NIGHTWORLD

28: Dracul Reign

Boz stopped at the edge of the lake, his towel falling to one side. Jaro floated lazily through the dark water, watching the bull gleam in the moonlight. His nude, muscular form stood still for a moment, lost in thought. 

“Are you coming?" Jaro called, in French. 

“In time, Pueyrredón," Boz replied, his British accent playing delightfully on the French words. Despite his wide tongue and thick features, Jaro's anonymat purred from the bull's lips. Coming from anyone else Jaro couldn't stand it anymore, but the way Boz said it… it was nice. 

Am I missing something? Jaro wondered, glancing behind himself as he started in the water. Shadows seemed to pool all around. The whole scene felt almost unreal, as if he were in a dream. Hopeless romantic? 

At the shore, Boz began wading in, the dark waters slowly lapping up past his ankles, calves, smoothly enveloping his thighs and hips. The reflected moonlight bent around his waist like a spotlight. The bull drifted over to meet Jaro in the middle, his calloused hands reaching out to grip the wolf's waist. 

“How are you feeling?" Boz asked, leaning in to plant a kiss on Jaro's neck. 

The wolf curled up closer, feeling Boz's cock twitch as it pressed against him. “I… don't know. I'm sick of the desert, to be honest." 

“When the others discover this little watering hole, our place'll be ruined." 

“Well," Jaro said, running his paw's up the bull's front. “It's good for now, right?" 

Are we being watched? He searched the shoreline, still unable to shake the feeling that someone was out there. Did I forget something? His shoulder burned faintly, like an old wound flaring up. 

Speaking of flare… His paw brushed across Boz's stiff cock, squeezing gently as the two rubbed together. 

“I need to… talk to you, Jaro," the bull said, breathing softly into the motion. 

“Oh?" Jaro blinked, he felt weird. Like he wasn't here, like the things he did didn't matter. Has this happened before? 

Boz inhaled deeply. “I spoke with the Staff Sergeant, he said our requests to avoid Afghanistan were denied. Grimey bastard actually had the gall to bloody lecture me, said they needed everyone they could get."

It was like a dagger through Jaro's heart. He was sick of the fighting, sick of being sent out into the desert just to kill people and take ground that didn't matter. Boz didn't have to say it, but he knew the bull would feel the failure twice as keenly.

“I thought joining the Legion would help me find some clarity," Jaro muttered into Boz's shoulder. “That it could make my life actually mean something." 

“I know. But we're just guns to them, guns what they can rent out to other Governments, apparently." The bull sighed deeply. “September changed everything. Now the U.S. has a licence to do whatever the hell it wants over there, and apparently we're supposed to help. Fucked, innit?" 

“Boz…" 

“No, Jaro I…" The bull shook his head. This is it. The thoughts seemed natural, smoothly slipping into Jaro's mind. This is the moment you failed. But how? Had this really happened before? “I can't go. Please." The bull squeezed him, hard enough that it began to hurt. “I'm not able to do this anymore. I can't think straight, and I don't want… to be here anymore."

Jaro licked his lips. If you say the wrong thing, you'll fail again. You're weak. Nothing you do matters. “What do you mean… here?" 

“I mean, fucking here," Boz exclaimed. He pressed a hand to his face, squeezing the bridge of his nose. Jaro's paw brushed over his chest. Somehow he felt like he knew what was coming, but he was powerless to stop it. They were racing towards the cliff but he couldn't find the brake. This has happened before. How do I fix it? “Every day it's the same thing, I look at the others' faces but they don't fuckin' get it, do they? I'm losing my mind, can't remember shit, angry all the time, everyone is starting to notice… man, I can't do it. I just… I can't. Now we're supposed to ship off to a hotter warzone? Do you realise just how messed up it'll be with the Americans on their revenge quest?" He stopped, as if suddenly realising how fast he'd been ranting. 

He's begging for help and what can you offer? Jaro blinked, trying to focus on the moment. The world had receded away, it was only him and Boz, floating under the moonlight. No stars in the sky, no sand off the shore. They were utterly alone. 

“I'm sorry," Jaro whispered. Now is the moment.

“Please help me." Boz's voice was small, smaller than he'd ever heard it before. It was terrifying. This big, strong man who seemed as if he could take on everything in the world… reduced to nothing. Jaro had to help him. He had to do something to fix his perspective, to make it right in his head. He loved the man – he couldn't just let him die. You know what happens. He did. The right words were the only thing stopping this from being the last conversation they ever had. You'll let him go. Just like you'll let everyone else die. Doesn't matter how many times you do this, it will always end in pain.

Jaro opened his mouth to tell Boz it would be okay, to say anything, to try and reassure him. Whatever happened last time they were here would not happen again. Jaro refused. He would not let the people he loved down anymore. 

But he had no control. Boz had been spiralling for months, worse every day. This was a rare moment of clarity where he was actually able to look at himself with some perspective. Even the others in the battalion had stopped speaking to him, he was too explosive, too irrational. The world was coming down around his ears. 

“Please, Jaro."

What can I say to that? 

“I'm sorry Boz, I don't know how to help you." The words were true. Jaro couldn't save him. And because of that, they'd never speak again. Jaro had run away from Hungary to come here, and soon, he'd run from this too. The darkness closed in around them. He could see Boz two days from now, lying on a cold metal slab. Gone. No. No, please, don't take them from me. 

Jaro looked away. Etched into the darkness he saw runes, patterns, reflecting himself, reflecting strength and power. Chevron. That name meant something.

“Hey," the bull's voice pierced through the haze. His thumb brushed Jaro's chin. The wolf opened his eyes, staring back. “Listen up. I don't know what's wrong with me, Jaro. But somethin' is." What is this? “I 'unno what's gonna happen. But I can't go to Afghanistan. It's just… not in me, yanno?" 

“I… Boz…" Jaro's voice caught, trapped in his throat. Did this happen? Is this real? 

