“Let’s hope she never aims that thing at you,” Gideon muttered.
“She already has,” Braith admitted.
Gideon’s eyes widened and then he burst into laughter. “Ah, it is amazing what life throws your way, is it not?”
Braith pondered the truth of those words. Life had been so different just a few months ago, he had been blind, alone and content to simply go through the motions of what he now realized was an empty life. Then he’d seen her standing on that stage, filthy and proud, and forcing him to see in more ways than one. “It is.”
Braith took in the destruction littering the street, the mess of bodies surrounding them. Not all were those of the strange creatures, nor were they all human, some vampires had fallen here too.
He turned bracing himself as he looked up at Aria. Her bow was at her side, she had tucked the long ends of her hair into the collar of her dress. The hem of her dress was still tucked within her belt, revealing her legs to her knees. She looked wild, almost savage, but beneath it all he sensed her sadness as she stared at the carnage of the streets.
His remaining annoyance with her faded as her eyes met his. He had said once that he would not chase her into the trees she moved through with the ease of a monkey, he had assumed that would extend to rooftops as well, he’d been wrong.
He grabbed hold of a ladder, pulling it down with a clatter of metal. She was standing at the edge of the roof when he arrived at the top. He clutched her against him as he sought to ease her sorrow.
***
“Is she sleeping?”
“Finally,” Braith answered in response to William’s question.
William nodded slowly as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair. “She’s been through so much that I sometimes forget she’s not as tough as she acts.” His eyes were so similar to his sisters, but they were also harsher. “She’s always hated to kill things, she’d do it, but she hated it. I should have been there.”
Braith bit back on the retort that William was right, he should have been there. Hell he could smell the alcohol, and the woman on him, but this hadn’t been William’s fault. None of them had expected the events of this night.
“How often does this happen?” Braith inquired as he accepted a glass of whiskey from Gideon.
Gideon shook his head, he was still bruised and bleeding from his split lip, but he was healing quickly and the marks would fade within the hour. “It used to happen once every couple of years, but this is the third raid in the past eight months.”
“What caused such an increase?” William asked.
Gideon was thoughtful. “In the beginning there weren’t many of them, but over time more have been banished. They’ve grouped together, they’re angry, and they’re taking that anger out on the one’s that put them in this situation. The other factions are experiencing the same problems with The Forsaken Ones.”
“How many are out there?” Braith asked.
“I don’t know for sure, like I said there are other towns that work under the same rules. We’ve banished six out of here over the years. Some towns are rigid in their rules, others are less strict, but after the ones destroyed tonight I would guess that there are approximately twenty five to thirty of those creatures left.”
“Why didn’t you just kill them?” Ashby inquired.
“No one here wanted the king’s rules, at all. We thought we would give them a fair shot at survival.”
Ashby quirked an eyebrow, he downed his drink in one long swallow. “I’d rather be dead.”
“If it hadn’t been for Melinda that very well could have been you,” Braith reminded him.
“And as I said, I would rather have been dead. Those things are a monstrosity Braith. They are a shell of what they used to be.” Ashby shuddered. “I would have much preferred to be put out of my misery.”
“It’s too late to change the punishment that has been handed to them and perhaps the time has come to take care of them. If we are successful in the endeavor of war, they will not be necessary as a security measure anymore, and perhaps death would be kinder. I can get you support Braith. There are four other aristocrats that survived and have their own villages, and the fifth village is solely human.”
“Who are the four survivors?”
“Xavier, Saul, Calista, and Barnaby.”
“Barnaby,” Ashby groaned. “I hate that self pretentious ass.”
“As do we all,” Gideon agreed. “And though I wish it had, a hundred years hasn’t changed him much. He is somewhat more humbled by his circumstances, but you wouldn’t really know it to talk to him. He does well with his village though, and I haven’t heard anything bad about him although I’ve tried to stay away from him as much as possible.”
“Who wouldn’t?” Braith muttered as he downed the remains of his whiskey. William stood silently by, frowning as he tried to follow the conversation. “Barnaby was a jerk, he’s always been a jerk, and I doubt there’s much that could change him. He didn’t even choose a side to fight for, but stood idly on the sidelines to see who would win the war before he chose. My father was not oblivious to this fact and evicted him from the palace as soon as the war was over. I don’t see him being much help now Gideon.”
“He has followers that are not as cowardly as he is, and you know as well as I that this is not the life of luxury that Barnaby covets. We are not without here, but it is far less than he once had. He won’t stand on the sidelines this time Braith.”