NIGHTWORLD

09: Bloodbath

Cujac was awash with activity when Jaro returned, the rest of the group in tow. Kristian's wound had slowed them slightly, but Frankie had hung back a bit to help him keep pace and in the end they'd made good time. 

None of them spoke to Jaro during the journey, and likewise he'd spent the majority of the trip trying to remain up the front, avoiding the awkward eye-contact whenever possible.

Frankie saw him as a monster-in-waiting, a threat to be watched. Ioana thought him selfish, and uncaring of her people's struggles. And as for Kristian…

As soon as he awoke that morning, the shame of what he'd done was there. Regret was sour, and it festered in his stomach the entire journey back. The sex was one thing, but admitting what had happened with Romulus and Kadir? Hinting that he may have enjoyed it? Jaro felt disgusted with himself, he couldn't begin to imagine what Kristian thought of him now.

And Kadir. He wasn't even there, and you somehow let him down too. 

When they finally returned to Cujac, Jaro breathed a sigh of relief. The villagers were all out and about – apparently celebrating a local holiday – and the air of festivity and joy was a more than welcome distraction from his frustrated thoughts. Everywhere he looked people were hanging flags and waving symbols in the air, shouting out praises and singing requiems to their sacred Martyrs.

Team Two had beaten them back, and were all scattered around outside the church in the centre of town. Jaro got a few nods of greeting, but the attitudes seemed grim, each of the members busying themselves with the task of packing their equipment. 

Smiles all round, Jaro thought, wondering what bad news they'd found out west.

Ioana quickly made herself scarce, and as Frankie split off towards Noah with Kristian under one arm, Jaro decided to seek Isla out. 

He found the shrewd Doberman arguing with a Cujac local, who was gesturing at a small cartful of hides, while Isla continued to cross her arms, ears folded back in annoyance. 

“You need! Very cold in the south! There is ice!" The man, a wide gopher, insisted. “Fraught! Very fraught!"

“Da, with ice, I hear you! Our equipment is sufficient!" Isla argued back. 

“No-no," the man insisted, shaking his head as if speaking to a small child. “Very cold, brrr." He gave her a demonstration of a shiver. “I have see brothers and friends lose toes and tails. You need Asic's hides, you need!" 

“I do not need!" Isla growled, puffing her chest up and closing in on the man. “For the last time, we are perfectly supplied against the elements! Now, make yourself gone from this place, before I do it for you!" 

The gopher threw his large paws up, shaking his head. “Regretful woman, you will see when the ice turns you blind!" Isla looked on the verge of drawing her gun on him, but thankfully the man realised he was beat and lifted up his cart by the handles, trundling off So towards town.

“Are we packing up to leave then?" Jaro asked in English, sidling up next to the scowling dog.

“Jaro, good, you're back," Isla sighed, shaking her head. “But da. The locals are not the most tight-lipped, so now everyone and their mother is trying to sell us something, even worse since they discovered we have silver and gold."

“Does that mean that you found a lead out west?" 

Isla narrowed her eyes at him, sniffing sharply. “I think you are the one who is to be reporting, Mister Tamasi." She paused. “But… yes, we did." Another weary sigh overcame the old Russian, and she pinched the bridge of her nose, turning back to face the church.

Jaro licked his teeth. “Things don't look good, I take it?" 

“Not good at all. We tracked Team One to a small village and… I don't know exactly what happened, but there was definitely trouble. I am having no doubt in my mind Jaro, Team One needs relief, but it is seeming that… not everyone has been their most helpful."

Isla seemed on the cusp of saying more, when the sounds of an argument by the church drew their attention. 

Jaro's stomach turned as he saw Frankie and Kadir neck-deep in a heated discussion, and although they were too far away to hear exactly what was being said, there was no mistaking Frankie's furious pointing in Jaro's direction. Kadir made a slicing gesture with one paw, before pointing in the opposite direction. 

“Oh, what is this now?" Isla asked, raising an eyebrow. “More insubordination?"

Insubordination? What's that supposed to mean?

Jaro frowned, but decided to leave it. “Frankie and I we…" he threw his paws up. “She found out about my infection."

“I see. She would not have been pleased."

She didn't look pleased. Finally Kadir shoved her back, turning on his heel and snatching a rifle from the box by his side. Frankie glared a few more daggers his way, before flipping him off and storming away into the church. 