“It's not on you," Boz said. “Whatever is happening… I can't stop it. Neither can you. Please…" He leaned in, lips brushing against Jaro's. I forgot this. Boz pulled back. “Don't let this hang over your head, Pueyrredón." 

Jaro's heart fell. You're nothing. You let him die. Except that wasn't true. How did he forget?

As if in response to the corrupting thoughts, Boz whispered; “Whatever happens, I love you, and I know you've done everything you can for me. You live your life, alright?" 

“What does that mean? What are you gonna do?" Jaro asked, the same way he'd asked all those years ago. He knew what was coming, but he couldn't admit it. Boz only shushed him. 

It wasn't on me, Jaro realised, squeezing his eyes shut. After Boz's death he'd spiralled. Left the Foreign Legion on medical discharge, fled back to Hungary and buried himself away in some hospital at Budapest. Every night he'd heard Boz saying please over and over. That moment had cemented itself in Jaro's psyche, but it wasn't the full picture. The grief, the hurt, had obscured the truth. He'd been wandering in the dark. I didn't fail Boz, the world did. The guilt from Boz's death had paralysed him for so long, but that's never what the bull wanted. He wanted you to live, even though he knew… There was no other way that his story could have ended. Jaro couldn't save everyone. He had to accept that.

But I won't let that stop me from trying.

He opened his eyes.

Romulus stared down at him, shirtless, his boot crushing the life from Jaro's ribcage. The psychic pressure was immense, pulsing in Jaro's skull as the vampire tried to drag out more ancient wounds, anything to hurt him. The pain inside and out was excruciating, Devna's silver stake setting forth an unchecked wildfire blazing through Jaro's shoulder, the tip poking up from the front of his flesh, slick with black blood.

“Thy weakness let them die," the vampire said, malice coursing through his words. “Seems that loving thou is a lethal occupation, Jaroslav. What pathetic, mortal arrogance." 

“He… didn't die… because of me!" Jaro grunted, bucking beneath the vampire's heel. “But you will!"

He had to fight. Lying down and giving up would solve nothing. He'd done that after Boz died, hiding from his father in Budapest, wasting what little time they had left. Now Sandor was gone, and there was no chance of things ever getting better. He thought of Kristian. Isla's lie drove them apart, and if Jaro gave in to that now, they would never have a chance to fix things. If he let himself succumb to all that useless guilt and regret, he'd still be feeling sorry while Romulus killed him.

“I won't live in the past!" Jaro's will was galvanised, hardening against each new blow Romulus's psyche tried to throw at him. All that time wasted looking back, when there were those right in front of him who needed his help. He would never let that happen again. “I can only change what's coming next!"

“All that awaits you is more failure, little pup."

Tears stung Jaro's eyes, voice cracking as he cried up at the Teardrinker. “I never failed them! I gave up my life to save them! I DID! EVERYTHING! I! COULD!" 

And that's enough.

Roaring with effort, Jaro reached up and seized hold of Devna's stake, screaming with pain as he dragged it up through his own body. It left a trail of blistering numbness through his shoulder, the tingling agony echoing up his arm, fingers already spasming in response. 

Jaro jammed the stake into the side of the vampire's knee, burying it deep. Steam burst from the joint and the Teardrinker flinched back, howling in fury, clutching his injured leg. 

“Such petulance!" He snapped. “Will you call it failure when they die by your own claws?"

KILL. Romulus's order rang out like a psychic bell, ripping the rest of the Team into action. They dove for Jaro like puppets, but he was ready. He ducked and weaved forward, chasing down Romulus as he avoided their blows. Don't hurt them, he thought, knocking them down and pushing them back. Each one went sliding across the ground as he closed in. 

Kristian got the closest, grabbing hold of Jaro's neck and driving the stake up towards his jaw. The wolf caught the marten's wrist, their eyes locking. 

“I'm…" Kristian's words came out shuddering and forced. “S-sorry." 

Jaro put a paw on his chest and launched him backwards. The doctor flew, crashing down onto the marble and rolling back towards the gold. He could kill Romulus quickly, he just needed a moment of clear air.

Jaro whirled on the Teardrinker, busy hobbling backwards, waving his sickle up warily. “Thou cannot kill me." His thoughts pressed at Jaro's edges, trying to drag up more painful memories, trying to cripple him however he was able. He's afraid. Now he finally knows what it feels like to be prey.

“You can't stop me," Jaro replied. He leapt forward, ephemeral wings bursting from his shoulder blades. They beat down powerfully, propelling him forward. The Teardrinker moved in almost slow motion, his resolve broken, agonisingly weak. 

Jaro crashed him into with the force of a cannon, the two flying backwards as he slammed the vampire into a stack of gold coins. Jaro bared his fangs, teeth sinking deep into Romulus's neck, foul black ichor spraying out as he tore flesh free. The vampire shrieked, glittering coins tumbling down around them. 

“Sit up in your castles," Jaro spat, his mouth stinging with an acidic burn. “Think yourselves immortal. Untouchable." His paw shot up, fingers wrapping tight around the Teardrinker's neck, pressing upwards. “You think we're just cattle."

“Thou… cannot… stop… him…" The vampire hissed. 

“But I can stop you." With a heave of effort, Jaro pushed his arm up. Sinews stretched and snapped, bone cracking as the vampire's spine was ripped apart. Ichor bubbled as the flesh stretched and tore, his body heaving violently as it was separated from his head, collapsing to the floor in a limp heap. 

Jaro stared into the eyes of the severed wolf's head, watching the last moments of consciousness fade. Steam began to rise from inside his mouth, the bone crumbling away in his fingers. 

“The last Lord of the Vermilion Cortegè," Jaro whispered, closing his fist as the remains became dust. “So much for eternity's grasp." 

Leaving the smouldering heap behind, Jaro rushed back to the others. He reached Kristian first, helping the marten to his feet. 

