Chapter 339 Ava: Defend the Pack

Aurum's golden figure streaks through the wolves defending us, in an unerring line straight for the closest vampire.

Seconds later, there's a blood-curdling roar.

Stop standing around staring, Grimoire says, unaffected by the fear crawling through my skin. They need your help.

Tearing my eyes from Aurum/Lucas, I dash forward, my magic-crafted blade cool against my sweaty palm.

"What's next?" I ask, squeezing through a mass of fur and hot bodies. The noise is too loud to hear my own voice, but Grimoire picks up my words straight from my head.

Get closer. You'll hurt an innocent if you try to do anything here. You don't have the control yet.

Ducking under a wildly swinging arm, I come face to face with a stranger. Pale skin. Lips glistening red, cracking at the corners, where you can see pale flesh peeking out beneath the blood.

Fangs. Long fangs, far longer than I ever thought a vampire could have, and red eyes that lock onto mine with unerring accuracy.

Don't go straight for the head, Grimoire warns as I do just that.

My blade whistles through the air. It's a clumsy strike, born of fear and adrenaline rather than skill, and I'm too far in to abort.

A vice-like grip closes around my forearm. The vampire's strength is inhuman, and I'm yanked forward, losing my balance.

a twist of my body I'd never be able to replicate again, I manage to wrench my arm free of the vampire's grasp. Moving with the momentum, I throw myself into an awkward roll. My shoulder

but he's too slow, dragged in various directions. Everyone's grabbing, snapping,

hesitate. With both hands, I drive my blade into his back,

Grimoire's command rings clear in the

of power inside me, channeling heat through my arms and into the blade. The effect is instantaneous. The vampire's body stiffens, then begins to glow from within. He tears away from me with an unholy shriek that

tears through his flesh and bones, leaving me staggering

and pulse, shot through with flashes of crimson lightning. It's as if

can even think to run, the creature

voice cuts through my panic. I obey without thinking, feeling claws whistle past my ear. Get your hand on him. Any part of him. Channel

Grimoire's instructions to the letter. The vampire-thing lunges for me and I slam my hand against its face, feeling its fangs cut at my palm. A spurt of flame erupts from my skin, greedily reaching toward the

reels back with

infuse it with

left in my magic. It just does what

again, but I'm ready this time, filled with an otherworldly calm. Maybe it's Grimoire's presence inside my head. Maybe he's taken control of my body. It doesn't really feel like me, and yet it's my body that's moving, with

slash across its torso. The blade leaves a trail of frost in its wake, slowing the monster's

Now for his head.

arm moves with a will of its own, the blade singing through the air before Grimoire's words fully register. The strange vampire thing's head separates from its shoulders with a sickening squelch, its body

warping until it settles into a more recognizable shape—just another vampire, no longer the monstrous entity it

chest heaves, each breath ragged and harsh. Blood and acrid, flesh-burned smoke fills my nostrils, making me want to gag. But as I glance around, confusion replaces

battlefield

the floor. And yet no vampires remain

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