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  War of Nytefall:

  Loyalty

  Copyright 2018 © by Charles E. Yallowitz

  Kindle Edition

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law. Reviewers may quote brief excerpts in connection with a review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design & Illustration by Alison Hunt

  Dedication

  To everyone who has entered Windemere

  And left their mark upon its soul

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Prologue

  Nestled in a valley that perfectly follows the sun’s daily path, the main temple of Durag is bustling with activity. The citizens of the prosperous town, which has developed around the holy spire, hurry to get their chores and errands done before the looming execution. Whispers about the prisoner mix with excited discussions about what the rare event will entail, the conversations causing many to lose track of time. Hundreds of picnicking groups have already gathered on the surrounding hillsides in order to get a clear view of a cobblestone circle where four priests are kneeling and praying to the Sun God. Even though they have been stripped naked, the Duragians’ bodies are cloaked in thin shadows as they absorb most of the light that touches them. People cheer whenever one of the holy servants stands for a second and quietly stretches, the motion done to prevent their muscles from cramping at a crucial moment. In spite of the open celebration and happiness, there is an undercurrent of fear that is fueled by the presence of heavily armored guards. The soldiers are constantly patrolling the dirt roads, their clanking footsteps making it impossible for them to hide. Security becomes thicker as one gets closer to the yellow and orange tower, which is topped with a blazing piece of sun quartz. Hardened battle priests block the entrance to the temple, their bodies and staves glowing bright enough to wash away all of the nearby shadows. None of the men and women show any emotion beyond the occasional glint of fear at the sound of chains being rattled within the building.

  A single figure finds the display disgusting and nerve-wracking as she makes her way through the streets. Protected by an invisibility spell and trained to move without a sound, Mab is thankful that she has no pulse. If she did, her heart would have popped due to the fear of being within the greatest bastion of the vampires’ deadliest enemy. Slipping into an alley, the short and lean burglar waits for a squad of paladins to pass by. Listening to their conversation, she moves to the other entrance and adjusts her course to make sure she can still reach her target. It is not long before another group gets in her way, the warriors joined by a battle priest who is telling them where to stand during the execution. She hugs her black cloak tight around her body, the special garment the only thing blocking the sun and preventing her from losing her powers. The idea of being exposed and weakened makes her stomach twist, but the sensation dulls once the men and women have moved on. With a shallow breath, the burglar steps into the street and remains motionless while her latest wave of fear disappears.

  Not seeing anyone in her way, Mab sprints down the road and glances back to see that she is leaving puffs of dirt in her wake. Hearing a thudding footstep before seeing the knight, the vampire leaps onto a rooftop and remains crouched next to the chimney. The armored figure and nearby townsfolk stare at the collection of dried leaves that followed her into the sky until they float back to the ground. She waits for her enemy to move directly beneath her before creeping to the left-hand eave and leaping to the next building. Pausing as soon as she lands, she relaxes when the knight continues on his way and a minute passes without any signs of her being noticed by the Duragians.

  “Can’t believe we finally got him,” a woman says in the alley below. Curious about the conversation, Mab whispers a spell to make sure her invisibility holds and climbs down to a nearby window sill. “Clyde sure caused a lot of trouble in the past, but he definitely went too far these last few months. Guess he should have stuck to being a thief instead of adding murder to his list of crimes. He probably would have been ignored if he didn’t cross that line. Think they’ll ever find all the stuff that he and his gang stole? I mean, the Duragians have to want those holy tomes back.”

  “I heard they deemed the books corrupted and won’t go looking for them,” an older man replies with a chuckle. He stares directly at the hiding vampire, but merely takes out a flask to sneak a small drink. “Probably for the best since his gang is still out there. Have to wonder how evil they are considering the monster they follow. Clyde may have only gone violent recently, but he made a really big impact. Fastest rise to the top of the Sun God’s hit list that I’ve ever seen and I was alive during the vampire warlord hunts. I heard a rumor that he did it because the paladins wiped out some friends of his.”

  “I heard it was because they caught and tortured him.”

  “Why would they do that instead of kill him?”

  “Maybe they wanted information on Nyte since he’s supposed to be a good friend of Xavier Tempest.”

  “That makes sense. No matter the reason, his attacks were certainly vengeful.”

  “Hope his gang tries to break him out.”

  “Why hope for that?”

  “Because then all of those monsters will be destroyed.”

  “Good point.”

  The mortals freeze when they hear a low growl and they look around for the source of the noise. Instead of attacking, Mab climbs back to the roof and grips the chimney hard enough to crack the bricks. She swiftly takes a jar of blood off her belt and drains it in one quick movement, the crimson meal helping her retain her self-control. The temptation to pounce is still needling at the vampire’s brain, but she pulls out a silver chain with a golden bauble that resembles an ear of corn. Clenching it in her fist, she thinks back to when Clyde stole the worthless object on a dare and their criminal partnership began. Her mind is flooded by all of the tight spots they have been in over the last two hundred years until she pockets the jewelry. She takes a deep breath and is about to continue when she feels a brief itching on her arm. A small cut on her porcelain skin causes her to pinch the wound until it heals, the idea of leaving even a drop of stagnant blood behind making her red-tinted eyes twitch.

