Chapter 145 Abyss Prison
"Nerissa," Klaus said, his voice a low, gravelly command that cut straight through the noise of the descending army. "Get behind me. Grip my belt. Do not let go, no matter what happens."
"I have a weapon," I argued, my numb fingers tightening around the silk-wrapped crystal shard.
"They are in full plate armor," Klaus replied, his sapphire eyes locking onto mine with absolute, terrifying intensity. "Your glass will shatter against their breastplates, and the impact will break your wrist. Stay behind me."
I didn't argue again. I stepped directly behind his massive, bare back. I grabbed the torn, soaked fabric of his dark trousers right at his hip, my knuckles pressing against his cold skin.
The first wave of Imperial guards poured around the curved stone corner of the corridor.
They hit the knee-deep water with a massive, splashing crash. There were ten of them in the vanguard, their heavy wooden halberds lowered, the jaundiced light from their torches catching the gleaming black steel of their armor. They saw Silas’s dead body floating in the cell, and they saw Klaus standing in the doorway, his silver hair wild and his fangs fully descended.
"Take him down!" the lead guard roared.
Klaus didn't wait for them to close the distance. He moved.
The displacement of air whipped my wet hair across my face. Klaus surged forward, dragging me with him. The freezing water didn't slow him down; he tore through it like a shark.
He hit the front line with devastating, bone-shattering force. He didn't use the short sword to parry the incoming halberds. He caught the thick wooden shaft of the first weapon with his bare left hand, twisting it violently to throw the guard off balance, and drove the steel blade of his sword directly into the narrow gap of the man's visor.
The guard dropped, his blood instantly turning the dark water around our calves a murky, rusted red.
Two more guards lunged, swinging their heavy blades in wide, sloppy arcs. Klaus ducked under the first swing, entirely ignoring the second blade as it sparked against the unhewn rock wall. He grabbed the second guard by the steel breastplate, lifting the fully armored vampire completely out of the water, and hurled him into the third guard. The sickening crunch of buckling armor and snapping ribs echoed over the ringing bell.
I clung to his hip, moving precisely when he moved, letting his massive frame shield me from the spraying blood and flying steel.
Through the blood-bond, I felt everything.
I felt the burning, tearing strain in his unhealed back muscles every time he swung his arm. I felt the hot, stinging graze of a spear tip cutting across his ribs. But beneath the physical pain, there was a vast, cold ocean of pure, predatory focus. The blood I had fed him was burning through his veins like liquid fire, fueling his immortal strength, but it was finite. He was burning his reserves at a catastrophic rate just to clear the hall.
We pushed out of the flooded corridor and reached the base of the spiral staircase.
The tactical reality of our situation was a nightmare. We were at the bottom of a narrow, steep stairwell. The guards had the high ground, and they were pouring down in an endless, armored stream.
"Up," Klaus grunted, his chest heaving as he stepped over a pile of groaning, bleeding men.
We hit the first stone step. The rock was slick with sea slime and the fresh blood dripping from Klaus's sword.
A guard leaped from three steps above us, bringing a heavy broadsword down in a brutal, two-handed overhead strike aimed directly at Klaus’s skull.
Klaus raised his short sword to block. The impact rang out, sending a shower of orange sparks into the freezing air. The sheer force of the downward blow forced Klaus to one knee, his bare skin slamming against the jagged rock.
A blinding flash of pain shot through my own knee. I gasped, stumbling backward, but my grip on his clothes held firm.
Klaus didn't buckle. He snarled, a feral, tearing sound, and used his free hand to punch upward, driving his fist directly into the guard's knee joint. The steel armor crumpled inward. The guard screamed, his leg snapping entirely backward, and tumbled past us into the black water below.
Klaus rose, his chest rising and falling in sharp, desperate jerks.
"Keep moving," he ordered, his voice fraying at the edges.
We climbed. Ten steps. Twenty steps.
The stairwell became a meat grinder. The narrow space prevented the guards from attacking us all at once, forcing them to come at Klaus two at a time. He was a machine forged in three centuries of warfare, a blur of silver hair and bloody steel. He parried, disarmed, and killed with a terrifying, mechanical efficiency.
But there were simply too many of them.
A spear thrust from the shadows above slipped past Klaus’s guard. The sharp steel blade sank deep into his right thigh.
The agony exploded in my own leg. I shrieked, my legs giving out completely. I hit the hard stone steps, dragging my weight against Klaus’s hip.
Klaus didn't even flinch. He grabbed the wooden shaft of the spear still embedded in his leg, yanked the guard forward, and drove his sword through the man’s throat. Then, without missing a beat, Klaus reached down, wrapped his left arm tightly around my waist, and hauled me off the ground.
He didn't set me back down. He carried me against his left side, holding me tight against his ribs, while he wielded the short sword in his right hand.
I can walk, I pushed frantically through the tether, my heart breaking at the sheer, agonizing strain I felt tearing through his muscles. Put me down, Klaus. You are too slow carrying me.
No, he answered. The thought was absolute iron, brooking no argument. I am not letting them touch you.
We reached the first major landing. The air here was slightly drier, the jaundiced torchlight burning steadier against the walls.
The landing was packed. Twenty elite Imperial guards stood in a tight, disciplined shield wall, completely blocking the path upward. Behind the heavy black steel shields, a second row of guards aimed loaded, heavy crossbows directly down at us.
Klaus stopped on the steps just below the landing.