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Chapter. 35

It’s first light. I didn’t sleep, and I can’t remember when I stopped crying.

The murderer is back, with his ginger-haired friend.

He kneels to my level. “Behave,” he growls.

I spit at his face.

He grabs my hair and jerks my head forward, making my scalp burn. A gag is forced between my lips and wrapped around my head, pulling my cheeks back as it’s tightened.

He unties my middle and loosens the rope around my wrists. I don’t move, refusing to look him in the eye. I’m done cooperating.

He pulls my hands forward and binds them again, leaving a short length of rope so he can lead me and presumably keep my hands away from the gag.

The tension from the rope raises my bound arms and draws me to my feet.

I dig my heels into the ground and lean my body weight against him, providing as much resistance as possible. He yanks the rope, jerking me forward and almost toppling me over. I hate how easily he can overpower me.

I glare at their backs as they lead me deeper into the forest, away from the city.

A group of vampires are marching towards the gates. They stick in tight formation, using their huge shields to protect them from every angle. The human archers on the wall open fire. A couple lucky arrows get through, but the vampires just pull them out. They push forward, dragging a barrel on a rope behind them.

Rahlan and Ohan pull me further back behind the tree line before turning to circle the city.

I catch another glimpse of the vampires before the wall blocks my view. They reach the gates, and the human soldiers drop large rocks and steaming water from the walls. One hits a vampire directly on the head, and I shiver as he falls to the ground. His arms and legs are riddled with arrows. This is it – a warzone.

The three of us continue around the east side of the city, edging closer to the wall with the tree line. An archer up there would make short work of us – well at least of me, and that thought keeps my shoulders tense.

Rahlan passes my rope to Ohan. Ohan’s hands clasp together, giving Rahlan a boost as he begins climbing a large tree. His maroon black cape flutters beneath him with every stride upward. The trees trunk stretches high into the sky, sprouting thick branches that nearly overhang the city wall.

I look up at Ohan, and he meets my gaze with an apologetic expression. He could just let me go. I raise my bound wrists to him, willing him to release me. My gag would turn any words into a humiliating mumble.

He shakes his head.

Rahlan positions himself high in the tree, still hidden behind the pine needles. A human stands guard on the wall with his back to us. His eyes are on the gate on the opposite side of the city. Rahlan nudges closer, not making a sound.

I need to alert the man before Rahlan takes his life. I take in a breath but hesitate before making a sound. What if the man whips around and sees me first? I’m beside a vampire, dressed in vampire leather armor. Those arrows in his quiver could end up embedded in me, like the vampires at the gate.

Rahlan moves into striking position. He’s going to kill the man if I don’t do something now.

I scream into the gag. A hand immediately slaps over my mouth, turning my scream into a squeak.

I look up at Ohan the best I can under his grip. He shakes his head again, and the guard remains oblivious to our presence.

A black plume of smoke rises into the sky. Something’s burning at the city entrance. Human soldiers rush across the wall towards the gate, passing right over us, but the single guard remains at his post. I stare at the back of his head wishing I could compel him to follow them.

Rahlan springs from the tree and lands on the wall. Ohan charges forward and the rope forces me to follow.

We reach the wall free of arrows. There’s a shout, but it quickly becomes muffled. Something crashes to the ground just two feet away from me, and I nearly jump out of my skin. It’s the guard in chainmail armor, dead from the fall. Another one of Rahlan’s victims. It feels like I’m surrounded by death every day.

A rope is tossed over the side. Ohan secures it to the loop holding my wrists together. My eyes widen to the size of saucers at the thought of suffering the same fate as the guard.

“Don’t worry.” He pats my shoulder. “’Tis a good knot.”

I hope so.

He tugs on the rope, and it’s pulled upward, first raising my arms then my whole body off the ground. I groan from the stress on my shoulders. Ohan retreats back into the forest, and I’m hoisted up and onto the wall.

Rahlan begins untying Ohan’s knot, but my wrists are left bound together. I glance at the sword on his belt.

We’re on top of the high stone wall, and the walkway is barely wide enough for two people to pass each other. My gaze is drawn to the city and the myriad of thatch roofs. There are so many homes here. It’s beautiful.

Rahlan jumps over me. Two swords clash from behind. A soldier has his blade locked with Rahlan’s, and another soldier rushes towards me from the other side. I jump upright and shout to alert Rahlan, but it’s muffled by the gag. There’s nowhere to go. I’m trapped with a thirty-foot fall on either side of me. The soldier’s sword comes flying down towards my head. I duck and use my arms as a shield.

The blade slices through my sleeve and cuts into my arm. I let out a wail in horror, but there’s no immediate pain. Rahlan whips around and stabs the man in the shoulder through a gap in his chain mail mesh. The man screams, and Rahlan kicks him back, causing him to lose his balance and fall backwards off the wall.

Both soldiers are dead, leaving just Rahlan and myself.

The second it feels like I can breathe again, a sharp pain shoots up my arm and into my chest. I’m bleeding.

Rahlan grabs my arm and inspects the wound.

“You’ll live,” he says.

He attaches the loop connecting my wrist together to his belt and hurries across the wall. My hands are yanked forward behind him, and the sudden tension over the wound brings an intense pain. I scream.

He stops, turning back to him. My legs buckle, and I wail into the gag. My arm is dripping blood.

He unties my rope from his belt, finally realizing his mistake.

“Follow,” he orders.

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