Die for Me

“Now this is getting fun!” Lucien said with a glimmer in his eye. “You’re even spunkier than your sister. I’d never have guessed. It would be a shame to kill you before I find out exactly how spunky you can get. You might just have to accompany me, and Vincent’s head, of course, back to my home so we can have a little fun.”

I tried to heft the sword back up, but faltered. My arms weren’t working right. I had used all my energy on that one blow, and my muscles felt like rubber bands.

“This will all be over in just a second. If you move an inch, I’ll put this sword through your pretty head,” he warned, and then turned and began shifting Vincent’s body around. Georgia began moaning from the other side of the room. Her eyes were half-open now, but she still lay motionless on the ground.

I fought against a wave of desperation and suddenly I realized I didn’t care if he killed me. I would fight him even if it meant my own death, even if it didn’t make one bit of difference in the end. Because it would be better to die fighting than to survive this nightmare and live a long, regretful life with only the memory of Vincent to hold on to. Calling on every last ounce of my strength, I lifted my sword.

All of a sudden I heard the crackling, static words: I’m back. My eyes widened as I looked around the room and reassured myself that the voice was coming from inside me. “Vincent,” I whispered.

Quickly, Kate. Will you let me come in?

“Come in?” I puzzled frantically for a split second and then, realizing what he was asking, said, “Yes.”

All of a sudden, my body was no longer my own. It felt like a door had opened in the back of my head, and a powerful surge of energy poured through it and ricocheted through me, filling me until I felt I was going to burst.

Although I was still aware, my limbs began to move without me willing them to, and I lifted the massive sword with ease, swinging it high with both hands in an elliptical curve. It remained poised there for a second, motionless in midair, until I brought it down with a powerful sweep, slicing cleanly into Lucien’s left arm.

He roared with anger and dropped his sword, cupping the wound with his hand. Spi

I leaped aside, catlike, pulling the sword up into a vertical position, and crouched for a second before ru

He stood for a second staring at me, uncomprehendingly, as blood gushed out of the wound in his side. Then with a staggering gait he charged at me, but wavered at the last second, thrown off balance as he tripped over Vincent’s body.

I skipped to my right, away from him, and then, lunging again, took another swing at his head, missing as he ducked to avoid it. He leaped aside from his crouched position, squinting as he looked at me, and then all of a sudden his eyes widened in surprise. “Vincent. Are you in there?” he asked incredulously.

I felt myself laugh, and Vincent’s words came out of my mouth, in my own voice. “Lucien. My old foe.”

“No,” Lucien said, shaking his head and holding the sword up defensively with his good arm. “It’s not possible. You’re at the Catacombs.”

“Looks like you’re wrong there,” Vincent said through me. “You never were the brightest zombie in the graveyard.”

Lucien roared and charged at me, but I leaped nimbly to one side as he stumbled to stop himself from ramming into the bed.

“So what exactly were you trying to accomplish here?” my voice said smoothly. “Were you going to take my head back to Jean-Baptiste and then set to work slaying the rest of my kin?”

“I’m just finishing some old business,” hissed Lucien. “I couldn’t care less about your kinsmen, although now that you mention it, it might be fun to hold a little revenant barbecue once I kill Kate and bring your head back to use as kindling.”

“It’s the ‘kill Kate’ part that I think you might find difficult,” I heard myself say, as I ran at him, feeling a strength coursing through my body that was several times my own. Lucien held up his sword to meet me, but I arrived faster than he could react.

“This is for all the i

His sword went clattering to the floor, and he howled, lurching toward the fire. Blood dripped into the fire as he leaned over it, falling to his knees to grab the dagger he had set next to the fireplace. Then, with incredible speed, he jumped to his feet and threw the knife at my head. I jumped out of the way, but not quickly enough, and the blade sliced cleanly into my right shoulder.

I didn’t scream. I didn’t have time to. Transferring the sword to my right hand, I took my left and pulled the knife out of my shoulder. Then, without hesitating, I threw it back at him with superhuman force, knocking him back a step as the blade lodged deeply through his left eye into his brain. “And that’s for all my kindred you destroyed,” I heard myself say. Lucien’s remaining eye rolled upward, and with mouth hanging open, he stumbled toward me, as if in slow motion.

I turned and leaped onto the coffee table. Holding the sword in both hands, I swung it high into the air and brought it down toward his neck with a powerful horizontal sweep. I felt the blade slice cleanly through, sending his head flying off in a bloody arc.

The headless body held its position for a couple of seconds before collapsing to the floor in a heap. “Burn in hell,” Vincent said as I picked up the head by its hair and strode with it to the fireplace.

Just then the door flew open, and Ambrose burst through, yelling like a madman and swinging a battle-ax in one hand. His other arm was torn by a mean gash, and his shredded clothes were stained crimson. A rivulet of blood ran down his face from a scalp wound.

His crazed eyes fixed on Lucien’s decapitated body and then swung toward Vincent’s body, lying in a heap next to the fireplace. He looked at me, standing a few feet away, holding an enormous sword effortlessly in one hand and Lucien’s head in the other. He nodded silently, and I nodded back. Turning to the roaring fire, I tossed the grotesque head into the flames.

“The body,” I said, and grabbing Lucien’s corpse by the arms and legs, Ambrose and I carried it to the fire, swinging it slightly backward before heaving it on top of the burning logs.

“Vincent, that you in there?” Ambrose said, stepping away and looking at me. My head nodded. “Well, it better be, because if that’s you alone, Katie-Lou, I am officially afraid.” I smiled at him, and he shook his head in disbelief.

“Come out of there, Vin, you’re freaking me out,” he said.

Ready? Vincent asked me.

“Yes,” I replied, and immediately felt the whoosh of energy leaving through the back of my head. My body felt like a balloon deflating, and Ambrose stepped forward to catch me as I fell. He set me carefully on the ground.

Kate! Are you okay? came Vincent’s words immediately.

I nodded. “I’m fine.”

Your mind. No confusion? Panic?

“Vincent, I’m no different from before, except I don’t think I’ll be able to budge for a week, I’m so exhausted.”

Amazing.

“Gaspard’s body’s outside,” I said, turning to Ambrose.

“We saw. Jean-Baptiste’s got him. He’ll be okay.”

“What about everyone else?” I asked, staring at the blood on his shirt.

He nodded. “We all made it back.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. “And Charles?”

“We got his body,” Ambrose responded, and then, gesturing toward the bed, asked, “What’s your sister doing here?”