“Kadir… can you handle nothing alone?" Isla grunted, as the caracal made a bee-line for them. As he approached he raised the rifle, shoving it into Jaro's paws. 

“We only have so many guns, do not make a habit of losing them," he growled. He then turned to Isla, thumbing back towards the church. “She isn't pleased." 

“Oh, you think?" The Doberman replied icily. “I am wondering why."

Kadir glowered at Jaro. “No shit. Seems that some of us don't know what it means to keep a secret."

“Look, I did my best Kadir, alright? It was unavoidable."

The caracal ignored him. “This could get nasty quick, Isla." 

The Doberman sucked in a sharp breath. “Jaroslav… please tell me this was not all for nothing?"

Fingering the thin strip of fabric Chevron had given him to study, Jaro only nodded. He doubted Isla would appreciate the full explanation right then and there. “It wasn't, I promise. We won't be caught by surprise again."

“See that you are not," she added, before gesturing toward the church. “I will deal with Francesca. Kadir… can you… just keep him away from her, at least for now." 

“Trying to get rid of me, Isla?" 

“Not another fucking word," Isla ordered, before finally taking off in Frankie's direction. 

Kadir watched her go, before glancing across to Jaro. “Let me ask you something, it true you killed a vampire?"

He nodded. “She was holding Chevron hostage, wanted to offer her as tribute for Dracula. Didn't have much choice." 

The caracal leaned in, squeezing Jaro's bicep. “Good. Every one of them we destroy is another reminder they're not immortal. It puts fear into them. For the ancients, that's something they haven't felt in a very long time." 

“I don't know," Jaro replied. “The way the Lady spoke? Sounded to me like the Cortège has no idea who she is. She was trying to get noticed, wanted to become a Lord." 

Kadir grunted. “Then we know they have power struggles. The vampire kingdom is not a monolith, and that can be exploited." He waved the thought away. “Come on, Isla isn't moving us on until tomorrow, we'll drink."

Before Jaro could agree, Kadir strode off purposefully, leaving him to hurry to catch up. They continued to draw stares from the villagers as the two crossed through the town square, heading down one of the alleyways towards a tall brick building brimming with noise. 

Kadir pushed past the small bumbling crowd milling outside, and was two steps through the door when a huge ram stepped before him, arms crossed. 

“I'm sorry?" Kadir asked, looking back at Jaro. 

“Weapons, not allowed," the ram said in Wallachian, pointing towards Kadir's rifle slung on his back. “Drink and blades don't mix. We will store."

“He says no weapons," Jaro explained, slipping his rifle off and drawing his pistol, placing them down gently on the bench to one side. “We'll get them back." 

“They stay," Kadir growled. The ram didn't know English, but it was clear from the caracal's raised hackles what he meant.

Jaro sighed. Can't anything just be easy, for once?

“No. Weapons." The ram stepped forward, puffing his chest up further. Around the entrance, Jaro saw several others lowering their paws to clubs hanging by their waist. He quickly slipped between Kadir and the bouncer, smiling apologetically. 

“Sorry, no disrespect, we're… new." He gestured to their clothing, before giving Kadir a sharp look. “C'mon man, what, you think Dracula's gonna spring up out of the ground here and now?" 

Kadir only continued to glare at the ram, but after a few agonising seconds, slowly removed his guns and placed them on the bench. “He might," he whispered.

Ignoring the ram's shaking head, Kadir shoved past, taking them to a booth seat in the back corner. He gestured for Jaro to take a seat, before heading for the bar.

Sitting down with a sigh, Jaro regarded the noisy tavern. It was a larger room, with a mezzanine floor above and colourful flags adorning the walls. A small band equipped with drums and lutes played a rhythmic tune, and some of the villagers nearby were even dancing.

“All our Gods are martyrs," that's what Ioana said. It made a certain sort of sense to Jaro, oddly enough. In a world ruled by bloodthirsty monsters, the people needed some way to help make sense of it all.

Through the busy midsection of tables Jaro caught sight of Ioana's brother – Vasile – wedged into a small seat at a large table. The burly fox was surrounded by empty jugs and stripped bones, loudly guffawing at his drinking mates. 

Kadir reappeared out of the crowd, a wooden tankard held in each paw.

