“We’ve got this,” Tyler said with his usual swagger.
Mrs. Girard’s head snapped up at once. “They’re here,” she said. “Stay behind me for now, Aidan. When I present you, look them in the eye. Do not let them cow you.”
I bristled at her implication. Aidan wouldn’t cower, and neither would the rest of us. We were warriors—the Winterhaven Warriors.
Aidan turned to face me. Whatever happens, Vi, I love you. Heart and soul, never forget it.
Never, I answered. I have faith in you. In all of us.
And then they began to file in silently from the back of the space, filling in the shadows with their ranks.
Who are they? I asked Aidan.
Propagators, mostly. Females with their consorts. There’s the leader of the Wampiri from Russia, and behind her, leaders of the ancient tribes, mostly from Eastern Europe and the Far East. And the rest . . . just opportunists, I suppose.
There were so many of them. My wrist was burning now—a sharp, throbbing pain—my bracelet’s bloodstones glowing eerily alongside the moonstones. Without even thinking about it, my mind reached out for Matthew.
Megvéd.
And then he was there, inside my head. His mind was deadly calm, sharply focused. Binding my thoughts to his, I was able to find my center. A quiet determination settled over my consciousness.
Yeah, we had this.
Mrs. Girard stepped forward. “Bonsoir,” she called out loudly, her voice reverberating against walls. “I’m glad you’ve come. Tonight, the High Tribunal will be restored.”
A female vampire stepped forward, clearly their leader. She was striking, tall and inhumanly pale, her blond hair falling in loose waves down her back. “You haven’t the Eldest, Nicole Girard,” she said, her voice sharp. “But we do. You have no authority here.”
“On this night, we begin a new era of rule,” Mrs. Girard argued. “I’ve something far more powerful than the Eldest, you see. I have the one with royal blood, the one who cannot be destroyed by our kind, the one who controls every breed of slayer, who will lead us into a peaceful era of coexistence with our mortal counterparts.” She paused a beat for emphasis, smiling broadly now. “I have the Dauphin.”
She turned and gestured toward Aidan, who strode forward without a backward glance, taking his place by Mrs. Girard’s side.
The woman threw back her head and laughed. “Surely you jest, Nicole. Look at him—he’s a just a boy, a male, the weaker of our species. He’s no leader, no threat to us.”
“You underestimate him, Galina. I suggest you tread carefully,” Mrs. Girard warned.
On my unspoken command, Matthew and I moved forward in perfect unison, taking our places beside Aidan.
“And you’ve brought some mortals, I see,” the woman called Galina said, her voice laced with amusement. “Are they a part of this new era, as well?”
Even before she’d finished speaking, the two male vampires who’d been standing behind her moved forward menacingly. I saw that one carried a sword, the other a brightly lit torch. One to behead, the other to burn—a vampire assassin squad. I had only to breach the mind of the one with the sword for a split second to know their intent—they were going for Aidan, not for me and Matthew. After all, what were two mortals to them but a minor nuisance, like a pair of harmless flies?
Instantaneously, I transmitted the knowledge I’d gleaned from the vampire’s mind to Matthew, as well as my own plan of attack. A mere fraction of a second had passed—just the time it took to blink an eye—and we launched into action.
As the vampire on the left lifted his sword to strike, Aidan’s flashed out, blade meeting blade in an ear-splitting clank. At that moment, Matthew’s baselard flew through the air, into the eye of the vampire carrying the torch. When the vampire wielding the sword turned to see what had caused his companion to cry out, Matthew’s second baselard hit its mark at the precise moment that I drove my stake through the first vampire’s heart. I paused only a second before pulling my stake from the gaping wound.
And then, like a well-timed pas de deux, Matthew and I wheeled around each other so that I could stake the second vampire while he retrieved his baselard from our first victim’s corpse.
A split second later, Aidan joined in our dance, slicing the vampires’ heads off in two neat strokes while Matthew, who’d somehow managed to catch the torch before it hit the ground, laid fire to the bodies.
I watched with satisfaction as both corpses burst into all-consuming flames that somehow extinguished themselves in a matter of seconds, leaving nothing behind but a rotten stench and a pile of ashes.
There was a brief moment of stunned silence, and then chaos erupted, the din rising like the buzz of angry insects.
A second and third pair advanced on us as Mrs. Girard’s guards pressed into action, encircling us and managing to hold back the rest of our would-be attackers while we efficiently dispatched two females and then two more males. Matthew and I moved as one, in perfect synchronicity, his blades flying, my stakes hitting their mark again and again while inhuman shrieks pierced the air.
In the center of the fray stood Tyler, his sword meeting several different blades, often at once. Like the gifted fencer he was, he managed to deflect or avoid each blow, ducking and twisting, wielding the heavy weapon as if it weighed nothing at all. He somehow managed to disable several pairs of would-be attackers as they headed toward Matthew, Aidan, and me. I could only assume he was messing with their molecules the same way he had with Aidan’s that day in the chapel. I have no idea how he was able to do it while wielding his sword, though—talk about multitasking. I wondered if Marissa was somehow lending him a hand in the calm and focused department.
And then another pair broke through the line. A dense fog—created by Joshua, no doubt—cut them off from the rest of our enemies. Hidden from view, Matthew and I took them down, one right after the other. This scenario played out over and over again. The fog, the blade, the stake, Aidan’s sword—it repeated itself like a loop as the beheaded bodies collected on the floor, just waiting to be burned into oblivion.
And then at last the howling mob retreated. They backed away, surveying the carnage from a safe distance as Aidan, Matthew, and I regrouped, our weapons held at the ready as Tyler and Joshua joined the guards to form a protective semicircle around us.
And then my heart leapt into my throat as Aidan stepped forward, past the guards, his bloodied sword held aloft in victory. “I am Aidan Gray,” he said, his voice loud and clear and sure. “I am your Dauphin, son of Edward VII, King of England. I alone control the Sâbbat and her Megvéd. The prophecy says I cannot be destroyed, not by my kind, and you’ve seen proof of that here today.”
He strode back and forth as he spoke, his spine straight, his head held high. “I’m offering you a choice—we can continue this stand, destroying you one by one, sending you straight to hell where you belong. Or you can crawl back to wherever you’ve come from and tell your people what you’ve seen.
“Tell them this: Eldest rule is no longer,” he said, his voice echoing throughout the chamber. “Nicole Girard, creator of your Dauphin, retains the title of chairwoman of the High Tribunal. Each tribe, each coven that has existed in accordance with the code of laws, will choose their representative to govern beside her.
“Mark my words—indifference to the law will no longer be tolerated. Executions will be swift and efficient. If anyone here doubts me, I suggest you challenge me now, on this ground.” He paused, his gaze sweeping over what was left of them.