Page 43 of Dance of the Phoenix (Cloak of the Vampire #3)
Aileen
Nothing made sense.
Logan couldn’t be dead. He was a Gifted, an elite vampire. He was a Commander in the Troop. He couldn’t possibly die.
Especially not at the hands of a Common like Eleanor.
“I’m sorry, Aileen.”
I tore my eyes from Logan’s body to look at Eleanor, who looked at me with that lifeless expression on her face. She still held the knife with the heart, no longer beating, lodged on it.
I tried to speak, but I couldn’t. I had no words. I couldn’t even feel anything other than shock.
Ever so casually, Eleanor slid the heart off her knife until it fell with a sickening splashing sound on the floor.
Then she walked toward me, leisurely, as if she hadn’t just killed Logan.
Killed my ex-boyfriend. My old friend. The one person I didn’t think would ever die, especially not like this.
“It’s what this is all for, isn’t it?” Eleanor now said, her eyes glued to me, face blank.
I couldn’t move as she stopped before me, as if she’d cast a spell on me. “It’s not possible for both of us to get out of this alive,” she told me quietly, and for the first time I saw her face crack. Agony flashed in her eyes, causing them to glow. “So kill me, Aileen.”
My shock multiplied. I was almost unable to comprehend what she was saying.
“If you don’t, he will, even if I kill you,” she whispered, and I froze. “I don’t want to kill you. Please,” she begged me. “He’s going to control me soon—”
And just like that, her face was wiped of all expression once more, turning deadly and lifeless.
She attacked.
My body moved automatically, avoiding her knife and evading all of her attempted attacks. She was ferocious and fast, unrelenting in her pursuit, and I had a hard time keeping my attention intact to make sure she didn’t get a hit in.
You have to kill her, a voice inside me urged. You must. There is no other way.
She’d just killed Logan. She’d also begged me to take her life. I had all the reasons I needed to kill her—even her own consent.
And that’s when I knew I could not get out of this without doing just that.
So as she attacked, I started slowing my movement and began to attack back, sending punches and kicks her way, which she evaded. Gradually, the pacing of our fight grew slower and slower, so much so that despite whatever control she was under, she couldn’t help but match my pace.
Once we reached the ultimate pace, I moved from the first Behest, Gradus Diminutio , to the second, Propero Incrementum , and I accelerated my pace immediately, connecting my punches with every part of her body I could reach.
The impacts made her stagger back, gasping in pain as I relentlessly and rapidly went on the complete offense.
Then, I moved to Crura Implacabilis , the third Behest. Letting my upper body rest, I pushed all the power and momentum to my legs and kicked her over and over again, not letting her take the offense, no matter how much she tried. She was completely under my dominion, thanks to Iovan’s Imperium.
The next Behest, Coactus Impetum , was all about spreading the power evenly throughout the body and using certain sets of attacks to goad her into attacking me in a certain way I wanted.
It worked almost too well; Eleanor was like a rubber band, snapping into action once she saw the openings I carefully created using the Behest. She aimed for my sides, her knife brushing against my skin and drawing blood.
I continued to compel her to attack the places I wanted her to, and she fell into the trap over and over again, unaware she was exhausting herself in the process. And it was only when I saw her knife hand starting to shake that I moved to the fifth and final Behest: Perniciosius Finis .
I concentrated the entire power I’d gathered and grew throughout the fourth Behest in my hands and arms, and when she almost slipped on the floor due to her tired state, I rushed toward her, grabbed her head, and using every bit of power, strength, and energy I had left, I closed my eyes and pulled.
A sickening tearing sound reverberated through me as I felt my balance tipping, and I fell back on my ass, feeling her hair in my hands and the wet blood dripping down on my clothes.
I was terrified to open my eyes to see the carnage I’d created, but I forced myself to. Eleanor’s head was in my hands, her face turned to me, her eyes glassy. Her neck ... her neck was nonexistent. It was all a mess of torn flesh and veins.
It was then that it occurred to me everything was silent. The crowd did not make a sound. All I could hear was my own heartbeat, quick and uneven.
