands running down my bare chest, my belly, lower and lower still. She looked at the pocket where Astrid’s portrait was folded. Biting her lip and shivering as her teeth cut deep, blood on her mouth.
‘“Let me kiss thee, Gabriel. Let me kiss thee in places mortal girls fear to tread.”
‘I looked to my comrades, the fallen swords and broken bones. I could’ve run. Turned my back and fled to the cathedral, even now tolling the turn to San Maximille’s Day. But to retreat was to leave my brothers to their deaths.
‘“It shall be bliss,” Laure promised. “I shall be the goddess ye die for.”
‘And looking at those bright red lips, those slender hands and bloody curves, I wondered again what it might be like, to die in pleasure instead of pain. How it might actually feel to have those teeth slip into my skin. Taken instead of taking.
‘“Kiss me. Just once, Gabriel. Kiss me.”
‘I felt my hand falling to my side. The light about me fading, only the lion on my chest burning now, dim and water-thin. The vampire’s smile widened, and she stepped closer. Her throat was shattered where Aaron and Greyhand had driven their blades into her flesh, and I could feel the chill off her skin, smell the blood and death and dirt as she enfolded me in her arms. Her lips drifted close and closer to mine. My whole body thrilled at her touch. And mouthing a prayer to the Almighty, I struck the fuse on my final silverbomb, and pushed it through the wound in her neck.
‘The explosion tore through her body, blasting me backwards. Silver fire scorched Laure’s flesh, turning marble to ebony. Her shoulder and throat split apart, a blow no ordinary coldblood could have withstood. But though she staggered, still that unholy bitch didn’t fall, face twisted with pain and fear as her beautiful silken dress caught fire.
‘I dragged myself upwards as the flames took hold, and Laure began to scream as I skidded to my knees at Greyhand’s side. My master was unconscious, but still he breathed, and I slung him over my back as Laure whirled and shrieked, tearing at her dress before she became a pillar of flame. Next, I ran to Talon, the seraph gasping with agony as I hauled him up, “COME ON!” And last, I reached de Coste, his face ripped bloody, his chest shredded. Lifting him under one arm, Talon beside me and Greyhand over my shoulder, we ran. Down cobbled streets, past terrified townsfolk, and finally, out into the grand square. And there it stood, midnight tolling in the belfry: a circle of marble and gothic spires, reaching up to the heaven that had perhaps not yet abandoned us.
‘Coste Cathedral.
‘I kicked open the doors, staggered onto holy ground. Talon slumped across the threshold, his stomach a torn and bleeding mess. I lowered Greyhand to the floor, propping Aaron against the wall and pressing my hand to his bloody brow.
‘“De Coste?” I whispered. “Do you hear me?”
‘“I hear thee.”
‘My belly filled with ice as I turned to the square outside. And there she stood, naked and blackened. The once-flawless alabaster of her skin was a ruin, bone gleaming beneath the shattered fa?ade. Her flame-red hair was ashes.
‘But still, still Laure lived.
‘“There is no God that shall save thee from me,” she vowed. “I am a Prince of Forever, and forever shall I hunt thee. All thou hast, shall I take. All thou art, shall I unmake. And in the end, I shall have thee on thy knees, frailblood. I shall taste thee unto dying.”
‘Laure glanced down the street towards the sound of ringing horns, ironshod boots on snow-clad stone. Baron de Coste had at last mustered his men; soldiers with burning pitch and blazing torches. Wounded as she was, the vampire could still have sown ruin among them like a farmer in the fields. But in truth, she had no need to fight. She’d already done what she came to Coste to do. And after all, she could wait forever.
‘“All Shall Kneel.”
‘She was gone. A blink, and she no longer stood there, leaving the square abandoned. My mouth was dust. Hands shaking. But against impossible odds, we lived.
‘“F-foolish … l-little bastard.”
‘I looked to Greyhand. The wreckage of his face. The slowly bleeding gouge where his swordarm used to be. I searched about us, tearing a tapestry from the cathedral wall to wrap around his shoulders. He was paleblood, and the bleeding wouldn’t kill him. But the fact that he was conscious at all proved how deep the silver ran in his bones.
‘“I told you t-to run,” he whispered. “Disobedience will be the d-death of you, boy.”
‘I looked to Aaron. To Talon. To my master. All of us such strange bedfellows, with little in common save the sin of our birth. But still. But still …
‘“Perhaps so, Master. But my brothers are the hill I die on.”
‘Aaron managed a sneer. His wounds cut down over his brow and through his cheek, ripped by Laure’s talons. I knew he’d carry that scar the rest of his life.
‘“Fine s-sentiment. But I can’t help n-noticing you’re n-not dead, de León.”
‘“There’s always tomorrow.” My eyes returned to the place Laure Voss had stood. Her promise still hanging in the air. “This Hunt isn’t over.”
‘“But so far, all for n-naught. We’ve still no idea why sh-she was here.”
‘A shrill cry split the night. I looked to the cathedral square, saw the first of the Baron’s men moving in, swords and burning torches in hand. But above their heads, a grey falcon swooped out of the dark. Archer wheeled once, then flew in through the cathedral doors, wings whipping the blood-soaked hair about my face. Wounded as he was, Greyhand managed a smile, and I sighed in wonder when I saw what Archer carried in his talons.
‘A dead white raven.
‘“Clever boy,” Greyhand nodded. “My clever, clever boy.”
‘The falcon rasped as I crawled over to his prize. I unpicked the black bow, unfurled the strip of parchment bound to the dead raven’s leg. Looking over the message, I saw it was a tiny map of the Godsend Mountains, painted in an exquisite hand. Fine, flowing script detailed the towns that dotted the range – population, assets, garrisons of men. Black arrows swept down from the north, pointing towards Coste, Tolbrook, Skyefall, and then out into the Nordlund itself. And despite my wounds, I came to my feet, blood running cold as I realized what I held in my shaking hands.