Luke Irontree & the Last Vampire War (Books 8-10), page 90
He struggled back to his feet and cut his way ward a nook and tucked in just in time as the grenade exploded. Tearing limbs, undeath, and screams from the vampires. Yet they still came.
Breathing heavily, he reengaged. He had no idea how much more he had left in him at that point. His arms burned from the exertion. Soon, he’d have to choose between death and potential self-destruction. But if he delayed in making the decision, he’d likely not have enough left to finish why he’d come here.
He cut his way back into the center of the cave and set up a defensive pattern to create a bit of space, then focused his concentration and thrust it out through his rudis. The incantation surged through his mind and out through the wooden blade. The room burst into light as golden threads connected with the horde of vampires. Before they could recover, he yanked back on the rudis and ripped every last bit of life force from them.
The golden globules slammed into his rudis, knocking him to his knees. He couldn’t lower his arm, the rudis and energy feeding through it into him locked him into place until the last one disappeared into the wooden sword. He fell onto his hands and vomited until he was left with nothing but dry heaves.
Random trembles shook through his body as he held himself aloft on his hands and knees. He needed to move away from his mess. The stench of bile was becoming overwhelming. Instead of risking standing and falling into his mess, he opted to push to the side and roll onto his back. At least he could face away from it.
He wanted to lie there and gasp in breaths, but the dark entity beckoned to him. He had work to do still. Rolling onto his belly, he pushed himself up and stumbled to his feet.
His entire body vibrated as if it were going to fly apart at the seams. Sucking in a harsh, deep breath, he closed his eyes and focused. He could fly apart later. Right now, he had to find Saubarag, and maybe then, the energy threatening to shatter him would be useful.
Staggering forward, he followed the tendrils, looking for their origin. With each step and each breath, he found a way to contain the energy ricocheting around inside him. Not even really seeing where he went, he homed in and followed the trace like a bloodhound. Occasionally, he bounced off a wall as he picked up speed into a shambling run.
“Luke? Luke!”
Shaking his head, he focused on the sound. Roxi? It was her. A relieved cry fell from his lips as he pulled her in tightly. “What…what happened?”
“I don’t know. One minute you were there, then the next you weren’t. Then I…” She let out a ragged exhale. “I had to watch you die over and over again. All the while, the smug bastard promised me he could save you if…if I gave myself to him and brought you with me.”
Pushing back a little, he saw a glint of light catch on a tear streaking down her cheek. He reached up with trembling fingers and wiped it away. “I’d never let him take you, and I’d never go to him.”
“I know.” She kissed him desperately on the cheek and forehead and finally his lips. “It just felt so real.”
He had no true idea what Saubarag had been trying to accomplish by torturing him, other than weakening him enough to seek mercy. But the petty god had bitten off more than he could chew. Shaking his head to clear it, he clenched his hands into fists to stop the trembling.
“I’m here now, Roxi. Together, he can’t hurt us. Together, we’re stronger.” He hoped she didn’t notice the shaking in his voice.
“I know.” She took a moment to breathe deeply and collect herself. “I know.”
The presence of the dark god pulled at him. They had an appointment.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“Can you find him?”
He nodded. “Follow me.”
Taking her hand, he hoped contact with her skin would help calm the energy bursting through him, or at least still the trembling in his bones. Together, they moved through the last bit of the twisting cave until they found what looked like a regular house door.
When they stepped within reach of it, he heard the faint sound of gunfire in the background. Turning his head, he looked back in the distance at the stone steps leading up to the hallway where he’d left his friends what felt like hours ago. Gunfire meant they were still alive, still fighting.
But for every moment Luke didn’t go through the door, the chance of his friends being overwhelmed grew. It was now or never.
Chapter
Thirty-One
Luke reached out, pausing a moment. The familiar darkness of Saubarag pulsed off the door handle, a tendril of it slithering through the air, searching for Luke. For something in him. Behind him, Roxi stared up the stairwell. Gunfire and small explosions drifted toward them.