And suddenly, I couldn’t hold on to the severed head anymore. With a sudden wave of rage, I threw it away and pulled my knees to my chest, burying my head there as my entire body shook with fury mixed with agonizing sorrow.
When Renaldi cleared his throat and said in a cheery voice that made me sick, “And the winner is ... Aileen Henderson of the Rayne League,” I couldn’t hold it in anymore.
I turned my head and vomited.
A butler led me out of the arena just as Renaldi announced there would be a fifteen-minute break before the next battle.
Right at the exit, I saw Ragnor was waiting. I couldn’t look him in the eye. Not after the shit show I’d just pulled. Not after I’d basically killed one of his prized Gifted vampires.
But Ragnor didn’t seem to care about any of it. Instead, he pulled me into his embrace, stroked my hair, and murmured that everything was all right now.
And yet nothing was all right. Nothing was okay. Because of me, Logan was killed. Because of my incompetence and overconfidence. Because I was an idiot.
Distantly, I wondered if Atalon had noticed when I’d stopped time. He must’ve been watching just like Ragnor, and he knew of my ability. Did he just let it all play out without intervening?
Ragnor squeezed me tight, and yet even his embrace did not bring me comfort. Nothing would, really.
“Do you want to go back to the dorms?” Ragnor asked me after a long silence.
Even though I was exhausted, my head was pounding, and every fiber of my being begged for rest, I couldn’t. There were four more battles to be fought—perhaps not by me but by people I cared about. I needed to see this through, even if I felt like my whole world was falling apart.
So I shook my head and said, “Let’s go back.”
But the moment I tried to walk, I suddenly lost all strength and my knees buckled. Ragnor caught me around my waist, and only with his help was I able to somehow make my way back to my seat in the gallery.
I felt eyes following Ragnor and me from the crowd—and the spectators of the Rayne League.
Once Ragnor helped me sit down and took the seat next to me, where Logan had sat just an hour ago, I felt all the energy leaving my body and leaned against Ragnor, wishing I could turn back time instead of simply stopping it.
If only I’d stuck to the original plan ...
“Hey.” Isora’s voice made me flinch. But then I felt her hand on my arm, and I turned to look at her. She had exchanged seats with Zoey and was now sitting on my right, her face worried.
I couldn’t look in her eyes, too. Not after I’d just killed Eleanor, who’d been her longtime friend since the two became vampires.
She kept holding my arm, refusing to let go, even though I was in no state to talk. I was grateful for her worry but also ashamed.
Because I didn’t deserve it.
As Ragnor and Isora sat by my sides, like two supporting pillars I didn’t deserve, the break eventually came to an end, and the next battle began. This time, it was between Oberon and Sulien against Oz and Laurenia from the Atalon League.
Unlike my battle, this one was quick and short. Oberon easily overpowered Laurenia, another Gifted I knew in passing back at the Atalon League, using his Gift of plant manipulation, causing the seeds in his pockets to grow and wrap themselves around her before she could even attempt an attack.
“Surrender,” Oberon demanded, aiming a sharp vine tip at Laurenia’s bare chest.
Laurenia shook her head.
So Oberon carved her heart out.
On the other side of the arena, Sulien was trying to get a hit on Oz, who moved around evasively, not even attempting to go on the offense. It was like Oz was biding his time until Laurenia was defeated, because once Oberon killed her, Oz raised his arms and said loudly, bored, “I surrender.”
The crowd boo ed but the rules were absolute. Once he surrendered, the battle was over, with another win for the Rayne League.
Isora sighed. “Thank God Oz surrendered,” she said quietly, and I turned to look at her. “I wouldn’t have wanted Oberon and Sulien to die.”
Confusion cut through my numbness. “But Oz is Common,” I said quietly.
Isora gave me a small smile. “Yeah.”
She didn’t elaborate, and I didn’t pry. To be fair, I didn’t really care about anything as long as I didn’t have to see another person I knew die.
Unfortunately, my slight relief was short-lived.