Chapter 27 Protective Fury
Kaelen's POV
The vampire with Lyra's research is fast.
But I'm faster.
I leave Lyra and Stella with my grandmother and chase through the forest. My burns from yesterday still ache, but rage pushes me past the pain. That notebook contains information that could get dozens of innocent people killed.
I won't let that happen.
Through the trees ahead, I catch glimpses of him—young vampire, barely fifty years old, moving with the reckless confidence of someone who thinks they've already won.
He doesn't know I'm hunting him.
I close the distance. Twenty feet. Ten. Five.
He turns at the last second, surprise flashing across his face. "Lord Nightshade—"
I don't let him finish. My hand wraps around his throat, slamming him into a tree hard enough to crack the trunk.
"The notebook," I say quietly. "Give it to me."
"The cause is bigger than you—" he gasps.
"The cause is genocide." I tighten my grip. "Last chance. The notebook. Now."
Through the bond, I feel Lyra's anxiety. She's worried about me. Worried I'll kill him and lose part of my humanity in the process.
She's not wrong to worry.
"You've gone soft," the young vampire spits. "Marking a human. Caring about their cattle lives. Thaddeus was right about you—you're a traitor to our species."
"Maybe." I feel my fangs extend. "But I'm alive. Thaddeus is in chains. And you're about to tell me who else is part of his network."
"Never—"
I snap his wrist. The notebook falls. I catch it before it hits the ground.
"Names," I demand. "How many other supremacists? Where are they hiding?"
"Kill me," he says. "It doesn't matter. The movement is bigger than one vampire. Bigger than Thaddeus. We've been preparing for years—"
"For what?"
His smile is terrible. "You'll find out. Christmas night. When the real attack begins."
Ice floods through me. "What attack?"
"You stopped one ritual. Congratulations." He laughs, blood on his teeth. "But Thaddeus planned for failure. There's a backup. A second spell that doesn't require the hybrid's death." His eyes gleam with fanaticism. "It just requires her blood. And we already have it."
Horror crashes through the bond. Lyra feels my shock from miles away.
"What do you mean you have it?" I shake him.
"The assassin. Last night. He didn't just try to kill the girl—he collected blood samples." The young vampire's smile widens. "Fresh hybrid blood. Enough to power the spell without needing Lyra alive."
"Where? Where is the ritual happening?"
"Everywhere." His laugh turns into a cough. "Fifty locations across the city. All performing the same spell simultaneously. You can't stop them all."
Through the bond, Lyra's voice cuts through: Kaelen, what's happening?
They have your blood. They're using it for another ritual. Tonight.
Her terror spikes. How do we stop it?
Before I can answer, the young vampire's body begins to convulse. Foam appears on his lips.
"No—" I realize too late what's happening. "Poison. You took poison."
"Better dead than captured." His voice is fading. "The cause... lives on..."
He goes limp. Dead before he can give me more information.
I drop him and run back to Lyra, the notebook clutched tight.
She meets me halfway, Stella and my grandmother behind her. "What did he say?"
"They have your blood. They're planning simultaneous rituals at fifty locations tonight. The same spell Thaddeus tried—making vampires immune to all human weapons." I hand her the notebook. "And this is badly burned. Half the names are illegible."
Lyra flips through pages, her face going pale. "I can make out maybe fifteen names. The rest are ash."
"Fifteen families we can warn," my grandmother says. "The rest..."
"Will be sitting targets." Lyra's voice breaks. "Because I wrote down their information."
"This isn't your fault—" I start.
"Yes it is!" She throws the notebook down. "I should have memorized the names. Kept them secret. Not documented everything like some academic project—"
"You were trying to help them—"
"And instead I painted targets on their backs!" Tears stream down her face. Through the bond, her guilt is overwhelming. "My mother died protecting moonblood carriers. I'm getting them killed."
I pull her close. "Your mother would be proud of what you've done. What you're still trying to do."
"Would she?" Lyra's voice is small. "I've made peace with vampires. Joined the Council. Become the bridge she died trying to protect. But what's the point if everyone like us still dies?"