Gripping the door handle, he pulled hard, stepping back but keeping his sword ready.
A dark voice chuckled from the unlit recesses of a vast cavern. “Welcome. I’m glad to see you’ve returned to me.”
Behind Luke, Roxi flicked on a flashlight, shining it between them. He took a step, entering the room.
Though the flashlight was a good one with an intense beam, the darkness swallowed it, letting little of it escape to show where they were going. After draining so many vampires out of necessity, Luke practically hummed with energy.
Concentrating, he forced a trickle out of himself into the blade. The silver-steel alloy pieces glowed gently, stopping at the tip. When he was sure he could control it in a refined manner, he drew a bit more power from himself and pushed it into the blade until it glowed far brighter than the flashlight.
Roxi clicked it off and put it away. “That’s handy.”
The darkness receded some, seeming to writhe and growl as it did so.
“My, you have become powerful, glutting on the essence of my children. You’re even more magnificent than I could imagine.” A shadowy outline emerged from the darkness, striding forward confidently.
Once the figure breached the shell of the orb of light Luke’s rudis had created, it resolved into a dark-haired man with slicked-back shoulder length hair. He wore black leather with bits of dark steel riveted on it. His thick beard was tightly cropped, though it wasn’t thick enough to hide a weak chin.
“Nice Sheriff of Nottingham cosplay,” Roxi said. “But where’s the spoon?”
A momentary flash of annoyance interrupted the calm façade he kept draped over his face. He gestured around him. “Welcome to my home.”
“Your hospitality is a bit lacking,” Luke said, since there was no one around to criticize his banter.
“If you’d just waited for an invitation, you could have been the guest of honor.” Saubarag looked him up and down. “And what a fine guest you would have made, too. You are indeed the finest of my creations.”
Luke snorted. “I’m not your creation.”
Saubarag laughed, the sound oily and hollow. “How can you claim that? Because of the creation of my children, you were brought before that fool Mithras and made a hunter. Because you feed off my children, you are immortal. You’ve honed your skills on their bodies over the centuries. Stolen their lives and picked over their clothes for your wealth. Who else can claim to have contributed so much to who you’ve become? Now you’ve come to pay homage to me and join my forces and fight at my beck and call.”
“It’s a pretty story you spin, but it’s a lie. My parents forged my character. The legions forged my arm. Mithras gave me a mission. Selene blessed and guided me. My friends have aided me over the centuries. All you’ve contributed was pain and misery.” Luke spat on the ground between Saubarag and himself.
“But pain and misery are the truest emotions. Constant and universal. They’ve driven you along your journey. They’ve caressed you while you’ve slept at night. Comforted you when you were alone. Guided you into the arms of others.” He chucked his chin toward Roxi. “Now, join me, or die.”
“The answer is the same, you disgusting little sneak thief. No. A thousand nos. So fuck off with your offer.”
“Oh? Fuck off, you say?” Saubarag raised his hand, holding it open. Then, he crushed his fingers into a fist.
Luke’s body seized up. His muscles wouldn’t respond to his brain. Pain seared every nerve ending. A scream tried to erupt through teeth clenched so tight, Luke worried they’d shatter. Saubarag yanked his hand down, and Luke fell to his knees.
“Do you like that? Your weak little god friends missed something when they pulled out the spikes I left in you.” He barked a sharp laugh. “It’s been flowing through your veins. It’s the reason you’ve grown so much since our last encounter. The reason you’re able to dominate my children. It was my insidious little gift to you. Festering and metastasizing inside you. It won’t be long until your soul will be as beautiful and dark as mine. Then, you’ll belong to me wholly.”
Tears burned from Luke’s eyes. Roxi knelt next to him, stroking his hair and whispering calming words.
Saubarag lessened his grip slightly. The relief of slightly less pain was splendid. Luke gasped in several gulps of air before the twisted god gripped his fist again, forcing the air from his lungs in a ragged scream.
“Let him go!” Roxi screamed.