“Are you alright?" Jaro asked. “I hope I didn't hurt you." 

Kristian shook his head groggily, blinking as if he'd just woken from a dream. “No… I'm fine, bruised, but mostly glad I did not manage to hurt you." 

“Bastard, fucking bastard," Kadir growled, picking himself off the floor. “What happened? Where'd he go? I want him to know how it feels to have someone's fingers digging into his head." 

“He's dead," Jaro said, gesturing back at the small pile of ash left behind. 

“Too lucky," the caracal spat. 

“Bloody cunts," Frankie cried, shaking the hypnosis off. “Always afraid of a fair fight, ain't they? I want it known Jaro, that I was clumsy back there, I was fightin' him off." 

He clapped the dingo on the shoulder. “Sure thing, Frankie."

“I could beat you mate, if I wanted," she insisted. 

“Yet I was the only one to score a significant blow," Devna tutted, stepping up behind. “My apologies Jaroslav, I hope I did not hurt you." 

“I'm fine," Jaro lied. His body felt spent. The fight had taken a lot out of him, physically and mentally.

Ioana stepped up next, checking her gun. “Unfortunate for us, this thing is not over yet." The group's eyes went towards the far side of the room. “The Teardrinker had no reason to lie about that. Lord Dracula is on the other side of that door." She shivered. For Ioana this was a severe moment – her people had slaved under the Impaler's thumb for as long as anyone could remember. Dracula ruled her entire world, where Jaro had only known about the existence of vampires for less than a few months. This is like killing God for her. 

Jaro could feel it. The presence waiting for them. Vlad Tepes. Dracula.

“Nowhere to go but forward," he said. “The thralls are still away, we have time enough." Beneath his feet, the castle shook, the Homunculus's pained cries resonating through the stone. 

“Wait," Kadir said, touching his shoulder. Jaro glanced back, surprised. “I just… I realise we're probably gonna die in there. I want you… to know…" The caracal inhaled deeply, as if he were doing something that caused him pain. “How much you mean to me, Jaro. We haven't had a lot of time together, but you helped me see things with a bit of clarity. I'll never forget that, and I do love you, even if I show it strangely."

Jaro smiled, leaning in to kiss the man. “I know," he whispered back. “You're perfect." 

Kristian stood to the side, pointedly watching his feet. “I'm so sorry, Jaro. I should never have lied to you about your father. That was wrong, and I understand if you never forgive me." 

“I understand it," Jaro replied, beckoning the doctor closer. The marten came in, pressing himself into their three-way embrace. “There's other things to worry about now. I don't want any of us to go thinking there was love lost here. Nightworld is as brutal as our own, you have to take what you can, and make love where you find it." 

“Yes, I think that is wise," Kristian replied. “Jaro, you… need to be strong for what's coming." The marten tugged his collar down, exposing his neck. “Please." 

“You'll be light-headed."

Kadir pushed forward, mimicking the doctor's action. “Not if you take a little from us both. It's only right." 

Jaro smiled, his chest painful for how full it felt in that moment. Funny. The end of our lives, and there's nowhere else I'd rather be. 

The three broke apart, the rest of the team waiting patiently by the door. 

Devna met Jaro's eyes as he passed her. “You gave up your own mortality to save our lives," she said. “That is not lost on me. Thank you, Jaro."  

“You saved me plenty of times, Dev, I owed you." 

Ioana met him next, holding herself comfortably. Her tongue was black, her gun dangling in her one remaining arm. “You got revenge for Cujac, Jaroslav. For my people. Because of the path I chose they may never accept me back… but I appreciate it. Their safety is thanks to you." 

“Thank you for your help, Ioana. You've sacrificed a lot, and I couldn't have resisted Romulus if you hadn't taken us to Chevron." 

The fox bowed slightly. 

Finally, Jaro reached Frankie at the door. The dingo stared forwards, as if she could see through the wood. “You're barely a vampire yet Frankie, but you can feel him, can't you?" 

“Too right," she replied, poking a finger up into her gums, as if searching for fangs. “It's coming on quick, I can feel it in me already. I'm ready to finish this, Jaro. You're my best mate, truth be not many others I'd rather die horribly with." 

“We're gonna cure you, after this. I promise, we can go back to Orobos, figure it out there."

“One thing at a time." 

“Do you have a plan?" 

She scratched her chin, shrugging. “Open the door, absolutely fang it at the old cunt, maybe we catch him by surprise. Could be he's on the dunny, might get lucky." 

Jaro laughed. “I don't think anyone gets lucky against Dracula." He flicked his wrist out, extending the blades on the weapon she'd made. “If we can feel him there, he definitely knows about us." The power bleeding through the door was so immensely heavy it practically weighed reality down, dragging them all towards it. “Time to go."

“After you mate," Frankie said. 

Jaro nodded, reaching up and shoving the doors in with a grunt. The wood cried out as it scraped the floor, sweeping out and bouncing off the walls beside them. Cool stale air wafted through the gap, and Jaro felt almost reverent as he stepped over the threshold. 

It was like a church inside. Another great empty hall with peaked ceilings, the red stained glass stretching up several stories at the far end of the room. Dim light flickered from the chandeliers overhead, a soft bubbling sound coming from the side as blood trickled through small canals built into the wall. A rich black carpet ran down the centre of the room, cutting a thin line in the grey stone tiles. A massive, magnificent dais towered at the end of it, built out of dark metal and facing in towards them. Flags with archaic symbols adorned the walls on high, along with paintings set below that. All said it was an empty room, a sad place to rule a dead empire from. 

Dracula sat perched atop the dais, sunk deep into his jewel-encrusted throne, one claw propping up his head. He was a dragon with crimson scales, permanent wings draped around his shoulders like a cape. Unlike the other vampires his eyes were black, slight red dots pin-pricking the centre. He wore a spartan outfit for one so magnanimous – a simple wool coat draped around his powerful form, long enough it would trail across the ground as he walked.