“No matter how backwards a culture is, you can always have faith that people will find some way to make alcohol," he said, sliding into his seat. Jaro accepted one of the drinks, sipping the dark-coloured ale and trying not to scowl at the bitter taste.

He watched Kadir take his own sip, sighing deeply. 

“You don't have a problem with alcohol?" Jaro asked, leaning back in his seat.

As he did, the exhaustion washed over him like a wave of thick molasses. Their time in the Deadlands had been one crisis to the next, and even though it had technically been a success, he couldn't help feeling that it ended in failure. It was nice to actually sit down and relax for a change, even if it was with someone as prickly as Kadir. 

The caracal snorted, cocking his head. “Oh yeah, because I'm Turkish, I must be an ardent Muslim? You sound like an American calling us Arabs." 

“Kadir I… didn't mean it like that. I've just knew a few guys in the Legion and they–" 

“Let me ask you this, is our team's Hungarian a devout Catholic?" When Jaro hesitated, Kadir shook his head. “Why not? Devout country, and you're a wolf – how many Wolven Catholics are there in Hungary? So you must be one too, right?"  

Jaro threw his paws up. “For God's sake Kadir, are you gonna attack me about everything? It was a simple fucking question, have you ever made small talk before? I know you don't like me, but that doesn't mean you have to be at my throat every second of every day." 

The caracal took a deep breath, his twitching ears steadying themselves. “It's an ignorant question, Jaro – you're assuming something about me, just because of where I'm from. My father always said that ignorance is the world's greatest killer, greater than all the bombs and despots of the world combined – because ignorance is what allows those despots to use their bombs."

Now it was Jaro's turn to raise an eyebrow; out of everyone in Team Two, Kadir would have been the last person he expected a kumbaya from. “You're the one who called these people backwards, Kadir, we're not all perfect," he said, drawing a sly smile from the caracal. “But you… aren't wrong. I'm sorry." 

Kadir shrugged. “Don't be sorry, Jaro, just be better." He knocked back another mouthful of ale.

Jaro looked back out at the celebrating tavern, to where Vasile was loudly receiving another round of drinks and meat.

He cleared his throat. “By the way, since you did ask… my father was Catholic. I mean… he is Catholic."

Kadir grinned. “And I was raised in Islam." 

“You bastard," Jaro replied, laughing. 

“The point remains the same," Kadir said. “Your father was… but not yourself?" 

“It's more complicated than that. Especially now." 

Kadir nodded. “Mm, Nightworld complicates things. When I was younger, I thought there was nowhere God's light couldn't shine, but between you and me… I don't think He can find this place. Even if He could, I don't think He'd want to."

Jaro didn't know what to say to that, and he let the conversation die there, staring into his ale. All around them the sounds of festivity went on. Nightworld was a depressing place, but clearly it wasn't totally devoid of spirit.

These people are still living, even if it is in the shadow of a great monster. Dracula couldn't kill that.

“So then… did you find it?" Kadir asked eventually, rapping his knuckles on the table. He glanced once around suspiciously, before leaning in closer. “A way to stop them getting into our heads?" 

“Sort of," Jaro replied, pulling out Chevron's rag. He laid it flat on the rough hewn table, pointing out the symbols. “According to Cujac's mystic, we stare at these and memorise them, then redraw them in our head whenever Romulus is near. As she explained it, they form a kind of… mental barrier, I guess."

“This is it?" Kadir asked, picking up the rag and sneering. “Our best defence against Romulus is positive thinking?" 

“That's it."

The caracal groaned, tossing the rag back to Jaro. “Why, oh fucking why, did there have to be normal people living here? Isla wanted to bomb it, you know?" 

“She… what?" Jaro sat up at that, frowning deep. “You mean, bomb this whole world?" 

“At least enough of it to make sure the vampires couldn't come through again. Shove half dozen nukes through the Source and forget it ever existed, even they wouldn't survive that. Unfortunately, her husband convinced her to make sure we weren't committing the most heinous war-crime of all time before we did that." Kadir laughed, running a paw over the top of his head. “At least then we could have plausible deniability, tell ourselves there was nothing but monsters out here." 

“I didn't even realise Isla had a husband," Jaro admitted. It felt like he'd been part of Isla's program for his entire life, but there'd only been a few hours between when he woke up on that train, to when she dragged him through the Source. Even after that, it had been what… less than six or seven nights since they first came to Nightworld? 