  With a renewed urge to save her partner and escape, Mab bounds and sprints across the rooftops. Birds are disturbed by her presence and stray cats hiss in her direction, but none of the locals pay the animals any mind. Coming to the edge of town, she silently drops between two archers and races forward as they turn around. As she reaches the spire, she tries not to chuckle at hearing them accuses each other of unnecessary poking. Remembering the cell location that one of her friends extracted from a kidnapped priestess, Mab hurries around to the back. The enchanted stone is uncomfortably warm to the touch, but the vampire finds that she does not burn like she feared. Gazing up the wall, she can barely make out a window that is barred and gives off a light tha
t steadily evaporates into a faint mist.

  Using her favorite trick, Mab grows metallic claws that easily push into the stone and allow her to climb. A slight pain ripples along her arms as she touches the veins of holy magic that run throughout the spire, but she ignores it and powers through the growing numbness. Eventually, the strange sensation is nothing more than an itch, which allows her to move a little faster. The vampire takes her time and avoids going near any of the windows, the muffled voices giving her enough time to adjust her ascent. Once she is thirty feet off the ground, the cautious burglar hisses another spell that masks the holes she has left behind. Hugging the wall, she listens as a guard passes below and never breaks stride.

  Mab is about to continue when a young priestess sticks her head out of a window that is only a few feet to the vampire’s right. She hangs there as the red-haired elf stares directly at her and squints as if she sees something. Ready to grab the stretching limb and toss the mortal to her death, Mab remains motionless until she is sure there is no other way to avoid detection. The priestess’s fingers are an inch away from the burglar’s face when the entire spire shakes and forces her to go back inside. Another violent impact threatens to dislodge the vampire, who rushes up the wall and stops just under her target. She starts to raise her head into view, but ducks back down when a searing heat burns her scalp. To her horror, the billowing light has knocked her hood off to reveal her shoulder-length hair to the sun and her powers rapidly begin to vanish. Before she loses her claws and plummets to the ground, Mab covers herself again and revives her invisibility spell.

  “You better not say you’re here to rescue me,” a deep voice says from inside the cell. The rattling of chains nearly drowns out a long sniff that the prisoner cuts off with a sigh. “Caught your scent a while ago and was hoping you wouldn’t be stupid enough to try this. I used the last of my strength to shake this place, which was supposed to knock you down. I assume the others are somewhere around here too.”

  “Titus, Robert, and Luther are in the forests with the rest of the Vengeance Hounds. The strumpet stayed behind and Decker is waiting for me on the hills,” Mab responds, her claws growing long enough to push through the stone and into the room. She bites her lower lip to hold back a yell in response to the pain of her nails getting violently snapped off. “What are you doing, Clyde? They’re going to kill you if you don’t get out now. Xavier sent some help too if you’re worried about us being outnumbered. They aren’t waving his flag or wearing his colors, but they’re here. We all believe you’re worth saving, so don’t be a jerk and make this mess a bigger disaster.”

  “Better a jerk than an idiot,” the prisoner states, his badly burned arm stretching through the bars. His charred skin falls off his fingers as he wiggles them and the bones start to crack before abruptly healing. “They have fifty thick chains and manacles on me because I’ve nearly escaped twice. I tried to do it without killing anyone since I didn’t want to give them more reasons to pursue me. You’re the best at picking locks, Mab, but even if you could do it in time, the light in here will put you on the chopping block too. That’s if it doesn’t kill you within seconds. Seems to be a new spell that they made just for me. Slowly burns my body to the bone then heals it to start all over again. Guess I really pissed these bastards off, huh?”

  Against her better judgement, Mab laughs along with her friend who she fears has given up on surviving. “Well, you did try to steal one of their holiest relics. Not to mention spreading all those rumors about going on killing sprees, which I still don’t understand. Seems you lied and tricked your way into a bad situation that only I can get you out of. There’s a window below that I can knock on and sneak inside once this juicy elf opens it. I’ll save part of her for you if you need it. Please tell me that you’re not giving up. It isn’t like you.”

  The air next to Mab shimmers and becomes the translucent form of a tall man wearing all black. His ebony hair rolls down to the middle of his back until he ties it into a ponytail that whips in the wind. Sparkling blue eyes peer into the green irises of the other vampire, who shakes her head to avoid being hypnotized. With a small shrug, the ghostly illusion takes a seat on the wall and picks at loose threads that keep appearing on his torn clothing. For a brief moment, the outer layer of the magical construct vanishes and his toned form is exposed, flickering scars appearing to mimic the condition of his physical body. The fake Clyde flashes his fangs and licks his lips before conjuring a beating heart in his hand.