His presence was like a tower bell ringing in Jaro's ear. It sang and stung, burning his eyes and stretching his skull. This was a nuclear bomb squeezed into a person. The most powerful thing to exist in the world. 

“The scent of defiance precedes thee, mortals," Dracula said. His voice was magically projected, whispering all around them, echoed a dozen times over itself. Close and quiet, but so powerfully loud at the same time. Jaro felt the words gliding in his guts. “A curious fragrance in these halls, one that stirs memories long buried. Thou have come, like so many others." 

Frankie lifted her rocket launcher. One shot left. 

Jaro raised his arms, speaking Wallachian. “You wanted us here! Here we are!" 

The dragon smiled. “It isn't about want, little meal." He stood, no momentum, no effort, gliding almost instantaneously to his feet. Romulus had been tall, but Dracula dwarfed even him, reaching nearly eight feet tall. 

“It's about inevitability," Dracula said, descending one step from his throne. “It is about iron will, made manifest. True Godhood is to merely think… and it is so." 

“Spare me the bloody drama," Frankie muttered beneath her breath. “Sick of this stupid language, just kill us already."

“What do you want from us?" Kristian asked.

Dracula took another step, his coat and wings swaying with the movement. “Zakhar may have chosen to bite the claw that feeds, but before that he spoke true. Knowledge is the only resource left for me to gain. Thou calls this place Nightworld, and thou is right to do so, for the night here comes to a close. The mortals run dry, weaker and smaller with each passing generation. I seek the future. An eternity of Dracul Reign, bleeding white every world there is to take." He paused, forked tongue tasting the air. “Yet I am no fool,

“The winds of Europe have shifted since last I walked that ground, mortal lives are so pitifully fleeting, your kingdoms rise and crumble again in the time it takes me to descend my throne. What I want, is your knowledge on modern power. That last piece standing between my reign and your world."

“Your Cortegè is dead," Jaro said. “The New Vampires are all gone, you have no army to invade with." 

Dracula shrugged. “I can make new Lords. As for my sickly spawn, Lord Zakhar's work was nothing but thorough." The dragon gestured towards Jaro. “You have received it. Would thou think him so short sighted? My spawn are scattered across this realm, slumbering in wait for my command." 

Jaro's heart fell. The New Vampires they'd killed were only the beginning. There were hundreds in this castle alone. Who knows how many more could be out there? It was painfully naive to think things would have been that easy.

“Dost thou understand?" Dracula asked, his voice whispering into Jaro's ear. “The greatest of your efforts is but a drop of water in my ocean of blood."

A shot rang out in the hall, deafening. The bullet hit the dragon in the centre of his head, blowing through his skull and out the other side. Jaro glanced back and saw Devna standing, her rifle raised, smoke trailing from the barrel. “Your armies will be worthless when you are ash, vampire."

Dracula cocked his head, a bored expression on his face. “Tch. Valiant. And yet, centuries have sculpted these halls with screams far more desperate than yours. Thou is but a gnat buzzing at the precipice of oblivion. It is not too late to walk back, and live."

“You don't want to kill us," Jaro said. “But you'll have to. Nobody is helping you invade our home." 

Dracula smiled, his psychic presence swelling around the team, gathering like ravenous wolves. “Thou has seen my thralls, busy as they are with Zakhar's pet. Each one to a man once stood against me. If you won't aid me in life, you can serve me in death." 

The dragon vanished. Jaro stepped back, and realised he had crossed the full length of the hall in the blink of an eye. He stood tall over Devna, fangs showing. 

“Cats were always my least favourite species," he said, effortlessly snatching her rifle. “Natural cowards." She cried out as the Impaler sank his fangs into her neck, blood haemorrhaging onto her clothes, the screams curdling Jaro's nerves. 

The others opened fire, Kadir's bullets peppering the vampire's legs, as ineffectual as ever. Dracula shook his neck like an alligator, hurling the snow leopard across the room and into the wall. She smacked into it with a thud, sliding down the wall with a red smear behind her.

The Dragon twisted. “How desperately you cling to such a pithy coil!" 

Jaro ran in, swiping at the vampire's face with his silver wrist-blades. Dracula moved so fast Jaro hardly saw it happen, the red scales blurring as the dragon vanished the instant Jaro's blades came close to touching him. Dracula whirled, tail sweeping across the floor. 

Jaro jumped over the sweep, his wings bursting free as he was lifted up, seizing hold of the dragon's horn and punching the blades into his neck again and again. 

“Silver is like any pain," Dracula said, reaching up and crushing Jaro's entire face in his claw. “One builds a tolerance over the years." Jaro snarled into his palm as the vampire pulled him down, tiles exploding around his skull as Dracula smashed him through the stone. “What half-measured abomination has Zakhar made now?" His claws dug into the hide on Jaro's ribs, ripping it free like skin from a chicken. Bone was exposed to open air, Dracula's eyes bulging as he saw the lobotomised parasite clinging to Jaro's heart. 

“Lo, a sliver of my own seed," he said, his tone approaching melancholy. “Crippled and weak. This was his answer? This was the dagger he sought to plunge in my heart?"

“Get away from him you leech!" Frankie cried, dropping to one knee and raising her rocket launcher. Dracula seemed uninterested, sparing only half a glance for the dingo's effort. The missile launched with a shunk, hurtling through the air and colliding with Dracula's shoulder. It erupted into a huge ball of fire, rocking him back a step, the heat scorching Jaro's face. As the light faded away, he saw the dragon stumble, momentarily shaken. With a snarl, the vampire emperor shook the embers from his coat, unperturbed. 

“So thou can surprise," Dracula tutted. 

That was our last rocket. Smoke curled around the vampire's form, as Jaro felt the realisation sinking in. None of our tools will work. 

Frankie discarded the spent rocket launcher with a clang, lifting her shotgun up and unloading it at Dracula, racking the pump with lightning speed. 

