The Greyfriar (Vampire Empire, Book 1) by Clay & Susan Griffith;Clay Griffith;Susan Griffith (5 page)

The man bounded toward the tall female vampire. "Take the boy
and run!"

Adele realized the mysterious swordsman was shouting at her. She
scrambled to her feet and ran to her prone brother, already hearing the
ringing of steel against claws. The stranger in grey seemed eerily
familiar. Inexplicably, she was afraid for him and afraid of him at the
same time.

Adele gathered Simon in her arms and ran. A group of vampires
dropped to the ground in front of her, but they were staring beyond her
to the fight. As she stumbled past, two of them recovered their senses and flashed over to block her. Their movements were no longer blurs to
her. Adele could see their actions with a clarity and purity that surprised
her.

She had no purpose other than to protect Simon. Holding him awkwardly with one arm, she landed a staggering blow on the jaw of one
vampire. She then drove curled fingers into the face of another. The
princess blocked a swipe, locked the arm, and drove a foot into the vampire's knee. It would've been devastating against a human, but she
instantly realized that she'd made a mistake, because the vampire
showed no pain. The thing seized Adele's neck, but instantly yanked his
hand back with a screech.

Clawed hands surrounded Adele and wrenched Simon from her
grasp. He was lifted into the air. The boy screamed. The vampire reared
back and threw Simon with all its horrible strength. The boy's little
form flew through the air as if shot from a cannon and smashed sickeningly against a tree.

Adele's legs nearly gave out as she stared at the sight of her little
brother lying motionless. The seemingly endless moments they had
shared flashed in her brain, crowding out any conscious thought. All
Simon had been, all he could have been, come to this? This was his end?
A lifeless body in a forest in France. She started to move toward her
brother, but slavering vampires crowded her way, reaching out, slapping
sharply at her but hardly daring to touch her.

The swordsman drove his scimitar down through the tall female's
shoulder. The force of the blow staggered her to her knees. He left the
scimitar embedded in the vampire as he wheeled toward Adele. Three
vampires moved to intercept the charging swordsman. Without
breaking stride, he pulled a pistol with his free hand, aimed, and fired.
One vampire spun from the impact and collapsed. The swordsman then
shot a small female in the stomach and battered the other creature with
the basket hilt of the longsword, knocking him onto his back. His foot
pressed against the supine vampire's throat, he plunged the sword into
his heart and then fired a shot into the head of the wounded small
female, who was rising to her feet.

A clawed hand raked the swordsman's shoulder, tearing his cloak. He blocked the next swipe, kicking the attacker away. He aimed for a
debilitating head shot, but he sensed something behind him and twisted
to dodge a savage blow from the tall commanding female that would
have torn off his head.

"You will die," the female told him, with one arm hanging limp.

He wasted no words but drove the palm of his hand flat against the
female's bare chest, sending her airborne back toward the treeline.
Midway she changed her density and hit the trunk of a tree with no
more than a subtle bounce. Righting herself, she stepped to the ground.

The swordsman was already running toward the princess. He swung
his blade and severed the top of a vampire's skull. With one hand he
reached down to pluck a Guardsman's saber from a motionless body at
his feet and flung it end over end toward the tall female. The blade
plunged into the female's chest and into the tree behind her. The hilt of
the vibrating blade stuck in her ribs. She screamed and clawed at it in a
rage.

The swordsman grabbed Princess Adele roughly by the arm and
dragged her into the dank forest.

DELE DELE STUMBLED ALONGSIDE her rescuer.

"This way," he commanded.

"Simon ..." Adele gasped. "Go back ... my brother."

"Impossible. He is lost."

Her face immediately locked in an expression of horror and anguish.

"I'm sorry, Princess. I must keep you safe."

Tears grew in Adele's eyes, though her words were angry and sharp.
"Why won't you help him? I don't care about me!"

"You are next in line. Your brother is most likely already-"

"Don't you dare say it!" Adele stopped running, forcing the
swordsman to turn back to her. The top of her auburn head barely came
to his chin, but her eyes snapped defiance. "He could be alive!"

"They want you."

"I demand we go back for him."

"No."

"My father will hear of this!"

He nodded without great interest. "We must go. Quickly. They're
coming."

Adele took an involuntary breath of fear.

The swordsman stared at her, the glass lenses covering his eyes hard
and cold. "Once we get you to safety, I will go back for your brother, if
possible." Then he added without conviction, "With any luck your
troops will have rallied and repelled the attack."

Adele squeezed her eyes shut and forced her emotions down. She
needed to think clearly. She could hear the logic in his words; they echoed
in her ears, especially what he wasn't telling her. It was better Simon die
than fall into vampire hands. The swordsman crackled with a compelling
urgency, and she knew she was slowing him down in more ways than one.

"Please, Princess, no more discussion."