  “I don’t know what I’ve done,” he explains before taking a bite. Peeking through the window, he sighs at the sight of his smoking form an instant before it abruptly heals. “That trick is getting very tiring. Look, I got myself into this mess after all of you told me the relic heist was a bad idea. My own fault for listening to a wandering seer . . . and then draining him instead of keeping him around. I’ll consider this a learning experience and meet up with you guys later. No reason for anyone to get hurt or killed on my behalf.”

  “Son of an unwashed barbarian, you’re up to something,” Mab whispers in a low voice. A distant blast of magic is met by echoing cheers, a sign that the townsfolk are in position for the execution. “This isn’t the time to do something crazy. Whatever you’re planning can be done another way. Just come back with me and tell the gang. All of us together can make it work like we always have. For all that is unholy and blighted, stop making this so difficult.”

  “You’re rather pathetic when begging.”

  “This is a stupid way to die, Clyde.”

  “But according to the seer, I am not meant to die here.”

  “Yes, you’re going to die about two miles away in an execution circle.”

  “Don’t worry because everything has been taken care of.”

  A blast of light strikes the illusionary figure, which dissipates into a mist that covers the invisible burglar. Looking down at the startled priests on the ground, Mab remains still until she is sure they have spotted her. A volley of beams erupts from the Duragians’ hands, but the spells are absorbed by the thin layer of Clyde’s aura that sloughs off his friend’s body. The solidified magic becomes a thick sheet of energy that explodes as soon as it hits the priests. Clanging footsteps and a chorus of screams ring out from the warriors who turn the corner in time to get hit by the blinding flash. Several minutes pass before anyone can see again and they immediately scan the area for Mab. All they find is an abandoned pure black cloak that is burned around the edges and an unconscious archer who has been stripped of her armor.

  *****

  Mab stays in the shadows of the forest as she creeps up the hill, the guard’s armor feeling loose and itchy with every step. She considers taking it off, but is afraid that she will run into a crowd of gawkers. The last thing the vampire wants is to lose her temper at the sight of mortals being entertained by Clyde’s execution. Licking her fangs, she imagines all of the horrible things she could do to the priests if given the slightest chance. A gurgle in her stomach causes Mab to reach for a bottle of blood before remembering that she had to leave her supply behind when she hastily switched clothes. With a muttered curse, she punches a tree and winces at the pain that ripples up her arm. Exposed to the sun, the vampire shivers at the thought of being only slightly stronger than a human and hurries to find a patch of shadows. Adjusting the rounded helmet, she considers taking it off entirely since holes in the top prevent the armor from giving her any real protection.

  A broken branch causes Mab to whirl around and draw a dagger that had been sewn into the stolen pants. The sight of a cloaked figure puts her at ease, the stocky build assuring her that she is in the presence of a friend. It takes her a moment to realize that the black-bearded dwarf in dented armor might not recognize her. Scrambling to take the helmet off, she yelps at the sensation of it tugging on her chestnut hair. The other vampire draws a rusty axe that bursts into an icy blade and he takes a single step forward. Mab finally gives up trying to be careful and yanks her head
free, the effort leaving half of her scalp bare and bloody. Shuddering from the pain and discomfort, she glares at her companion and throws the helmet at him. Not fearing the projectile, Kenneth Decker lets it hit him in the face and bounce into the bushes. Rubbing his bald head, the gray-eyed dwarf puts his magic weapon back on his hip and waves for his companion to keep walking until they are near the top of the wooded hill.

  “Judging from that armor and your missing night cloak, I assume things went as badly as I predicted,” the vampiric soldier states in a calm voice. Stopping at a hollow tree, he pulls out an extra cloak and tosses it to the burglar. “As right as you are about us having to be here, I told you that saving Clyde was a mistake. He always has a plan and wouldn’t be so foolish as to get captured by these mortals. Besides, how would you have escaped with him since he’d be injured and without powers? You weren’t made for strength, Winthrop, so you’d end up getting yourself captured too.”

  “Please don’t use my last name, Decker,” Mab requests as she strips out of the armor. She gives her clothes a small sniff and wrinkles her nose before putting on the night cloak. “The least he could have done is told us about the plan. We’re his equals in this gang. Not his blind and swooning followers. For all those times he’s said the gang is family, you’d think he would treat us as such. Is your maker going to be sending more than the dregs of his army? I could beat these guys with my eyes closed and no arms. Don’t tell me Clyde told Xavier about the plan and not the rest of us.”

  “It amazes me how you’ve stayed alive so long when you jump to conclusions like a hyperactive child,” Decker says with a sigh. Rubbing at a shield-shaped medal on his chest, the dwarf stares out at the execution circle. “If he told my maker then that’s their secret. Lord Tempest is pretty nervous about having so many vampires near Durag’s main temple. It could look like an invasion and then we’ll have the paladins marching on Nyte. As usual, the stress is stirring his paranoia, but Lady Sylvan will keep him calm. With any luck, we can stay out of trouble and only act if it’s truly necessary.”