Not a long time at all.

You don't know these people, don't forget that. Suddenly what he'd done with Kristian the night before seemed even more ill-advised. How could he fuck it all up this much, and this quickly? 

“His name is Fyodor," Kadir said. “He's a lot like her in many ways, but different in others too. Isla's fair, but to her, the world is very simple; there are problems and solutions, and it's her job to connect the two. People can be either one of those, but nothing else. Fyodor is softer. He ran operations, while Isla usually managed the bigger picture. Think of her like the emperor, and he was her general." 

“What happened to him then, where is he?" 

Kadir sniffed, downing another mouthful of ale. “You don't think it's obvious? For all her impenetrability, our esteemed director has one fatal blind spot. Let me ask you this, do you really think Isla would be half as hellbent on recovering Team One, if her husband hadn't been leading it?" 

“Oh…" Jaro nodded. Suddenly it all made sense. “She said there was trouble." 

“They're fucking dead," Kadir said, his voice flat. “But without a body she's got it in her head that somehow Fyodor managed to survive all the shit that went down." He reached back into a pouch, pulling free a small notebook filled with hastily scribbled notes. He laid it flat, opening up to a small sketched-out map. “The whole village was destroyed. Half of Team One were there in pieces. I'm talking entire buildings that were cut in half, up to our ankles in gore… it was a complete bloodbath, we could barely identify the bodies. The locals that did survive didn't want shit to do with us, but Devna got it out of them; those of ours that lived were apparently taken here." He flicked to the next page, which was another map, this one drawn as if seen from higher up.

Cujac was at the top of the page, with an arrow pointing north labelled 'GODHEAD'. Below Cujac to either side he saw what must have been the Deadlands, and west of that was the small settlement Isla had led them to. Far south of everything was a big spiralling circle, a black pit. 

“Locals call this the Steambreather." Kadir held his eyes, shaking his head. “It's an abattoir run by one of the Cortège. Nobody here will even say his name, they just call him the Lambcatcher, the Lord of Blood."

Jaro stared at the black circle on the page, stomach falling. “I see. It's not a place for prisoners." 

“It's a meat grinder, and from what I gather, an enormous one. Unfortunately," Kadir sighed, slamming his notebook shut and slipping it away. “Isla doesn't see it that way. I tried to explain how futile this mission was but… like I said, it's a blind spot for her. She wasn't happy I disagreed with her."

Jaro nodded slowly. That explained why things had felt so weird between Kadir and Isla back at the church. No wonder she was so keen to send us off.

“So… what do we do then?" Jaro asked, lowering his voice as he leaned in. “Going to a place like that… Kadir, you know that's a death sentence."

“I do, but Noah and Devna voted against me, and I can bet which way Frankie would swing. The others didn't see what we saw, Jaro, inside that castle. The rest of these guys, they only think they know about vampires. The truth is the ones we've seen crawling through to our world are pathetic… easy prey. The Vermilions?" He threw his paws up in defeat. “Basically Gods."

Silence fell over the table as the two of them finished their drinks. Isla had played down the severity of what they'd found, and Jaro already knew disagreeing with her was a lost cause. But fighting the Lady had been difficult enough, they'd only just scraped by. A true Vermilion Lord, with an army of thralls and Black Tongues behind them? 

It felt impossible. 

Jaro's ears pricked up as he caught the sound of a familiar voice, shouting angrily in Wallachian too fast for him to catch. 

“Oh, it's one of yours," Kadir said, as Jaro turned to see Ioana standing over Vasile's table, yelling at him. 

She was clearly pissed, gesturing frantically around at the table, meanwhile Vasile was pissed in an entirely different way. He looked to be holding in a bellyful of laughter, swaying slightly in his seat. 

“Ioana, come now," one of Vasile's drunk friends began, climbing from his seat. “This is not the place to be doing this and–" 

He reached out to her and she smacked his paw away, shoving into his face. 

“Do not fucking speak, Marlo!" She snarled, as the rest of the table – except Vasile – all suddenly rose to their feet. “Call yourselves friends? You have done enough, swine!" 

“God damn you Ioana," Jaro groaned, sliding from his seat and hurrying over. The older fox had turned back on her brother by the time he arrived, pointing down at him like a naughty child. 

