Description : King Cave
July 1, 2013
Elder Antonio Farrar, the closest person I had known to a father while growing up, turned his attention to the window he had my gun pointed at while echoes of warfare clashed in the air, fighting their own personal battle for loudest demand.
Screams of agony.
Shouts of victory.
Cries of the innocent.
Curses of reckoning.
Demands of the organized.
Shrieks of loss.
Antonio’s golden eyes narrowed, and he fired my weapon as another Com tried to enter through the broken window. Our enemies, the Commoners, were swarming outside our safe zone, the late Mrs Jonas’s office. The only entry: the window I had thrown my uncle out of earlier today, before I had executed him with a single silver bullet to his forehead.
Ezra Zeller, the Prodigy Vampire and one of my very best friends, stepped in front of me, sheltering my body from the window’s access. Any of his visible skin was covered in drying blood, which was not his own. His black ceremonial robe was still soaked with it, sticking to his powerfully massive frame. At six feet, five inches tall and built for protection, no stray bullets would hit my much smaller five feet, two inches, hidden behind him.
Which I didn’t appreciate. I didn’t want him hurt any more than he wanted me harmed.
“You want us to run?” Ezra asked in disbelief, his large, almond-shaped spring green eyes narrowing on Antonio. “I thought you were the terrifying Mage! You fought in the damn war beside my dad! He told me stories about you!” Ezra...