Made in Death's Image 02

Michael stepped forward, "I'll fucking kill you if you lay a hand on her."

"Enough," Ceil shouted like a battle cry, lunging forward, swinging her blade.

Zara let out a grunt, catching Ceil's wrist and flinging her back. She slammed into the wall and the vampire let out a mocking laugh. Michael moved forward, grabbing Zara by the arm and pulling her away from Ceil. Zara's anger snapped, everytime she was about to hit a killing blow on either Michael would save Ceil or vice versa. Grace's blood whore was starting to reall piss her off. She spun, grabbing him by the neck and pulling him off the ground. Michael's face turned red, her grasp choking the life from him. His fingers clawed at her grasp. The memory brought him back to Codrin and he started to panic.

"Michael!" Ceil cried, swinging the blade, cutting the back of Zara's leg.

Zara let out a grunt, throwing Michael through the window as she turned to face Ceil. Michael let out a cry, feeling as his body fell. His eyes shut, only he didn't fall to his death like he had assumed, but instead was plunged into a pool. His eyes popped open, stinging from the chlorine. He swam to the top, pulling his body out of the infinity pool.

"Damn," he spat out pool water, "How much fucking money?"

Before he could even begin to fathom why a penthouse would want a pool on the roof, he scrambled to push himself up on aching limbs, storming back inside where Ceil was grappling with Zara. Zara bit into Ceil's arm, making the hunter cry out in pain. Michael eyed his hunter friend's blade before diving across the room for it.

"Ceil!" Michael cried, throwing the blade.

******

Grace managed to recoup while on Pavel's shoulder. The chaos of the fighting and slaughter around her was adding to her disorientation. Then she realized what had happened last and kicked Pavel with her knee. Pavel dropped Grace and she tumbled to the ground before standing.

"You pathetic creep," Grace roared, getting up, "You truly think magic is as weak as that could subdue me? No, you truly thought foolishly that you could best me? Codrin's favored? I'm well over a century older than you and then some."

Pavel groaned,"I don't understand."

Grace rolled her eyes, "It is simple; age isn't the only strength we can attain. Some of us have even studied magic and made ourselves immune to these effects."

Of course, Pavel realized stupidly. A young warlock made a potion underestimating Grace's own blood and training. Grace picked up a knife carefully, before pointing it at Pavel's own jugular. She smirked, tilting her head.

"All this time," she whispered with a short laugh, "It was you attempting to screw me over. I was worried about nothing! I was hoping you'd made your peace but you are always scurrying around in the filth, obsessive. Never learning how to change." Grace could almost not contain her laughter.

His eyes widened, and without a second thought she lunged and drove a knife into him. Blood splattered and he gasped for air. His fingers patting desperately at his cloak. Grace smirked, letting go of the knife and backing up to watch Pavel turn into that pile of blood and flesh. But Grace heard the screams of everyone outside and the tunnel vision of violence left her. She fluttered her hair and moved towards the window, ready to go out and help the fleeing supernaturals.

Unfortunately, Pavel's hand had successfully slipped under his cloak to where a small vial was hidden. In his dying moment, he slammed the vial into his wound and hoped this magic was more effective than the latter. Within seconds of Grace walking across the room, pure power filled him. He sat up slowly, flexing his fingers. Shocked at how powerful he felt.

"Oh Grace," he laughed, "You should've just stayed down!"

She turned, in shock.

NINETEEN

Ceil caught the blade before bucking Zara off of her. Zara let out a cry, smashing into the wall. Her gaze turned to Michael, anger filling her. She snarled, her nails sharp and craving his blood. She gnashed her fangs towards him, grabbing Ceil by the hair and tossing her.

"I am so sick of you!" she then roared, charging Michael.

The vampire grabbed hold of him, as Michael attempted to shove her off. He was no match however, and was quickly overpowered. Zara mounted him, pinning his hands over his head and spat down to him.

"I will enjoy ripping you apart," she hissed.

"Winds! WINDS!!" Ceil cried.

Zara's eyes widened, and with a magical breeze through the broken window, Zara was pushed off of Michael. The blade slid across the room, and before he could debate his own actions, he grabbed the knife, plunging it right into Zara's heart. She paused, standing before sinking down to the ground, her eyes wide, and a tear dripping down her face.

"W-What?" she asked, her voice small.

Ceil grasped her wound, "It's over Zara."

"Z-Zaharina," the vampire whispered, "Why do you keep insisting o-on calling me that? I-I'm no longer human. Codrin took that name from me."

Ceil looked over at the vampire with pity, "It's over."

"I-I just wanted...more from... Pavel promised me-" Zara slurred, before her entire body froze and she turned to bloody fleshy mess on the ground, her remains spreading across the ground in a disgusting pool, leaving her clothing and her phone all wrapped into itself.

Michael flinched, looking at the ground, "I didn't think your blade could just- Ya know."

"My blade was a special gift from Lariah. Enchanted and plated with silver," Ceil whispered, "Thank fuck."

Michael picked up the phone carefully, "Zara said Pavel."

"Check the phone?" Ceil replied, pressing on her wound.

"You're injured," he said, concerned.

Ceil rolled her eyes, "I'm not the woman for you to worry about."

Michael nodded in understanding. He went to the disgusting pile and fished out the phone from what was Zara's close. He opened the phone and with anxiety, he found two contacts: Grace and Pavel. With shaking fingers, he pressed: call, then placed the phone on speaker. Grace went straight to voicemail which had his heart dropping. Very slowly, he pressed call again.

Pavel answered his phone with confidence. He sat on the broken throne with an unconscious Grace under his foot and his phone to his ear. In the room were two of his own men that were carefully wrapping the unconscious fallen vampire lord in silver chains. Pavel yawned lazily, answering the phone to whom he thought to be Zara.

"It is done," he grinned, "Grace is ready for export. Are the hunter's dead?"

"The only," Michael said slowly, seething, "entertainment you will find is me. I will hunt you down, and I will kill you for taking Grace."

Pavel titled his head, "Zara failed then. How disappointing."

"If you hurt her--" Michael began.

Pavel smirked, "You'll hunt me down? I dare you to hunter."

Then the phone went dead. Michael let out a cry of panic, the phone falling from his fingers. Ceil bit her lip slowly, her heart hurting for Michael. He roared into his palms, feeling like he had failed Grace yet again.

"Oh Michael," Ceil whispered, placing her hand on his shoulder, "We will find her."

He looked up at her weakly, "We?"

"There's not many of us left," she replied with a small smile, "But you have our help."

Michael nodded silently in thanks, his silent anger only brewing and as the sun began to rise, Pavel hummed a jolly tune. His men hauled the silver coffin which had been nailed shut, carefully onto their cargo ship with Grace inside. The bangs and noises frightened her and the chains seared her flesh. She was terrified. But all she could think was if Michael was safe.

The end...