Get up. Jaro rolled over, pushing himself up from the cold stone. His lips peeled back, fangs dripping with venom. Get up! They need you!

“Why don't any of you bastards just die?!" Frankie growled, the trigger clicking empty on her gun. She hurled the shotgun at Dracula, who simply leaned aside as it flew past him. 

He narrowed his eyes at her, bemused. “A flicker of resistance, so easily extinguished. Pity." Frankie drew her pistol, firing at the vampire as he rushed towards her, a dark blur of red and violence. He burst into existence before her, a massive claw wrapped around the front barrel of her gun. “My grandspawn," he said, staring at her chest. “How sickening it is to see the royal line distilled by such filth."

Frankie squeezed a shot into the vampire's palm. The bullet didn't even make it through, as Dracula crushed the barrel like it was paper.

“Oath," Frankie gasped. Dracula shoved her into the ground with ease, stone cracking as another wave of dust burst out around them. Jaro shoved to his feet, chest itching as the flesh slowly reknit across his ribs. Dracula kicked Frankie aside like an unwanted dog, the dingo's body tumbling and bouncing over the tiles.

Ioana ran into the fray, firing up at the back of Dracula's skull. Brains and bone blew out of the top, but the wound had re-healed before he'd even turned to face her. As he turned, Kadir dashed forward, sliding across the ground like a soccer player performing a tackle. With both paws he slammed a silver stake into Dracula's thigh, steam hissing out from the wound. 

“Toothless curs," Dracula said, spinning like a tornado. “This is all thy might mustered?" His claw snatched up Ioana, nails digging into her muscles. She was lifted up, hurled metres into the air. Jaro heard a scream as she began to fall, crashing down onto the stone with a horrifying silence. 

“This is the pathetic showing that felled my Lords?" Dracula spun to face Kadir, seizing his wrist and yanking it aside, turning the bones inside to paste with a single squeeze. “How droll." The caracal screamed, agony, a high-pitched wail that Jaro had never heard from him before.

“LET HIM GO!" Kristian cried, voice choking up. He ran for Dracula, a stake clutched in each paw. The vampire regarded the attack with something approaching boredom, moving slow then quick, like an elastic band stretching back before snapping outwards.

Dracula speared forward, pressing his claw into a flat blade and pushing it clean through Kristian's stomach. 

Time slowed to a crawl around Jaro, Kristian's blood hovering in the air, the marten's expression of shock plastered wide across his angular features. Dracula's eyes slid up to meet Jaro's, a tiny grin on the dragon's lips.

“KRISTIAN!" He cried, the ground falling away behind him. 

The marten was still, trembling. The stakes fell from his grip, bouncing onto the ground and rolling away. 

“Ah," Dracula exclaimed, forked tongue licking out over his scaled lips. “I see." With tiny, deliberate motions, he twisted his arm, sliding his elbow around through Kristian's middle. He was slick with red from claw to elbow, stomach-churning cries of suffering dragged up from Kristian's throat with each tug. “Don't come any closer, young one." 

“Don't," Jaro whispered, unable to stop himself. 

“Death awaits. Only a thought away." He straightened up, Kristian's boots dangling off the ground as he lifted up like meat on a skewer. The marten clutched at the dragon's arm, trying to ease the pressure, huffing from the effort all the while. Jaro couldn't stop seeing the blood dripping down his legs, pooling underneath them. “Swear your fealty to me, and I'll let you keep your pet." 

“Never."

He could feel Kristian's panicked thoughts. Images of death, pictures of Jaro's face. (Be strong be strong don't be weak die for this save the others no point it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurtshurtshurtshurts)

Dracula felt them too, his other paw gently caressing Kristian's cheek, the marten trying to pull away. “Calm your errant thoughts. A life so short, and yet here you each are, so eager to throw it away. What has thou accomplished?"

“We… won't… help you…" Kristian grunted, heaving air into his struggling lungs.

“So I shall wait," Dracula said. “The span of thine entire life is but a blink to me. I have seen mountains grow from nothing, I have watched as thousand-year-old institutions rotted and crumbled. I took my realm by force, but I needn't have been so impatient." He leaned closer to Kristian, his eyes still locked with Jaro. “Thou is so impermanent, and everything dies. Everything, except me." 

Jaro stared back, his body shaking with rage. What do I do? Dracula was too fast, if he even thought of trying to free Kristian, the vampire would rip him in half. He glanced around at the others; Devna wasn't moving. Ioana was trying – and failing – to push herself up off the ground. Kadir was crumpled at Dracula's feet, clutching his ruined wrist and staring up at the scene above him. Frankie was missing, and Jaro couldn't feel her presence any longer. 

How many of them are you going to let him kill? 

“It's there, Jaroslav, I see it and know it well," Dracula said, narrowing his eyes. “The cruelty, our natural desire to inflict pain and have pain inflicted. The curse of our kind. Zakhar sought to be free of it, but I discovered true power in the embrace of sin. Victory comes from one who knows what it means to truly suffer, and is unmoved by it. Thou will become my will, Jaroslav, and I will spare you pain." There was no question of it in the vampire's mind. He couldn't fathom something that would disobey. 

The worst part was that he wasn't wrong. Zakhar may have robbed the parasite of its influence, but at his core, Jaro was one of them. A creature of predation that hunted the weak to feed. There was no point in rejecting it. He'd tried to pretend, put up the charade of mortality for the others. What matters more? The image, or reality? Standing alone in an imagined world. He found Kristian again. I don't want to hurt you, I don't want to become something that would hurt you. But maybe that was his fate. I can't move. He had to do something. Anything. What matters more? 

There was no point in denying it. Since Orobos, he'd struggled to relate to the others. They felt slow, weak. For so long I thought of that other side as someone else, trapped inside of me. Two halves vying for control. But that wasn't the case at all. There was no secret monster trying to get out. 

