Immortals After Dark 07 - Kiss of a Demon King

Omort was proving useless against the threats surrounding them. Without him at the helm, the army was rife with rumor and instability. Already covenants were breaking as smaller factions defected from the Pravus.
    This evening, with the coming dusk, Sabine and Lanthe would have to risk their lives in battle because
    he couldn't rise to the challenge. "Demon, you have to understand-Omort truly can't be killed.
    There's simply no way to defeat him."
    "What if there were?"
    "And still, you believe in Groot's sword." She gave him an indulgent expression. "It's a fable, Rydstrom. Even if it would work, and even if you were free, you'd never get close enough to Omort to use it."
    "It will work. Nix has vowed that it will. She is never wrong."
    "She must be . . ." Sabine trailed off when a yell sounded from outside. Soon the din of bridled horses and marching soldiers followed.
    Sunset. The vampires were attacking. "1 have to leave. I won't return for some time."
    "Why? Where are you going?"
    To try to shore up the cracks in my brother's sanity. And if unsuccessful. . . "To the battlefield."
    17
    O
    mort's still comatose?" Lanthe asked telepathically as she sidestepped a stray centaur arrow.
    Sabine swung her long sword at a vampire's neck- from behind-slicing clean through. "No, not comatose, just descending further into madness." She scooped her steel-toed boot under the vampire's severed head, punting it away. "Omort's glassy-eyed, sweating, demanding sacrifices."
    Just hours ago Sabine had gone to his tower again- and she loathed going there-to implore him to decimate the converging army. She'd found him sitting on his bed, petted by the still-healing Hettiah, screaming for another sacrifice. "Something young!"
    "We can't win this without him," Lanthe said. "Even if we can only be seen by our trail of headless bodies." Invisibility had its merits.
    "You're right."
    The revenants were decent enough fighters, but they were mindless. Though the Libitinae prowled from the
    night sky, and were cunning killers, they played with
    their victims.
    The centaurs had their poisoned arrows, but they were at a disadvantage with tracing vampires because they were such big targets-multiple vampires would launch themselves onto a centaur's back, then haul him to the ground, draining him all the while.
    Lothaire's vampires were cutting a swath, yet there were only so many of them. Sabine spied him far across the battlefield, engaging others of his kind, slaughtering with a wild grin on his face, the first time she'd ever seen him smile. His hair was braided on the sides of his face, berserker style, the thick strands dark with blood.
    Sabine tilted her head. He was as tall as the demon, but not as muscular. Why am I thinking about the demon
    now?
    With an inward shake, Sabine thrust her sword at an unwitting vampire. Once she'd felled him, she watched Lanthe gut a leech, yanking her sword up through his body.
    Lanthe was normally so pensive and thoughtful, but in combat she was vicious. A dozen times already, Sabine had wanted to call out, "That's my little sister!"
    "Sabine!" Lanthe suddenly cried. "Why are vampires looking at us?"
    Sabine peered around them. She and Lanthe were ... visible? She flicked her hand to cast another illusion, to
    no avail.
    Only one person could extinguish her power like this. "Hettiah." She'd made them visible.
    "Can you do a portal?" Sabine asked as she and Lanthe put their backs together, circling, swords raised as they searched for escape.
    "Already tried and got nothing," Lanthe answered. They were surrounded, vampires edging closer and closer.
    "I think we're dead."
    "I think you're right."

    They were now both powerless, two little Sorceri females in the middle of the vampire Horde.
    Sabine scanned the distance for Lothaire but didn't see him-
    One leech dove for her with his fangs bared, grazing her skin until he hit her breast plate. She was able to duck under him and fell him with a backhanded hit. But more were advancing.
    Hundreds more.
    Strangely, at a time like this, Sabine found herself wondering how the demon would feel about her death. Would he mourn his female?
    Lanthe whispered out loud, "Abie?"
    Sabine heard her, even over the clamor of the battle-hooves thundering, bowstrings singing, swords clashing.
    Closer . . . What to say to her sister? How to protect her?
    The end was coming . . . vampires rushing for-ward . . . almost reaching them . . . until the attackers became ... ash.
    Their