Brynleigh was death, and death was Brynleigh.
As soon as the trio arrived at the Black Night’s hideout, a red-bricked three-story building in the middle of fucking nowhere, the rebels attacked.
Nikhail had called the base for backup, but Brynleigh wasn’t willing to wait. Ryker was inside, having the gods only knew what done to him.
Between Brynleigh’s vampiric nature, the fae’s air magic, and the witch’s blue ribbons, they dispatched the six guards out front quickly enough.
Before they charged inside, Indira wove blue threads of magic in the air. She sent them into Brynleigh, helping fortify the vampire against the Fledgling desires of her heart. The last thing they needed was for Brynleigh to lose control and turn on them.
Unlike Emilia’s painful magic, this felt almost… warm.
And then they went in.
There was so much blood.
Even with Indira’s barriers in place, Brynleigh could feel the monster deep within her digging its claws into her soul. Every death brought it closer and closer to the edge. It took everything she had to hold onto control as she fought her way through the rebels.
Her fangs ripped through necks as though they were made of paper. Every scream, every cry, every plea for mercy fed the darkness in her soul.
She couldn’t focus on anything except her need for Ryker.
They traveled down, down, down.
More rebels died.
Ryker was still missing.
They paused twice so Indira could pour more magic into Brynleigh, staving off her Fledgling bloodlust, but Brynleigh didn’t think it would work much longer.
Where was Ryker?
People stood in their way. Brynleigh got rid of them.
Blood. There was so much fucking blood.
Every time they entered a room and Ryker wasn’t there, a part of Brynleigh died.
But she wouldn’t stop. She couldn’t.
Nikhail had cut off a dead rebel’s hand when they first arrived, and he was using the severed limb to unlock doors. It probably should’ve disgusted Brynleigh, but she didn’t have room for feelings.
Remaining in control took everything she had.
Shadows poured from her, darkening everything in sight.
Her heart raced. Her skin was tight.
Part of her screamed to pay attention, to stop before it was too late, and this deadly monster shoved the last bits of her humanity aside forever, but that voice was growing fainter by the minute.
She needed Ryker like she needed blood.
Someone darted in front of her, and they raised a weapon.
Aboomechoed through the tight corridor.
Fire burst through Brynleigh’s side, but just as quickly, she began to heal.
The fools.