He was the monster. 

“Spare nothing," Jaro said, muscles relaxing as he made his decision. “I've been through enough pain already, it'll take more than that to frighten me."

Jaro's wings exploded out behind him as he kicked off the ground, flying forward in a whirlwind of power. Dracula shook Kristian off his arm, the marten sliding free with a wet sucking sound, collapsing at Kadir's feet. 

The vampire ignored them both, turning to face Jaro as the wolf crashed into him feet-first, wrist-blades slashing downwards. Dracula dodged the wide swipes, both claws squeezing around Jaro's leg. “Enough wriggling, pathetic worm! Thou will serve or die!"

Jaro jack-knifed in the air, flexing his wings as he threw his weight around. The bone in his ankle shattered instantly, skin twisting as Jaro spun in place, kicking out across Dracula's jaw. Ichor splattered free as his wrecked extremity slipped free. 

“Insect!" Dracula hissed, showing his fangs. Jaro jammed his claw right into the dragon's mouth, kicking off his stomach and flipping overhead. He threw all of his weight down Dracula's back, tugging the beast's head upwards and stretching his neck. Inside, bones were ground together noisily.

“Do you know what it feels like to become a meal?!" Jaro hissed, sinking his own teeth into the back of the vampire's neck. Thick dark blood bubbled forth like water from a spring, flooding Jaro's mouth as he sucked it down. Dracula's wings beat fearsomely, lifting the two vampires into the air. Jaro tore his mouth free as they rushed upwards, the dark lord jerking forwards at the last moment, smashing Jaro's body into the ceiling and crushing him there. 

They held for a moment, and then gravity took hold once more, pulling them apart as they both fell. Jaro twisted listlessly, the bones in his foot tingling as they righted themselves. He landed on his feet, dropping to a low stance. On the opposite side of the throne room, Dracula splayed his wings and dropped to the floor. He wiped gore from his mouth, his expression twitching. Hurts, doesn't it?

“All that for a drop of blood. Hardly a victory." 

“So foul," Jaro said, spitting out the last remnants of vampire blood. “You taste like a rotting fish." 

“Petulant insults will get you nowhere." 

Jaro grinned. “Am I under your skin yet, my Lord?" 

Dracula rushed in. His claws slashed and his teeth bit. Jaro danced backwards, slipping beneath strikes from tail, claw, and wing. He stabbed out with his silver blades, punching into Dracula's thighs, slashing at his gut. He moved so fast it made Romulus look slow, practically teleporting from side to side as he tried to break Jaro's resolve.

The longer they went the sloppier the vampire became. “Your bodies will feed my new children! Thou is worthless! Weak!"

“So kill me then," Jaro snapped back. “If you could, you would!"

“I've murdered more than you've ever known!"

“You're complacent, fat on success!"

“Insolent!"

“Slow!"

“Thou doesn't deserve to carry my seed!" Dracula snarled, again reaching for Jaro's ribs. The wolf twisted forwards, extending his wrist-blades and slicing through the dragon's elbow like a butcher cutting salami. Time froze as the limb fell away, hitting the ground with a flop. 

Dracula stared at his limb like it was something he'd never seen before. 

How long has it been since you hurt? Since you felt afraid? Isla had always claimed this was how they won – by reminding the vampires what it felt like to be weak. All that power and you can't use it to crush one, small, weak group of mortals running about your kingdom. 

“What kind of God are you?" Jaro asked. 

“What sort of devil is thee?" Dracula asked back, eyes shaking.

There it is. In his eyes. The fear. 

“The one you deserve," Jaro replied. He redoubled his efforts, slashing and cutting, stabbing, striking out wherever he could.

To the edge of the room Kadir had crawled back to his feet, Ioana was up too. They'd dragged Kristian over to one corner. Devna still wasn't moving, and there was no sign of Frankie at all. Please be alright. 

“You can't have my world!" Jaro cried, catching Dracula's next blow in both paws. The strength ramped up tenfold as the vampire added his psychic weight to it, the stone cracking beneath Jaro's boots. “You can't have my friends!" 

“I will eat the world!" The dragon growled deeply, venom spraying from his fangs. The inside of his mouth seemed to stretch on forever. “I will make you my slave!"

Jaro cried out so hard his throat burned. A wordless screech of hurt and rage, pouring the anger at everything that had happened into himself. The murder of his father, the destruction of Cujac, the horror of Fyodor. The Lady. The Spider. The Dreamless. All of it, swirling together, misery and pain sealing every crack in his psyche. Jaro was untouchable.

“There is," he growled, fingers tightening around the dragon's fist. “Nothing you can do to me, I am not afraid of you!"

He dropped his grip, letting the vampire's claw slip free and puncture through Jaro's shoulder. Pain ten times worse than any silver stake ripped Jaro in half. Pushing through, the wolf stretched his wrist out, digging his silver blades up through Dracula's jaw.

Steam and heat burst free, a deep howl emanating out from the dragon's throat. Jaro didn't give up, ripping free of Dracula's blow as the vampire tried to wriggle free. He bit and slashed, clinging to his side as the dragon shook violently. 

“I'll take your arms, your teeth," Jaro snarled, letting go and rolling aside. He sprung back up onto the vampire's back, bracing his knees in the centre of his ridged spine, both paws digging in deep at the base of his leathery wings. “I'll take everything you have to give!" He cried with effort, muscle stretching as he ripped the wings away, black ichor gushing, the stench nauseating as it bubbled and flowed like sewerage. Dracula howled in pain, finally managing to beat Jaro off with his tail, scampering back. 

The vampire lowered his remaining claw. Jaro felt the tiredness bleeding through Dracula's presence, the worry that maybe this wasn't the same as every other time.

He stood there, trembling. A red dragon, one arm held protectively across his front, the other a barely reformed lump of crimson clay. His wings sat littered on the stone, twitching faintly. 

“I want it, I deserve it," Jaro said. “Your life."

