Page 12 of Marked Resistance
Ilanis pushed me with both of her hands so hard, I almost fell to the ground. I kept my balance, but definitely moved back more than a few feet from the strength of her shove.
I shook my head. “Don’t do that.”
For the first time, Ilanis bared her fangs. “Or what?”
She’s enjoying this.
“How old are you?” I asked. “Whatever it is, aren’t you past juvenile bullying tactics?”
“I’m not bullying you,” Ilanis corrected. “I’m about to kill you, so I was giving you space. Doesn’t your Wildfire ability rely on you needing distance to shoot your flame?”
My eyes narrowed.
“Oh, what? You didn’t think I knew about your ability. First lesson, Youngling, know the mission. Always read the details. I read your file. I know what you can do. Now, I want to see it for myself.”
“You don’t want that.”
“Oh, but I do. Ireallydo. Now, fight on your feet, or die where you stand.”
Chapter Six
The intensity of the training here at Dobgar prepared me for the real world. A virus caused vampirism. Everyone knew it since the world remained unchanged for the last five hundred years or so. Well, unchanged for those infected by the virus. Humans lived with the fallout of the war and treated as nothing more than cattle, while those of us infected received the benefits.
Speed, strength, and agility were all enhanced by the virus, but another thing known throughout the world was the virus mutations granted extra abilities. The training I received in Dobgar taught me to understand the true danger of the world. Vampires were elite killing machines, hence the reason why being turned into one garnered the phrase “joining the elite.” But the extra abilities made it so much worse. In battle, there would be only a fraction of a second to determine the strengths and weaknesses of my opponent. Failure in assessing the situation would ensure death.
Ilanis called me a “youngling,” so age and experience belonged to her. Youngling was a term reserved for new vampires under the age of fifty. She referred tomeas a youngling, so she was the elder. She knew of my Wildfire ability, so there existed a huge knowledge gap between us. She’d prepared for this since the moment I walked through the door, and I was unaware. I had no idea what ability she possessed if any. She had the advantage of anonymity. The only thing I could lean into would be younglings were faster than older vampires. Speed versus knowledge. I had to be quick on my feet to survive.
Maybe there’s still a way out.
“I don’t want to fight you,” I explained as I backed away. She’d given me space to use Wildfire, but it would be my last resort.
“Too bad,” she seethed and drew her sword. “You might have made me break a sweat.”
“I’m serious. We’re both Shaye, yousawmy mark. We’re losing clan members left and right in the war, and then we have to end our own if they desert. Our numbers are growing thin as it is. We shouldn’t add to the problem by doing this.”
Ilanis advanced towards me, the tip of her sword dragging menacingly in the dirt beside her as she moved. “Or maybe, yourmarkwas forged and I’m fixing the problem by eliminating an assassin sent here to send Duradel to his final death.”
“I’m not a spy! If I was, would you have been able to figure it out so easily?”
“I never said you were a very good spy. Even morons can be dangerous given the proper circumstances.”
“And what about Duradel? He’s much too strong and too paranoid to be assassinated by someone like me.”
“Someone like you?” She chuckled. “Someone who happened to show up to the very capital where he’d be, much later than you were supposed to? Perhaps you ambushed the real Zenobia on the way here and assumed her identity?”
“You’re as paranoid as he is.”
“And that’s why I’m alive. And you’re dead.”
Ilanis lunged at me with an upward strike. I drew Assurance from its sheath and parried in time to deflect her blow, but the strength of her strike knocked my hands wide and exposed my chest. She brought her sword back in a downward strike designed to end my life. I leaned back enough to avoid a killing blow, but her blade tore through my clothing and sliced my skin deep. I dropped to my knees, and she stepped forward and aimed the tip of her blade, impaling it through my chest.
“Useless,” she spat.
Blood seeped from my wound and sweat dripped down my forehead. It was a dull pain, numbed by the adrenaline pumping through my veins.
“Dammit, Ilanis,” I heard a voice say. It was familiar, but I couldn’t quite place its owner. “I need a human over here! She needs to feed.”
I looked down and stared at the hilt of her sword as it protruded from my chest. My heart raced and drove more blood through the opening beneath and around the remaining exposed metal of the blade. My eyes clamped shut as my body shook.