Amaia didn’t know what Ezekial’s clan had done to precipitate this gathering, but she hoped she would at least get to fight to distract her from her own problems.
“You are here because I value your counsel,” Zenas continued, “and will depend on each of you to lead our clan on the battlefield. I have sent out the call to every member of our family. We will all fight, proving our superiority once and for all. We must not let our power be diminished.”
Ezekial’s clan was strong. Whereas Zenas sought political power, Ezekial favored brute force. His vampires were fighters. Amaia didn’t know how Zenas’s clan would fare. It was well known that Ezekial did not have the strict control over his clan that Zenas did. Ezekial allowed his members to mate with outsiders and to birth their own vampires as long as they remained loyal. This meant he wouldn’t have direct communication with all of his members the way Zenas would. Amaia had to admire the superior wisdom of Zenas’s way of ruling.
“I want our forces organized into four waves. If you look around, you’ll realize there are four pairs present. Ivan and Rodrigo, you’ll be my eyes and ears for the first wave. Sylvia and Domingo, you’ll oversee the second wave, and Lorenzo and Rebekah, you’ll take charge of the third. Lawrence will command the fourth. I plan to stomp out this menace.”
“Where do you want me?” Amaia didn’t care for Zenas, but she wasn’t foolish enough to place herself in harm’s way by not following whatever plan he had established.
“I want you back from the initial fighting. We’re going to sustain losses. I’d rather you weren’t one of them.”
Amaia didn’t mistake Zenas’s words for affection. There was no love lost between them. He only cared about her importance to him, about the knowledge she held that he did not yet possess.
“From that vantage point, you’ll be better equipped to handle any of Ezekial’s forces that break through. You and Lawrence will be with me. You’re the only one with whom I don’t have a telepathic link. I want you within voice range.”
Amaia wondered how much of Zenas’s desire to have her close was rooted in distrust. “All right. How many do you think we’ll lose?”
“It doesn’t matter, as long as we win. I can always rebuild our numbers.” Zenas was as cold and calculating as Amaia knew he would be. His clan was not a family, but a group of minions to do his bidding. Only a few, like Lawrence, even garnered his respect. “Sabine, you’ll stay here, where I won’t have to worry about you.” It seemed odd that he would worry about anyone. Was his concern really for her, or for the fate he knew awaited him should she die?
“No, I’ll stand with you.” Sabine stood tall, daring him to contradict her.
“Impossible. It will be too distracting. I need you safe.”
“You need me by your side.”
“I need you to survive.”
“Zenas, I won’t stand by as if I’m some weak mortal. Ezekial is our mutual enemy. I want to see him die.”
The vibrations of Zenas’s energy accelerated. His anxiety was real. He took Sabine’s hand and touched his forehead to hers in a gesture more intimate than Amaia thought he was capable of. There was silence between them, but only because they were communicating through their link. Amaia could practically see their argument in the struggle between their auras.
Sabine sighed. “Fine. I will stay behind.”
“Good. I’ll leave a contingent of guards with you.”
“No. You’ll need every fighter you can get. I’ll be all right. They won’t even know to look for me.”
Another moment of tense silence. “Very well, woman. But you’d better hope that if they harm you, they kill you. You won’t like what I’ll do if I find out your foolishness has injured you.”
“Of course.”
A strange pair they were. Both cold and calculating, both eager for power, and both perfectly right for each other. How was it that people such as them could find each other, but Amaia couldn’t be with the person she loved?
If she left immediately, she could be with Michelle before she died. She could cradle her in her arms. They would undress each other, make love under the stars. Amaia doubted Michelle had taken her advice. Amaia didn’t know how many more births and deaths she would have to suffer through before Michael would marry. She hoped that by breaking the cycle, it would also sever her tie to him. In order for that to happen, she had to stay away.
There was no use thinking about it. She was here, with her clan, where she belonged. Michelle wasn’t hers to worry over.
Chapter 38
Samegrelo, March 1798
The fight would start at night: a primal struggle far deeper than blood, deeper than time, back to the ancient ways, when vampires stalked the night and didn’t risk the daylight hours. This was a vampire feud. It had no place in the sun.
“I wish they would come already and get this over with.” Amaia itched for the battle to get underway.
“Patience, my dear. I wouldn’t be so anxious to see it.”
“Have you seen one of these battles before?”