“I am gone only two nights, TWO! And for even that you cannot control yourself? How are you supposed to be leading this town from danger, when you cannot avoid this stupidity yourself?!" 

“Io…ana…" Vasile began, wavering sloppily. “I was attacked! Swear! I am the victim of… a great danger…" He grinned, glancing at his mates, who looked half ready to kick Ioana's teeth in, and half ready to break out in drunken song. “...my own two paws, each wielding a deadly weapon!" And with that he threw a tankard into the air. 

“You are an idiot," Ioana snapped. 

Jaro slid up beside her, laying a paw on her shoulder. “Ioana, maybe this should happen elsewhere…" he said, earning himself a sharp glare. 

“You? No – now is not the time for you." Her shoulders fell suddenly, and she turned back to her brother, deflated. “Vasile, I know it is… hard. But how can you do this to me, please? After all that we have been going through you…" She glanced at Jaro, and he saw her eyes were welled up with tears. 

He only shrugged, turning back to his full tankard and staring into it. “Is done now," he grunted. “No point getting so worked up." 

“You are a bastard, Vasile," she snapped, spitting at his feet. 

“Enough disrespect!" Marlo growled, shoving forward suddenly. “Vasile is a great man, who won't be talked down to–"

Jaro stepped between him and Ioana, shaking his head. “Not a good idea, friend." 

“I am not your bastard friend," Marlo hissed, slurring his words. “This barren bitch should not be disrespecting our leader! Vasile is–"

“You shut your bloody mouth too, Marlo," Vasile growled, standing so forcefully his chair was thrown over backwards. “That's my sister." 

“That gives her no right!" Marlo cried back. 

“Vasile, don't–" Ioana begged, grabbing her brother's arm. 

Marlo sneered at Jaro. “Move, foreigner." 

Vasile roared suddenly, swinging for Marlo's head. Jaro ducked as the fight broke out around him, the table flipping over as two drunken friends leapt across it. 

Jaro was shoved backwards, colliding with a tall horse and splashing his drink in his face. He quickly picked himself up, throwing his paws up. “No, I apologise I–" The horse was having none of it, and instantly went to strike at Jaro when Kadir slammed into his side, knocking him into a pillar and breaking his nose with a headbutt. 

“Jaro, how? You were gone for two minutes!" The caracal cried, wiping blood from his forehead as he left the horse stumbling away.

The fight rippled out across the tavern like a wave, as chairs were sent flying and teeth were sent spraying. Some of Vasile's friends were busy fighting each other, while others kept trying to go for Jaro. He ducked away from them, easily tripping them up. Ioana tugged Vasile away, but the larger fox kept throwing himself back into the melee, swinging his big cinderblock fists at whoever was closest, roaring all the while. 

Someone big took Jaro in a bear-hug from behind, lifting him off the floor and slamming him back down on a table, scattering all the plates and cups as he kicked free of the stranger, rolling off the other side and quickly scurrying forward so as not to be trampled. 

Kadir pulled him to his feet, punching another drunken brawler, before diving back and seizing Vasile. “Come, you fat oaf!" He cried in English, as Ioana and Jaro came to help drag the big fox. 

They rode him through the sea of chaos like a battering ram, bumping through tables, Jaro occasionally shoving one of the confused fighters out of the way. It was deafening, an entire room full of boorish, drunken men all attacking each other for no apparent reason. 

“Shove him, shove!" Kadir demanded, throwing himself against Vasile as the fox tried to get back into the mix. 

“Let me back at them, you bastards!" He bellowed, managing to snag a nearby bystanders head and slam it down into a table, cackling with laughter. “I am not having this much fun in years!" 

“Vasile, enough!" Ioana cried, slapping him hard across the face. He blinked in surprise, and then the old fox threw her entire weight into his chest, sending him stumbling backwards and finally crashing out through the tavern door. 

Jaro followed them outside as the big fox went tumbling backwards, foot slipping in the mud as he landed on his ass in a heap, rolling back with his legs in the air, before flopping down on his back like a starfish. 

“MORON!" Ioana screamed, half crying as she slammed the tavern door shut behind them. 

Jaro brushed himself down, leaning against the outside wall as he caught his breath. In the mud Vasile wasn't moving, just panting on his back, staring straight up at the clear sky. 

“I'm sorry, Ioana," he said eventually, his voice very small.

