I shook the thought away and said nothing. Her comrades would not believe any accusation that their leader was a dual-breed, nor would it be right to encourage the execution of anyone based on those merits. Not even Callista.
Callista’s hatred thrummed through her—hatred for the dual-breeds, herself included, and hatred for me that I’d given them my acceptance. An acceptance her father hadn’t shown when his wife’s true nature was revealed through her pregnancy with Callista. He never would have knowingly procreated with a dual-breed, especially not one who was part Strigoi.
My twinge of sadness passed as more Cruor encircled us, Marcus at their lead. He was trying to disable me—I could sense it—but my blood was rushing through my veins, washing his efforts away. Had I somehow overcome his gift, or was he too preoccupied to focus on me?
Charles, in his animal form, barreled at him. In the same instant, Callista knocked me to the ground. Wind rushed from my lungs, and I gasped for air.
I drove my knee hard into Callista’s stomach, surprising us both with my strength. Callista howled and yanked my hair, struggling to get her face close enough to bite me. She didn’t have any intention of turning me—as a dual-breed, she’d never be able to turn me herself. She merely hoped to drain me to my death.
With one foot, I rammed at her chest. I gained the advantage long enough to kick her several times in the face. Pain shot through my ankle, but I kept kicking. Black blood oozed from her nose, and she tripped backward.
I stared in disbelief. Was this part of being an elemental? Were even the mortal elementals capable of advanced strength and speed?
I scrambled across the cemetery ground, my body heavy with exhaustion. I stumbled, and my jaw crashed into the soil. Dirt pressed against my lips, gritty on my tongue and teeth. I spat and lifted a wrist to wipe my mouth.
It wasn’t long before I saw why the Ankou were present. They weren’t concerned with me. They were here for the aftermath. As each body fell to an ultimate demise, so there were the Ankou to collect the spirits, digging long, pointed fingernails into their skulls until the entities exploded into black particles.
Or, perhaps, the Ankou were intended as a distraction. As I spaced out, wondering how the Ankou could be so flawless, one of the Cruor grabbed me. I clung to a gravestone, trying to kick him away, all the while making a mental note not to look at the Ankou ever again.
Charles, now in human form and dressed only in someone else’s pants, appeared behind my captor. Though bleeding at the shoulder, he drove a stake through my attacker’s back, into the heart. The body of the ancient Cruor fell on top of me before shattering into a pile of dust. Vomit lurched up my esophagus, burning and bitter.
Charles tossed me the stake. He didn’t say anything, just gave me an empty look. As another Cruor charged at him, he spun around to engage in combat.
I stood and glanced around, nearly dizzy with confusion over where to look first. Behind me probably would have been my best bet. Something pushed against the back of my skull. A chill pressed into my neck, my back, my thighs, and my stomach lurched. I tried to turn, but my mind and body were shutting down. My vision went black.
My heart went cold next. Another consciousness pressed against mine, but this was not the same as the voices I’d experienced before. These thoughts that weren’t my own wanted to drown my own.
A sudden snap shook me at my core, and I tumbled forward. I spun around, and reality crashed into my core when I realized what had just been happening.
Standing there was a Mort. A Mort that had been trying to take over my body—and had been making good progress until an Ankou had come along. This elemental grim reaper had his long fingernails so deep into what would’ve been the skull of the Mort that they were cutting through the Morts ghostly eyelids.
The two forms blurred, vibrating unnaturally fast as the Ankou fought to bring a final end to the spirit’s life. I didn’t get to see the result, because a sudden kick cracked into my ribs.
Callista.
As I lay sprawled across the ground, a second blow struck my cheek, and the side of my face numbed on impact. Something wet trickled past my temple. Pain crippled me momentarily, but before Callista could kick again, a sudden energy burst from me, sending her flying over several graves and crashing into a large headstone. She rose to her feet and shook it off, shock siphoning the color from her face.
Marcus’ head flew past me, exploding into a small cloud of ashes. He wasn’t disabling me anymore.
He wasn’t doing anything anymore.
The cemetery filled with cries of agony, anguish, and defeat. The movement of those in battle was a blur, but the images streamed clearly in my mind. An electric field domed around me, and I lay there, unmoving.