She gathered her skirts again. "I'm ready."

The swordsman turned and was off, sprinting, practically flying over
rocks and mossy, fallen trees.

A squad of determined White Guardmen broke through the trees in
ragged formation. Colonel Anhalt was in the lead, a pistol and saber at
the ready and two more pistols jammed in his waistband. The sturdy
Gurkha had one objective: protect the royal family.

Laid out before him was a sight from his deepest nightmares. A
clutch of vampires surrounded the tiny body of Prince Simon with their
claws raised and teeth bared. Anhalt fired with a retort that silenced the
triumphant cackle of the vampires. The head of the creature closest to
the unconscious prince snapped back with a bullet lodged in his forehead, and he slammed to the ground. Anhalt shouted and ran toward his
objective. He didn't know if his men were still behind him or not.

The pistol fired again, accurate to a fault, shattering the jaw of
another vampire near the boy. Anhalt blasted the temple of a third vampire as he reached the prince, sweeping his Fahrenheit saber to knock
aside a lifted claw coming from his right. A second later the creature was
on the ground and two White Guardsmen were running it through with
bayonets.

"Form square! Protect the prince! Or die trying!" Anhalt shouted
with his feet firmly planted on either side of motionless Simon. His men quickly complied. There weren't nearly enough soldiers to form a proper
barrier, but it didn't stop them from creating the barest of defense
around the remaining heir to Equatoria.

More vampires descended from above, and the White Guardsmen
lifted their rifles to the sky. Every man on the line fired, and the air filled
with white smoke and blood. The front wave of monsters fell. Colonel
Anhalt knelt low over his charge. When the next surge came from the
vampires it too was a gruesome slaughter.

For the first time, the creatures faltered. But the male creature festooned like a general screeched in rage behind his brethren, and they
came again swiftly and without mercy.

"Fire! Fire! Fire!" Anhalt shouted.

A cacophony of shrieking, hissing, and rifle discharge deafened the
colonel. Then suddenly the vampires were among them. Bayonets
slashed flesh to the bone; pistols shattered skulls to pulp. The fighting
and dying all screamed.

Anhalt moved not an inch from his position and hacked relentlessly
with his saber. It was not elegant or superb to see, merely effectual and
lethal. A vampire came in low under his blade and slashed him on the
left leg. Anhalt actually felt it strike bone. He grunted, and the whites
of his eyes flashed at the agony, but he twisted his saber and drove down
deep into the back of the vampire's neck, twisting and severing the
spinal column. It slumped at his feet, tendrils of smoke rising from its
mutilated neck.

Anhalt raised his head, searching for another target, but saw instead
the vampires holding back. There were only a few of them now. All
bloodied, with gaping wounds, some without arms or legs. They staggered and then took to the air. The Gurkha thought they were gaining
altitude for another run at his ragtag squad, but instead they veered off
toward the north.

It was over.

Anhalt regarded his men. Most were dead, but seven were still
standing, soaking in blood and gore.

"Well done," he rasped as he knelt to find whether they had been
defending a dead boy or a live one.

The youngster stirred. His face was covered in blood. "Where's
Adele?"

"Stay still, Your Highness," the soldier answered, laying a calming
hand on the boy's small shoulder. The vampires were gone, and Anhalt
could only assume they had what they wanted: the heir to the Empire.
He feared the worst for the princess, but could not tell her brother yet.

"I want to see her," Simon gurgled.

"You can't."

"Where's our ship?"

"Don't worry about the ship." The colonel didn't know where the
remainder of the fleet was or when they might come. Or if they would
come at all. The frigates could well have been destroyed in the attack.

Anhalt knew the boy was gravely injured, but his cursory examination of the prince didn't show any mortal wounds. Still Simon had to
receive medical attention soon. The ship's surgeon was lost, and none of
his aides had been found in the hours since the crash. Marseilles was not
far; reachable by foot. Although Anhalt was loath to strike out overland
with so many vampires abroad, it was an even greater danger to stay
where they were. The prince's life was even more crucial now, particularly if the princess was lost to them.

His princess lost. That fine young spirited woman. That magnificent
heir to the Empire. Gone. Taken by those animals. Subjected to such
horrors and degradations. All because of Anhalt's failure. He smelled the
blood soaked into his tunic and felt shame in his gut. He had to bite his
lip to prevent utter despair from welling. The gash across his face
burned. He touched the butt of his revolver.

The colonel quickly shoved down the dishonor. Plenty of time for that
later. He had to see through his duty to Prince Simon. He collected a
squad of ambulatory men. There were only twelve, but that would have to
serve. He couldn't ignore the searing pain in his leg where the vampire
had slashed him. He bound the wound as best he could, and it would have
to do until the young prince was safe. The colonel gently gathered up the
boy in his own red-jacketed arms and started off to the west.