“Thou fights a losing battle," the vampire replied, his voice still as the grave. Jaro had done a lot of damage, but already the vampire was healing. “Resisting me is like resisting the turning of the world." 

Jaro didn't bother replying. How long can I keep this up?  

“I will make you weep a…" Dracula paused, ears perking up. Jaro's joined in a moment later. There was something humming beyond the wall, something mechanical, something alive. The dragon took a step towards his treasury. “What trickery awaits?" 

An engine surged, and the wall dividing the two rooms exploded as Frankie's truck came barreling through. The dingo whooped, gunning it towards the vampire. 

Jaro dove for Dracula's legs, wrist-blades spearing through his shin and pinning him in place.

“FILTH!" Dracula roared, a moment before the truck slammed into his side. 

Frankie cried out, refusing to let up on the gas as she steamed full-bore towards the great stained-glass window. Jaro caught a glimpse of Dracula reaching up over the front of the truck's hood, fury contorting his features. 

“DIE YOU OLD CUNT!" Frankie cried, as the truck crashed through the window. 

“Frankie!" Jaro cried, instinctively reaching out towards the chaos. Cracks exploded through the glass, red tinted panes exploding out in a hailstorm of shattered glass. Dracula and the truck soared out over the edge, tumbling into the pale darkness.

Jaro ran to the shattered window, stopping at the lip as the wind buffeted him. Staring down into the thin pre-dawn light, Jaro watched as the truck plummeted towards the Earth. There was a brief pause of silence, and then the truck smashed into the ground. Metal exploded outwards in a huge cloud of dust and debris, flattening a small copse of trees as it rolled violently through the dirt.

“Holy shit," Jaro whispered. He glanced back at the others and saw Kadir bracing Kristian against the wall. Alive enough for now. 

He leapt out into the air, falling like a stone through the air, thrown from side to side by the winds, his wings bursting out as he came close to the floor. His legs swung down as he caught himself on the air, descent slowing as he dropped to his feet on the cold Nightworld soil.

The truck chassis laid on its side, battered almost beyond recognition, the front end completely crumpled. Jaro rushed to the window, peering in. Frankie was pinned inside by the warped metal, blood dribbling down her front. She was panting hard, heaving in great big gulps of air. 

“Frankie, Frankie, can you hear me?" He asked, reaching in. 

“Yup," she coughed, a pink grin spreading across her face. “Can't feel my bloody legs though, can I?" 

“I'm gonna get you out," Jaro said. 

“No, no, I'm right as rain mate, just… think about him." She lifted a broken arm shakily, pointing in the distance. Jaro followed her gaze several metres, to the place where Dracula crawled. Reluctantly, Jaro left her in the wreck, approaching the vampire from behind.

His body had fared far worse than Frankie's. His torso had been split in half, entrails dragging behind him like ribbons. Fractured bones poked up free from his scales like rocks on the coast, all of it coated filth and grime.

“You…. you… p-pathetic…" Dracula groaned, dragging himself forward another half-metre, slow going with only one arm. Jaro wasn't sure where he was trying to get to, just away. 

“The sun is coming," he said softly, looking to the mountains. Light was rising, already bleeding through the clouds. The border began in the distance, starting to race towards them. Jaro could see the day.

“No… My will…" Dracula looked up. 

“How long has it been since you felt the sun?" 

The vampire stopped. Jaro waited, several metres back, as the sun grew closer and closer. Finally it crossed past the trees, reaching over the Homunculus and its piled up bodies of dead thralls, each of the undead servants burning up in the light. 

“For all the peace you'll never find," Jaro whispered. “For all the misery you've birthed. Did you think that was free? You've followed the rope to its end."

He stepped back as the sun began to reach Dracula. Criss-crossing embers raced across his frame, smoke rising as his flesh began to burn to ash. 

“I am the hurt, the hate all men carry," Dracula said, staring forwards. “I am the death of all that is good. The end of hope. I have seen things you people wouldn't believe, worlds of power, unfathomable reality. I saw infinity, and I almost had it." His body fell inwards, sinking to a smoking heap as flames licked up across him, every bone and scale bursting into blackened soot. 

A dark smear in the dirt, ready to be washed away with the next rain. That was all that remained of the original sin. 

Jaro spat. The Dracul Reign is over. 

Rushing to keep ahead of the sun, Jaro returned to Frankie's side in the truck. The dingo hung forward, her expression distant.

Jaro banged the side of her truck. “Hey, Franks, the sun is coming, we gotta go. Push yourself back and I'll pull this metal off you." 

“Yeah… nah, I don't reckon so mate," she replied, tugging a crumpled packet of cigarettes from her shirt pocket. She pulled one out, not lighting it, only staring.

“You're not mortal anymore," Jaro said. “The sun is gonna hurt you. It'll kill you." He reached for her once more, and the dingo pushed him back. 

“No," she said. “I said no. Don't you remember, I always said I'm gonna kill Dracula, and go someplace warm." She inhaled deeply, flicking the cigarette onto the ruined dash. “That sun looks pretty warm. You better go back to your boys." 

“Frankie…" Jaro felt tears pushing on the back of his eyes, a great hole swelling his chest. “Come on, stop that. We did it, we can cure you, I promise."

“This is what I want mate." She looked up at him, smiling. “I'm gonna go see me sister, she's had it too easy without me riding her case all these years." She laughed, shaking her head. “Look at us, saviours of fucking Europe."

“Yeah, yeah that's right," Jaro said. The world was blurring through the tears. The sun was getting closer, it hadn't hit directly, but he felt the warmth encroaching, his hide itching as it begged him to get away. “Please don't."

“You better go." 

“Yeah," he said, swallowing tightly. It felt so wrong leaving his friend behind to die. It's what she wants. “You're the best friend I had, y'know? Goodbye, Frankie." 

“Seeya mate, make sure you tell Kadir he's a sick cunt, aye? The rest too. You guys were the best." 