"They won't die. We'll stop the rituals—"
"How?" She pulls back. "Fifty locations. We don't know where they are. We have maybe twelve hours before midnight. And we have fifteen readable names in a list that probably had fifty."
The hopelessness in her voice cuts deeper than any blade.
"Then we split up," my grandmother says. "I'll take the Council vampires and search for ritual sites. You warn the families we can read. Every person we save is a victory."
"And the ones we can't save?" Stella asks quietly.
No one answers.
We divide the readable names. My grandmother takes half, Lyra and I take the other half. We'll move fast, warn everyone we can, hope it's enough.
But as we're about to separate, Lyra's phone rings.
She answers. Her face goes white.
"What?" I demand. "What is it?"
She lowers the phone slowly. "That was Vivienne. My ex-friend. She says..." Lyra's voice shakes. "She says she has information about the ritual sites. She wants to trade."
"Trade for what?"
"For her life." Lyra meets my eyes. "She says Lord Corbin—her vampire fiancé—is part of the supremacist network. When she found out, she stole his ritual map. All fifty locations marked." Her jaw clenches. "But Corbin knows she betrayed him. He's hunting her now. She'll give us the map if we protect her."
Through the bond, I feel Lyra's conflict. Vivienne betrayed her multiple times. Sided with enemies. Made Lyra's life hell.
But she also has information that could save dozens of lives.
"It could be a trap," I say.
"I know." Lyra's voice is steady despite the fear in the bond. "But we need that map."
"Where does she want to meet?"
"The blood bank. The one where I used to donate." Lyra's smile is bitter. "She says it's poetic. The place where everything started."
I don't like it. Every instinct screams trap.
But we're out of options and time.
"We'll go together," I say. "If it's a trap, we face it together."
Through the bond, gratitude and love flow from her. "Together."
We arrive at the blood bank as afternoon fades to evening. The building looks abandoned—windows dark, door hanging open.
"She's inside," Lyra says, sensing through her hybrid abilities. "One heartbeat. Human. Terrified."
We enter carefully. The reception area is destroyed—furniture overturned, blood on the walls. Recent violence.
Vivienne huddles in the corner, clutching a rolled paper. She looks terrible—designer clothes torn, perfect hair matted with blood, one eye swollen shut.
"Lyra," she gasps with relief. "Thank god. I thought—I thought Corbin found me first—"
"Where's the map?" Lyra's voice is cold.
"Here." Vivienne holds out the paper with shaking hands. "All fifty locations. Times. Participants. Everything."
Lyra takes it. Unrolls it. Her eyes widen.
"This is real," she breathes. "Detailed. Verified."
"I told you—" Vivienne starts.
"Why?" Lyra interrupts. "Why betray Corbin? Why help us?"
"Because I was wrong." Tears stream down Vivienne's face. "About everything. About you. About vampires. About what matters." She gestures to her injuries. "Corbin did this when I questioned the plan. Said humans who don't serve vampire supremacy deserve to die. Including me."
Through the bond, I feel Lyra's uncertainty. Vivienne could be telling the truth. Or this could be an elaborate manipulation.
"We'll protect you," Lyra says finally. "On one condition. You testify against Corbin and every other supremacist you know."
"I will. I swear—"
The window explodes inward.
Lord Corbin stands in the broken glass, flanked by ten vampires. His expression is murder.
"Hello, my dear," he says to Vivienne. "Did you really think you could steal from me and live?"
His gaze shifts to us. "And Lord Nightshade. The traitor prince. How convenient. I can eliminate you all at once."
He signals his vampires. They spread out, surrounding us.
"The map is fake," Corbin continues. "A trap. While you waste time here, the real rituals are beginning across the city. By the time you realize, it'll be too late."
Lyra looks at the map in her hands. "Then why did you bother chasing Vivienne—"
"Because she stole the real map too." His smile is cruel. "And I need to make sure no one else sees it."
He pulls out an identical rolled paper from his jacket.
Two maps. One real. One fake.
And we have no way to know which is which.