CHAPTER 268: VAMPIRE HUNT 28

A vampire lunged at her.

Selis stabbed it clean through the chest and kicked its twitching body aside, her boots squelching in the blood-soaked mud of the town square.

She didn’t even have time to catch her breath before another one dropped from the rooftop with a snarl, claws outstretched.

"Oh, for fangs’ sake—" She ducked and stabbed upward, skewering the creature through its jaw with a satisfying crunch. "Do you all have a schedule or something? Is it ’murder Selis at dusk o’clock’?"

They just kept coming—pale, gaunt monsters in ragged cloaks and feral hunger in their eyes. And behind them, looming tall in his crimson-trimmed armor, was the vampire lord. One of Salister’s generals. This was no random raid.

This was vengeance.

Lucian had destroyed a nest. Their nest.

And now, they’d brought backup.

Selis fought her way back toward the fountain, blades in both hands. From the corner of her eye, she saw Tessa swing a halberd with terrifying grace, decapitating two vampires in a single motion. Her silver hair shimmered with blood splatter and moonlight.

"Where’s Lucian?!" Tessa shouted, clearly furious.

Selis grinned. "Saving me, of course," she said, while stabbing another bloodsucker in the knee. "We had a romantic dinner in the crypt, discussed maps, and then he swept me off my feet."

"YOU—!" Tessa screamed, javelin-punting a vampire through a wall. "You absolute little—!"

"I said

focus!" Lucian barked, storming toward the vampire lord with his sword blazing in divine fire. "If you have enough energy to argue, you have enough to kill!"

His voice cut through the chaos like a whip. Even Selis stood straighter without meaning to.

He leapt into the air, spun once, and came down like a meteor—his blade slicing through a line of vampires like they were made of parchment. The vampire lord met his blade with a twisted scimitar, the clash sending shockwaves across the battlefield.

Selis felt it in her bones.

Lucian and the vampire lord were going at it—strike after strike, parry after parry—faster than her eyes could track. The general snarled in some old tongue, fangs glinting, while Lucian’s face was calm, serious . . . cold.

Selis ducked into cover behind a broken cart, panting. Her heart raced—not from fear, but from curiosity. No one fought like that. Not a regular soldier. Not even a captain. Not even the strongest soldier of humanity.

"Alright," she muttered, peeking over the rim, "what are you, Lucian?"

He took a blow that would’ve broken a normal man’s arm, staggered back a step, and then retaliated with a ferocious uppercut that lifted the vampire lord off his feet.

A normal person would be screaming from the recoil. Lucian just cracked his neck and kept moving.

"Yup. Totally cursed," Selis said, nodding to herself. "Or maybe . . . vampire?"

She frowned at the idea.

No. That was impossible. His aura wasn’t cold, and she’d seen him step into hallowed ground without so much as a nosebleed.

But then again . . . how else could he heal so fast?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a vampire tackling her sideways. They rolled in the dirt, fangs gnashing for her throat.

"Do I look like a snack to you?!" she growled, slamming her dagger into its eye socket.

The vampire twitched and went limp. She shoved it off and stood, groaning.

Behind her, Tessa shouted again. "Selis! Get your ass back here!"

The town bells kept ringing in the distance, a chorus of panic and dread. Fires burned on the rooftops, shadows flickered, and screams echoed from alleyways.

They were losing ground.

Until Lucian got serious.

He lunged at the vampire lord, chanting something under his breath—not a prayer, but a command. His sword lit up like a sunbeam, and with a final, brutal arc, he cleaved the general in half.

The vampire lord’s head landed near Selis’s boots. Its expression was frozen in shock.

Selis nudged it with her foot. "Told you not to pick the fight."

With the general gone, the rest of the horde faltered. Some hissed and fled into the night. Others fought on, crazed and cornered. But their leader was dead. Their formation broken.

Lucian turned, eyes glowing faintly gold. "Sweep and finish the rest. Don’t let any escape."

Tessa nodded, rallying the squad behind her. Selis was already moving, blades dancing through the stragglers.

By the time the last vampire was dust, the sky was lightening. Dawn peeked over the eastern hills like an exhausted sigh.

The square was wrecked. Bodies—vampire and otherwise—littered the streets. Flames still flickered from broken chimneys. Townspeople peered from hiding places, wide-eyed and shaken.

But the squad had won.

Lucian stood in the center, bloodied but calm, as if he hadn’t just soloed a vampire general in open combat.

Selis approached, limping slightly, her daggers sheathed.

"You okay?" she asked.

He nodded. "You?"

"Minor bite. Might turn undead. Probably won’t. We’ll see." She winked. "Got some holy water on you?"

He didn’t laugh. He never laughed.

Selis studied him. The faint glow in his eyes was gone now. But it had been there. And that chant he used . . . it wasn’t in any spellbook she recognized.

"You know," she said casually, "most people can’t bench press a vampire lord."

Lucian gave her a sidelong glance. "Most people aren’t me."

"You’ve got that right," she muttered.

He turned to walk away, probably off to do something mysterious and brooding. Selis followed, despite Tessa’s glare from across the square.

"So," she said, falling in step beside him, "about those ribs you broke weeks ago. You’re walking a bit too upright for someone who should be in a sling."

"I heal fast."

"Yeah, sure. And I’m actually a princess in disguise."

Lucian paused, just for a second, and gave her a look. Not annoyed. Not cold. Just . . . unreadable.

"Go rest," he said. "We move at dusk."

Suspicious.

So suspicious.

Selis narrowed her eyes at Lucian, her mind racing through every oddity she had seen in him. The speed, the strength, the impossible recovery from wounds that should have kept a man bedridden for weeks. If he wasn’t going to tell her, fine—she’d find out herself.

But oh, how she wanted to poke the bear and see if it growled.