“Why? He is mine to do with as I will. But perhaps he’d be more willing to join me if you had already done so, my dear.”
“I’d rather die.” She spat on the ground and reached for her sword.
“No…” Luke groaned. Those words should never be spoken to a villain.
“That can be arranged.” Saubarag yanked Luke out of the way, keeping him tightly contained, and shot out black tendrils at Roxi.
She leapt to her feet and drew her blade in one smooth motion, slashing at the nearest tendril, lopping the end of it off. The dismembered portion dissolved into smoke and dissipated. Her blade moved in fast, precise movements, carving off bits of the tendrils. But for every one she cut, two more replaced it as if she were fighting a hydra.
One wrapped itself around her ankle, and her blade arced down to slice it. But two had clamped onto her other wrist and a third had her other ankle. They pulled and ripped her off the ground. Screaming in fear and fury, she slashed at the dark ropes grasping her limbs, but soon another batch of tendrils grabbed her sword arm and shook her until she dropped it.
She punctuated her frustration and anger with screams as she tried to reach one of her other weapons. When she couldn’t reach one, she tried to bend her body to bite at the tendrils. When she got too close, one lanced out and wrapped itself around her head, muzzling her.
Despite all her limbs being captured and her mouth blocked, she fought on, thrashing and tugging with all her might. Her chest expanded and contracted like billows working too hard, her desperate breath hissing and whistling in and out of her obstructed mouth and nose.
Saubarag laughed. “My, she’s a feisty one, isn’t she? I can see why you like her. It’ll be a shame to destroy such a fine creature, but if she’s no use to me, there’s no reason for her existence to continue.”
The dark god flung Roxi against the nearest wall. Her head slammed into it and she instantly stilled, slumping and dangling from Saubarag’s creepy tentacles.
Finding a way to compartmentalize the pain being inflicted on him, he stared at Roxi, watching her chest and stomach to find out if she was still breathing. A drop of blood rolled out of her hairline and down her forehead to drip on the ground. It was joined by another and another…
Fury built inside of him, roiling in him like an explosion of flames, and he shoved the pain aside. Saubarag hadn’t created him. The god hadn’t made him more powerful. Luke was powerful. Luke was power.
The god, a smirk on his face, stared at the blood dripping, licking his lips. Fixated on his handiwork, Luke used the distraction, not sure when or if he’d get another shot at regaining control.
Gathering in all the energy he’d drained from the vampires, he built a brick against Saubarag’s control and pain, then another. Each brick grew and strengthened the wall. The more Luke stared at Roxi’s blood, the faster the work went until he’d surrounded himself in an impregnable fortress. Each breath combined with his will to add another brick.
Not used to working internally in such a manner, he needed a rest to catch his breath, though time was not a luxury he had. He hoped Saubarag was too involved with watching Roxi’s corpse, so he wouldn’t notice Luke marshaling his strength, the stolen essence from the vampires, and his fury. Whether he was truly ready or not, he had to go. Ragged energy buzzed inside him, the wall also keeping it in for the moment. Drawing in a deep breath, he forced himself upright onto his knees. Then lifted one knee to brace for the next movement.
Saubarag’s attention snapped to Luke. It was now or never. Taking his gathered power, he pushed outwards with his mind in all directions, white hot light exploding throughout his body, burning and searing every nerve with a pure hot flame. A scream erupted from his mouth, shredding his throat as he momentarily lost himself in the cleansing flames, until it wheezed to a trickle of laughter.
Relief flooded through Luke as Saubarag’s control over his body melted before the intensity coursing through his veins. Finally able to draw in a deep breath, he stoked the flames licking at the wall he’d constructed and poured in his rage at all the vile god had done to him.
Bits and pieces of the wall chipped away, turning brittle against the flames of his fury until it lost integrity and blasted outward in a surge of power. The black tentacles disintegrated before the fires of Luke’s anger, and the wall of power smacked into the god, flinging him against the back wall.