“Yeah… you too." 

And then he left her there, to burn up in the sun.

As Dracula died, each one of his thralls was quick to follow. The Homunculus seemed to rest after that, laying down in a great heap of otherworldly flesh.

Devna didn't get up again, and Jaro closed her eyes, thanking her for all the times she'd saved his life.

“Jaroslav," Ioana said, touching his shoulder. “Kristian is dying."

No, he thought, standing up. He almost couldn't bear to go to the marten. No please, I can't lose him too. 

“Jaro!" Kadir cried, choking up. “He needs a doctor, for fuck's sake!" 

That snapped him out of his stupour, and Jaro rushed to the marten's side. His midsection was wrapped overly tight with bandages, anything to stem the bleeding. 

“He needs surgery," Jaro said, panic rising in his throat. “Modern surgery, I can't do this. Please, Kristian, I need you, I need you to live, please." 

“I… oh…" The marten blinked dizzily. “It's alright, Jaro." 

“No!" Jaro cried, punching the floor hard enough the stone cracked. “It's not okay! Enough!" He grabbed a cloak, wrapping it around himself and lifting the marten up. “C'mon, we go for the Source." 

“This way Jaro, there is an elevator!" Ioana said, leading them out of the throne room.

“Keep talking to me," Jaro said, looking down at the doctor. He seemed so small and weak now. He was never a fighter, he just wanted to understand things. “Kristian, you and Kadir are the best people I ever met, you have to keep talking to me, alright?" 

“Hurry up, hurry up!" Kadir growled. “Jaro, can't you fly him down?"

“Too dangerous, he needs smooth motions," Jaro replied. “Kristian, damn it, speak!"

“I… ah…" The marten replied. He pawed up at Jaro's face. “I'm s-sorry, so sorry." 

“It's alright, it's okay, just hold on, please." Frankie and Devna were dead, so was Isla, and probably Noah too. Dracula was gone. We won, damn it. It felt so unfair for Kristian to die now. I've lost too many people!

“Keep up, let's go" Kadir said, hurrying to keep up as they made their way towards the cave containing the Source. “Once we're through, there's a helicopter waiting at the camp. Hold on Kristian!" 

“Ioana, you need to go with them," Jaro said to the fox, as she climbed down into the cut in the ground. Jaro jumped down, trying not to jostle Kristian too bad. 

“What do you mean…" Kristian moaned. “Go… with them?" 

“Ioana is going with you. To keep you safe," Jaro insisted. 

“Of course, of course," Ioana said.

The marten frowned up at him. “And… you?" 

Jaro didn't answer, rushing down the stone path to where the Source stood. It wavered, still in place. The team didn't hesitate, pushing through as the sickening force pummelled their minds. Jaro remained upright this time, stumbling through with Kristian still in his arms. 

Soldiers lounged around the gateway, but as they saw figures actually breaching the divide they rushed to their feet, guns raising up.

“It's me, it's me, you idiots!" Kadir growled. “Lower your weapons, stand down, get me a stretcher, have the helicopter prepped. We need to get to Charlie Site, someone radio the damn medics and wake them up!" 

A chorus of 'yes sirs' sounded as they soldiers sprang into action. 

“You're gonna be okay, you'll be alright," Jaro said, smiling down at Kristian. 

“What about… y-you?" 

“Huh?" Kadir glanced back at them. “What does he mean Jaro? We're here, we did it." 

The soldiers returned, laying a stretcher down on the stone floor. Jaro gently placed Kristian atop it, planting a soft kiss on his forehead. 

“Jaro," Kadir growled. “We fucking won." 

“Not yet," Jaro said, blinking slowly. His heart ached in his chest. “Nightworld is too dangerous to be left alone." 

“We'll blow the charges, the portal will close!" 

“How long until it opens again?" Jaro pushed a soldier back, snatching the detonator from his paw and passing it to Ioana. “Press this as soon as I go through." 

She nodded. 

“Jaro, fucking no!" Kadir snarled. Kristian had already been carried away. Good. He'll live, and I don't have to watch him cry as I go. “We won! Ioana, do not press that!" 

“There are still New Vampires out there," Jaro said, stepping back. “How long until another vampire fills the vacuum Dracula left? Nightworld has to be controlled, or this could happen again."

“So we'll send armies in!" Kadir sniffed, wiping tears from his face. “Please. Don't do this. We're so close to being happy, together!" 

“I don't belong in this world, Kadir. I shouldn't exist." 

“Fine. Then I'll come with you." He stepped forward, and Jaro put a firm paw on his chest, pushing him away.

“No. I love you, but Kristian needs you." 

“Jaro–" He cut the caracal off with a kiss, short, sweet. As he broke away, he stepped back, inching back into the Source. Kadir reached out. “Please…" 

The last thing Jaro saw was the love of his life, trying to touch him one last time, begging him to stay as he walked away. Finally, the world contracted and closed, and Jaro was back in the cave.

Back in Nightworld. 

He stared at the warping wall, tears streaming down his face, indecision eating away at his gut. Was that the right choice? He wanted nothing more than to be with them. He didn't want to live in this terrifying nightmare world, ruling over peasants and monsters. 

But this is where you belong now. 

Is it? Do I deserve this?

Maybe he could go back through. There was enough time. Forget Nightworld, leave it as someone else's problem? Europe was nice at night, and then he could be with Kadir. 

No. But already he felt so alone. 

Jaro reached out towards the Source, and then it vanished. 

He was left with his claw braced on a cold cave wall. 

Ioana blew the charges. I'm here forever. 

It began to sink in. You'll never see them again. Never hear Kadir growl orders or argue back, never see Kristian get fervently excited over a new discovery. He sobbed against the wall, racked with tears, terrified he made the wrong choice, but knowing deep down it was the only one he could.

Jaro was alone, in the place he belonged. 

In Nightworld.