“I am not wanting your bloody apologies!" She snapped back at him. “I want you to be better!" She turned, pointing to herself with both paws. “I cannot do this alone! I need you, and I need you with a clear head!" She spat into the dirt, growling through her teeth. “I know you're sick, I know it isn't… I know, Vasile. But I can't have it." 

“I know, Ioana," Vasile said, still panting in the mud. “I'm sorry." 

Kadir returned then with their weapons, shoving Jaro's rifle into his paws. “What the hell was that?" He asked, looking down at the drunken fox. 

“Someone else's blind spot, I guess," Jaro said. 

“Thank you, again," Ioana said, coming over. “I did not mean for that to get so out of control." 

Jaro nodded. “It's okay, now I get why they checked our weapons." 

“There is a fight nearly every day at this place," Ioana explained, rubbing her eyes. “But I had hoped Vasile's days of starting them were… behind us." 

“Are you hurt?" Jaro asked, wiping at his lip where he'd copped a loose blow.

Ioana only winked. “Takes more than that to get me down, don't you be worrying." She gestured to Vasile. “I should get him home already, dunk him in a trough or something. I–" She was cut off as two sharp horns sounded, blaring across the village. 

“What. Now?" Kadir growled, glaring at Jaro like it was his fault. 

Before them, Ioana had suddenly gone very still. Her eyes darted to Vasile, then back up to Jaro. “That signal… that's…" She turned towards the front of town, before hastily looking to the sky. “It means a member of the Cortège has arrived, but…" 

“It's the middle of the day," Jaro said, brow furrowed, quickly relaying what she said to Kadir. 

“We should leave, now," the caracal said. 

Ioana took one more look at Vasile, before taking off in a sudden sprint, mud flying up behind her boots. 

“Jaro," Kadir said, taking his arm. “They'd only be here for one reason, and these people will not protect us." 

“I…" Jaro knew he was right. Ioana had said as much, really. The best hope for everyone was to run. 

But you can't just leave them, can you? Let down someone else, again? 

“I just want to see," he said. “You go tell Isla, get everyone to start moving. I'll join you shortly." 

“Jaro–" Kadir started to protest, but he was already running after Ioana. 

He weaved through town, slipping past the alleys as the whole of Cujac shuttered around him. Doors were slammed, windows barred, animals brought inside. Anyone who was still on the streets was either dressed in the village armour, or running for their home. 

Why? Why now? Why here? What changed? 

Jaro slipped through a fence, climbing up a stack of barrels and taking up position on the far side of a small shack, staying conscious to keep low as he looked over the building's crest.

As he stared out to the fringes of town, he saw the marching procession.

There were maybe twenty Black Tongues, all dressed in identical chainmail armour. In the centre of the group, twelve men carried a wide, angular tent on the end of long bamboo poles. It was more than a simple shade – this portable gazebo had fabric walls that draped so low they drifted along the ground, dragging mud and filth as they went. Crimson flags flew, with violent ancient symbols embossed upon them. 

A cry sounded, and the tent was promptly stopped, the servants holding it aloft. There was a narrow slit in the front of the tent, although he couldn't see within.

Daylight vampire travel, he thought, glancing up at the sky.

From the clutter of armed onlookers gathered at the edge of the farms, Ioana stepped forward, a few Cujac guards close by her side. 

“To what are we owing this visit! O', great Lords?!" She cried, bowing low. 

At first, she was met by stillness, the Black Tongues not even looking at her.

Finally the front entrance to the large tent blew open as if by a great gust of wind. A tall figure, dressed in shiny black plate armour, came striding through. Their armour covered them head-to-toe, with complex interlocking systems built into the joints to allow seamless movement as they walked.

The helm was fashioned like that of a snarling canine, with layered slits covering the eyes. A fluffy red plume stretched up from the top of the figure's head, blowing gently in the breeze.

Below his perch, Jaro heard some of the locals gasp. 

“That's the Daybreaker."

“Truly? The Daybreaker, here? Why?" 

“The… The L-Lord of Avarice… oh Martyrs preserve our memory, please I beg thee!" 

“Why… oh why, please spare us…"

Jaro nodded, he recognised the armour alright. It was the same set worn by the hyena that had interrupted Romulus's torture, back in the Godhead's Lament. 

Ashani, Jaro thought, watching the pale sunlight gleam off her shoulders. The Daybreaker. Suddenly her moniker made sense.