Leaping up, Luke dashed over to Roxi, ignoring the slight wobble in his legs. In the short time he had, he looked her over for vital signs but saw nothing in the dark room. Fear started to wind its way around his heart, but he could do nothing about it with Saubarag ready to strike at any second. Closing his eyes for a split second, he shoved the fear aside. Fear was a keyhole Saubarag could pick, and Luke couldn’t let him in again.
Wanting to keep the god off kilter, Luke dove back to where his gladius lay on the ground. Tucking and rolling, he snatched it up on the way by and came to his knees with the swords extended toward the god. The god’s attention was firmly fixed on Luke. Jumping to his feet, he advanced.
“You’ve made the last mistake you’ll ever make,” Luke growled out.
“See how powerful you have become thanks to me.” Saubarag straightened his tunic and strolled casually to the side, keeping the distance open between himself and Luke. “You are my creature. In time, you’ll see it.” He cackled, the noise high-pitched and unhinged. “You’ll have no choice. It would be better if you came to me now and willingly. It would be less painful for you, and you’d retain more of yourself.”
“I am not your creature! I am Lucius Silvanius Ferrata, Princeps Primus Centurio—first among centurions. Leader of the Black Legion.” He took the stolen vampiric energy coursing through his veins and pushed it into the two blades he held. They ignited with buzzing flickering energy. “Beloved of Selene, a soldier of Sol Invictus and Mithras. And one of two spears of light defending against the darkness. I am the last Gaul. The last Roman.”
With each word, the power vibrating over his sword crackled and surged. “I am my own man. I am Luke Irontree, the most feared vampire hunter ever. I am the wood-fanged demon—and more feared by your minions than you are. I am my own man, and your death I shall bring!”
Luke charged.
But before he could make contact, Saubarag blinked away, reappearing thirty yards away in full armor. In one hand, he bore a long sword in the other, a heavy mace. While the sword could cause some problems, the mace would crush his armor and shatter bones. But he didn’t care. Saubarag had hurt Roxi and maybe… He couldn’t finish the thought. The god would pay.
Luke ducked under the lumbering swing of the mace and parried the slash of the long sword. Throwing a shoulder into Saubarag’s side, Luke came up close and dragged the blade of the rudis across the underside of the god’s arm. Saubarag yowled in pain but threw his elbow backwards at Luke. Instead of ducking it, he shouldered it up so it was robbed it of most of its force as it slid over his helmet.
Pushing away with the shoulder he’d just used to deflect the blow, he smashed the gladius into the side of Saubarag’s armor, leaving a deep dent and discoloration where the energy warped the metal. Instead of facing Luke, the god blinked out and reappeared, though blood still dripped from his arm and the dent still cratered in the side of his armor.
Tossing his blades into the air, he snatched them in the opposite hands so the rudis was in his right hand. Though it was a shorter blade, it more readily wanted to accept the power Luke forced into it. And while the gladius would also take the power, he doubted he had an infinite supply of it. The gladius would have to serve as his shield and weapon of opportunity.
Stalking forward, Luke pushed more power into the rudis, drops of lightning dripping from the edge to splatter on the ground into sparking pools and sending the scent of ozone into the air. The god’s eyes shifted to the blade and the remnants of power spilling from it. Flicking the blade at the god, Saubarag jumped back as globs of silvery power flew toward him.
Luke sprinted forward, leading with the rudis held high and the gladius low and partially hidden behind his leg. Continuing to backpedal, Saubarag caught his heel, stumbled, and opened his arms to catch his balance. With a high thrust of the rudis at the god’s visor-covered face—the god flinched back violently as he flailed for balance—Luke followed through with the gladius, aiming the tip at the gap between the chest armor and the plates covering the hips and waist.
The blade bit true, and Saubarag screamed in agony. Black smoke roiled from the wound, and Luke gagged on the stench of burnt, rotting flesh. But sound slammed into Luke, knocking him backward and dislodging the blade before he could go exploring in the god’s internal organs. What blood had been on the blade hissed and sizzled as the coursing energy burned it away.
