Queen of Myth and Monsters (Adrian X Isolde, #2)(9)

These creatures were aufhockers, drawn to life and driven to end it. When Nadia could no longer scare me with stories of witches, she had used aufhockers to try and keep me from sneaking out of the walls of High City at night.

“You know they look for girls like you,” she would say. “Troublemakers who disobey the rules, and when you are alone in the woods, they will hop upon your back and tear your throat!”

“How can they tear out my throat when they are on my back?” I’d asked.

“Do not ask questions, insolent child!” she would say, and though we laughed, I knew there was truth to some of what she said. Aufhockers would rip out your throat, but they did not care if you were trouble or not—anyone with blood was prey.

Adrian would have never left me if he had thought they were going to attack. He had likely believed as I had—that monsters did not venture within the bounds of Revekka—and though I knew differently now, I certainly never expected a pack of twelve or more hounds to approach a city during the day. Not even the fires raging at the gates had kept them at bay.

“What is this madness?” Killian whispered.

It was more than madness. It was chaos, and it would soon be complete carnage if we did not help.

“You will stay here,” Killian said, drawing his blade.

I glared. “How many times, Killian—”

“I can’t lose you,” he said, cutting me off. I stared at him, not so much surprised by his words but the sincerity of them—the desperation of them. His eyes were hard, his jaw tight as he spoke. “I won’t.”

He took a step away.

“Stay,” he said again. “Please.”

Then he turned and charged through the gates.

I did not watch him go because I had no intention of listening to his plea, but I could not join the fight without my weapons. As I turned, I looked upon those who had assembled here, high on the hill, with no intention of helping those at our feet.

“Prepare the great hall to receive the wounded,” I said. “Those of you who can fight will take up arms and follow me. Someone get me a horse.”

I cut through the crowd once more and entered the castle, hurrying upstairs. Bursting into my room, I raced to my nightstand where I kept my knives. Usually, I would sheath them in braces around my wrists, but I hoped to use them more like darts in an effort to keep as much distance between myself and the rabid hellhounds as possible.

I found my sword in the chest at the end of my bed and belted it around my waist. Once I was finished, I removed my mother’s crown and my cloak, which would only get in the way.

Taking one of my knives, I quickly cut away at my long skirt until it fell just above my boots, then sheathed my knives—one at my waist and one between my breasts.

I rushed downstairs and found Tanaka waiting, barring the way, his expression severe.

“You cannot go into battle, my queen,” said Tanaka.

I tilted my head, eyes narrowed and full of anger. When would my wishes stop being met with Adrian’s will?

“I did not become queen to watch my people die from the safety of a tower.”

“King Adrian—”

“Is not here, so I will lead my people in battle. You may stay here in the comfort of my castle.”

I moved past the old man.

“You defy his orders,” Tanaka said, continuing to speak even as I retreated. “And yet it is not you who will pay the price.”

I ignored him.

I did not care that Adrian had left orders.

The consequences of disobeying his wishes would never weigh on my conscience as heavily as the deaths of our people.

As I left the castle, I found Violeta standing with a large steed. The horse, Reverie, was white and black-spotted, and her mane almost looked silvery, even beneath this strange, red-tinged light. As I mounted her, I met Violeta’s gaze.

“Find Ana. If she is not already aware, she must be prepared to help the wounded. Do whatever she says.”

With that, I left, spurring Reverie down the steep hill on which the Red Palace stood and into the city below. I did not look to see who followed, worried I was already too late. Even from here, I could see blood staining the thin layer of snow that had gathered on the ground and pooled beside lifeless bodies. All the while, the hounds continued their vicious attack against mortals and vampires.

As I spurred my horse on, something flew past me, narrowly missing my head. I ducked, thinking it had been an arrow, but watched instead as Gavriel shifted midflight from the form of a crow, knocking into one of the aufhockers and piercing it with his blade. The creature gave a cry but was soon silenced by a blow to the neck that severed its head.

More hounds descended on Gavriel while a few turned toward me, as if drawn by the sound of hooves.

I drew my blade, preparing to clash with the creatures, but as we came nearer, my horse reared up, snorting and throwing back her head. She turned sharply, and I tumbled to the ground as she sped off. A few hounds raced after her while two others faced me. I rose to my feet and gripped my blade. I felt so small opposite them, their demonic eyes glowing red, their sharpened teeth dripping with blood that pooled at their feet.

The hounds didn’t stop to assess if I was a threat; they just charged. I knew I could not take on both at once, so I focused on the one to the right, moving so I was in its direct line of attack. As it neared, I swung my blade down on its muzzle, creating a deep cut, but it did little to stop the hound as it bit down on the sword and wrested it from my grasp, jerking me forward.