As Blake watched, he saw Sera suddenly appear, out of the shadows, waiting for her moment.
She stepped up behind Samuel with a silver dagger, and raised it high. Blake could see that she was about to plunge it into his neck.
Blake sprang into action. He dove down, aiming right for the dagger, using every ounce of his will to get there as fast as he could. He sped through the air, hand out, and reached it at the very last second. As the tip of the knife was a millimeter from Samuel’s neck, Blake managed to grab Sera’s wrist, and tackle her to the ground.
On the ground, wrestling with Sera, in the thick of all the fighting, Blake felt himself get kneed hard in the solo plexus. Sera had managed to lift her knee, and knock the wind out of him.
Blake rolled on his side, and before he could catch his breath, he found himself kicked in the face by several other vampires, falling on him like ants.
But Blake also noticed that Sera had dropped her dagger, and in one motion, he managed to roll over, snatch it, roll one more time, and then take a knee and throw it, hoping his aim was perfect.
It was. Sera had not expected it, and the dagger lodged perfectly in her throat. Seconds later, she collapsed, eyes wide open in shock. Blake watched her fall, finally, dead.
But Sera and McCleod were but minor victories. Blake was still terribly outnumbered, as was Samuel, and with every passing second, dozens more vampires pounced on them. Blake found himself getting kicked and punched left and right.
As he stumbled back, trying to fight off ten men at once, trying to catch his breath, the other vampires suddenly parted ways for Rynd, who now faced off with him. Blake squared off, while at the same time, he noticed that Samuel, several feet away, was squaring off with Kyle.
Blake went blow for blow with Rynd, using long swords and shields; but he was no match, he knew, for Rynd’s evil power. Rynd was too well-rested, too fast, too strong, too treacherous. And Blake could see, out of the corner of his eye, that Samuel was not doing much better. Kyle had him, too, on the ropes.
Blake felt himself losing with each passing blow, and knew that it would only be a matter of minutes until he, and Samuel, were both dead. He only prayed that his final moments could be his most valiant ones on earth.
Suddenly, Blake sensed a disturbance in the crowd. There was a murmur, then agitation, and then he noticed scores of the enemy start to run, to scurry away.
Blake could not understand what was happening. Until finally, he saw what it was.
Approaching the battlefield was Caitlin’s brother. Sam. Blake could not believe it. He had never seen anyone look so embittered, so vicious. He didn’t even recognize him. Sam looked like a man possessed, like he had been to the depths of hell and back. He fought with a power and courage and ferocity that Blake had never before witnessed. He sliced through vampire after vampires as if slicing through butter, leaving a trail of dead bodies in his wake. He was cutting his way through the crowd, and heading right for Rynd. And he had a deadly vengeance in his eyes.
Not a moment too soon for Blake. Rynd brought down a vicious blow, right for Blake’s head, and Blake held up his own sword with two hands, blocking it. He held the sword at bay, just inches from his face. But Rynd’s sword was inching lower, and Blake knew that he had but seconds left to live.
But that was all he needed. Sam cut his way through the crowd and reached Rynd just in time, kicking him so hard that Rynd went flying like a ragdoll across the field.
Blake, grateful, wanted to thank Sam. But he saw that he couldn’t: Sam’s face was like that of a wild animal, not even recognizable, and Blake felt scared just looking at it. In fact, Blake wanted to run, and knew he should get out of Sam’s path. But he was frozen in fear, and he had to see what happened next.
Blake looked over and saw that Rynd, upon looking up at Sam, was terrified, too. He never thought he would see a creature like Rynd be scared of anything—but the look on Sam’s face had done it to him. Blake wondered what could have happened to Sam to make him like this.
And then he remembered: Polly. Sam was on a path of vengeance.
Sam took three huge steps, and raised his sword high, right for Rynd.
Rynd held up his own sword to block it, but Sam brought down his sword with such power that it cut Rynd’s sword clean in half.
Rynd, shocked, looked up at his own sword in wonder.
Sam then leaned back and kicked Rynd’s wrist, sending the hilt of his sword flying, and in the same motion, kicked Rynd hard in the chest, sending him flying back and crashing into the stone wall of the castle.
Without missing a beat, Sam stepped up, grabbed Rynd by the hair, and smashed his head into the stone wall repeatedly, again and again and again. Rynd was helpless in Sam’s grip.
In moments, Rynd was near dead. But Sam was not finished. He hoisted Rynd up high over his shoulders, and then in two leaps, he jumped to the top of the castle parapets. Blake was shocked. It must have been at least a hundred feet, yet Sam did it effortlessly. Then Sam jumped, holding Rynd, off the roof, and aimed right for the huge lance implanted at the entranceway. He impaled Rynd’s body through it, right through his heart. Rynd’s body slid all the way through the lance, down to the base, killing him instantly.
Rynd’s body sat there, impaled on the lance for all eyes to see, as Sam stood over him.
But Sam wasn’t done yet. Whatever rage was driving him hadn’t been satisfied. Sam looked left and right, snarling, like a wild animal ready to kill anything in its path.
Seeing the look on Sam’s face, Blake finally summoned the courage to flee, and he saw that Samuel did, too. All of Rynd’s men were fleeing, too, as were all of McCleod’s men. Apparently, with their leaders dead and a monster on the prowl, none of them wanted to linger any longer. They fled into the sky, over the lake, back from where they’d come, and they could not move fast enough.
Within moments, the entire battlefield had cleared out.
Except, that is, for Sam.
And one other: Kyle.
CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE
Kyle had been having a field day. He hadn’t had this much fun in centuries, slaughtering Aiden’s men left and right. It had been a route.
It had been especially fun stabbing Taylor through the heart, watching her die slowly at his feet.
These silvertip weapons were the strongest and most effective he had ever wielded, and after killing Taylor, he had killed a dozen more vampires in just a few minutes. He was covered in their blood, and he smiled widely, beginning to feel himself again.