She stopped only a few metres from Ioana, clearly wanting to be heard. “Hark! Denizens of Cujac! Thoust has been permitted to live peacefully, provided thee remains loyal servants to our great Dread Emperor!" 

“Have we not been loyal!?" Ioana shouted back. 

“You shelter interlopers!" Ashani replied, holding out one metal arm. “Do not bother denying it!" A Black Tongue appeared suddenly, carrying with him a colossal straight sword, maybe five feet long and more than half a foot wide. It was the colour of midnight, Jaro had never seen anything like it. 

It would have been impossible to wield without vampire strength.

The Daybreaker lifted it with one paw, flipping it round to rest on her shoulder. 

“Dracula shall tolerate your insolence no longer!" She bellowed, the helm giving her words a metallic echo. “But I will enjoy making you into meat!"

Without warning, two of Ioana's guards leapt forward, crossbows raised. The old fox cried for them to stop, but it was two late. 

Their bolts bounced off Ashani's armour like pebbles off a tank, and the vampire took it in stride, skipping forward on the balls of her feet, spinning her sword so it was aimed tip-first – before hurling it forward like a javelin. It flew dead straight in an instant, punching through one of the men and lifting him off the ground, carrying him back as it skewered a second poor soul, blowing through a wooden cart like a missile before burying itself deep into the side of a hut. 

“NO!" Ioana screamed, as the town guard broke. Horns began to sound all across Cujac, and half the guards sprinted towards the Daybreaker with swords drawn, while the other half turned to run for their lives. 

“Run or stay, it matters not!" Ashani rolled her neck, bouncing forward again as nearly ten men swarmed her at once. None of the Black Tongues accompanying her retinue made any move to join the fight, merely watching like statues. 

Rip and tear, Jaro thought. 

Ashani crashed into the Cujac men like a ship through ice. She punched one arm clean through the first's chest, hurling the second away like a ragdoll. One of the men tried to stab her with his spear, but she tore it from his grip and swung it through his head, the metal tip cleaving through the guard's skull like it wasn't even there.

She was a blur even in armour, moving at maybe three times the speed of any ordinary person.  

A second passed and two more had their heads ripped clear off their shoulders, even as a fourth guard was split in her claws like a wishbone. One swung a great sledgehammer towards her chest, but even that seemed to have little effect on the Daybreaker's plate. 

Ashani seized him by the neck, pulling him close as the canine jaw of her helmet unhinged, the top popping open to allow her fangs free reign. She dug them into his throat, rending the flesh as blood sprayed across her like warpaint. 

“INSECTS!" The Daybreaker cried, leaping forward ten yards in a single bound, meeting her buried sword and dragging it free with such force that the entire building it was stuck through collapsed in on itself. 

“RUN! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!" Ioana was crying, as horns and terror continued to sound across the village, screams for mercy echoing through the day. It was all happening so fast, Ashani had cut through the first force in a matter of seconds, and already four more lay dead at her feet. Jaro's eyes were barely able to keep up with wanton destruction before him. Some were bifurcated down the middle, most were missing heads or torsos, blood and bone spraying forth as the vampire lord cut and sliced her way into town. 

Jaro caught sight of Ioana rushing towards the vampire, and he tried yelling for her to stop. His words were drowned by the wailing throughout town, and Ashani barely reacted as the older fox drew her handgun and started firing. 

Barely half the bullets connected, but it was enough to get the vampire's attention. Ashani whirled, leaving her sword impaled through a man into the ground. One heartbeat and she was before Ioana, smacking the gun away like it was a toy, before taking the fox by her forearm and hurling her.

Ioana's body was instantly launched into the air, but her arm remained firmly in Ashani's grip. Sinew stretched and snapped as her arm ripped at the shoulder, blood spraying like a tail as she soared.

“No," Jaro whispered, seeing a puff of dust as Ioana's body crashed down into a field of wheat. 

“How quickly mortals break." The Daybreaker dropped the severed arm with a sense of disappointment, retaking her sword and leaping further into the village. 

Time to go, Jaro thought, sliding from the hut and hitting the ground running. The streets had been empty before but they were packed now, women clutching babies, men clutching weapons, children dragging whatever they could carry as they cried and screamed, barely able to keep up with the adults. 

Every denizen flocked towards the centre of town, to the many boats moored near the river – it was the only hope of sanctuary from the vampire's wrath. 

Jaro stumbled as Ashani exploded through two buildings before him, three guards hanging off her, hissing in fury as she turned them to mist, barrelling onward through the next building as if it weren't even there.

They're not doing anything, they aren't even slowing her down, he realised. The Lady in the Deadlands had been strong – the Daybreaker was unstoppable. 

Realising it was useless, he slung his rifle over one shoulder and bolted for the church. Smoke was rising as the Cujac locals tried to burn the bridges crossing the river, hoping to protect themselves for even a moment longer. 

As Jaro sprinted across the town square, he heard more crashes and booms as whole buildings collapsed all around him. The vampire seemed to be everywhere, moving at impossible speeds, circling like a shark. He had no idea they could be that fast. 

Outside the church he found Team Two loading supplies into the small boats. The river was already packed with refugees fleeing, families mostly; rowing and paddling as hard as they could. Nearly all were in the smaller boats, but Jaro even saw a few unlucky souls that had dove in and were trying their best to swim for it. 

Kadir gave him a nod as he returned, and Isla quickly rushed to his side, her ears back and lips peeled into a snarl, a massive revolver raised in one paw.

“About time!" She exclaimed, gesturing around. “We are leaving!" 

“Isla…" said Devna, the snow leopard with the sniper rifle. “I don't know about this, running doesn't sit right. We'll be prey." 

“Too bloody right, I say we stand and fight this!" Frankie concurred, racking her shotgun. 

“No!" Jaro blurted, shoving forward. “No, we need a better plan, we can't fight that! That's one of the Cortège out there – she's killing everything. We have to run!" 

“Yeah nah you would say that, huh?" Frankie sneered. 

“Frankie, if we stay here we will all fucking die!" Jaro screamed at the dingo. He turned back to town, where smoke was quickly filling the air and clouding the sky.

“Isla, listen to me," Kadir said, shoving into the cluster. “Now isn't the time, we've lost the advantage, Jaro's right, we run." 

“Then you are a coward," Devna retorted. 

At that moment, Ashani exploded from the distance, legs pulled up and sword held like a great tail, hurtling up through the air as if she were shot from a catapult. 

“What the fuck?!" Frankie exclaimed, mouth falling in horror as the Daybreaker flew thirty yards through the sky, finally crashing into the steeple of the church like a meteor, chunks of wood and brick exploding as she landed inside it. 

“SO WEAK! ALL SO PITIFULLY WEAK!" Ashani screamed from inside, her sword breaking the remaining wall, the top of the steeple groaning as it snapped, toppling over and flying down before crashing into the roof of the main prayer hall. 

“WHERE ARE YOUR DEAD GODS NOW?!" 

“We go, we go now!" Isla cried, pointing to the boats. 

Team Two ran, piling up into two small rowboats. Kadir and Noah turned back, opening small sprays of gunfire towards the top of the church, though they all knew how pointless it was. 

“Where's Kristian?" Jaro asked, and then he saw the marten already bundled into one of the rowboats.

“Half our gear's not even packed!" Frankie protested. 

“Leave it!" Jaro said, shoving her. “Just leave it!" 

They all bundled over, throwing themselves into the boat as Kadir and Noah began to retreat back. The church doors burst outwards as Ashani came flying out, sword in paw, a deep growl low in her throat. 

Noah bolted, and Kadir dropped a small package on the ground as he too turned and ran. Isla and Frankie slit the moorings holding the boats in place as they came, and Kadir squeezed the trigger on a remote in his paw. 

As Ashani stepped past the package he'd dropped, it exploded in a great ball of fire, knocking her off-kilter as her blade was sent flying, a pained grunt sounding through her helm as she stood from the dirt.

Less than a second later she was upright again, sword already in claw as Kadir leapt from the edge of the river, flying over the water before slamming into the boat with two feet, rocking it haphazardly in place as the gang furiously began to row away. 

“We made it, holy shit, we actually made it," Kristian gasped, panting for breath. 

Jaro closed his eyes, wondering if he was going to be sick.

“Fuck you!" Frankie screamed back, giving Ashani the middle finger as they slowly bobbed away. “You fucking vampire cunt!"

The vampire only stood, sword buried in the soil, and pointed as she watched them go, the remains of Cujac burning at her back.