Behind The Devil's Eye (Part 3)

Dense fog curled in long winding tendrils off the Thames, the black water lapping hungrily at the wooden supports of the dock. Three figures emerged from the hazy gloom, heavily cloaked and the glint of cold steel in heir hands. Walking swiftly over the planks, their feet made sound only a fellow immortal could perceive.
  “The boat is just down there,” Aeon said, hearing her words immediately dulled by the heaviness of the mist in the air. She motioned swiftly to the end of the jetty, the fog almost swallowing the small wooden boat bobbing there silently in the endless pull of the current. Celine and Damon stood on either side of her and moved out in front whilst she looked around, a sudden feeling of unease prickling her skin.
  A chill descended over them and all three vampires looked at each other simultaneously, warning looks passing between them. A breeze picked up and sent mist swirling around them, its slender fingers clawing up their legs. A silhouette suddenly appeared through the gloom and the fog parted revealing him. “He’s here,” Aeon whispered, panic seizing her insides.
  Damon’s eyes locked on him immediately, taking in his tall, solid frame and skin so impossibly white that it seemed to glow with an eerie iridescence. Most disturbing of all were his red eyes, burning so bright in the darkness that his gaunt face seemed alive with writhing shapes. The fog seemed not to conceal him but wrap itself around him in a protective cloak.
  Kriten’s gaze burned in to Aeon and she felt her cheeks flush with colour as if he were seeing right through her. She met his challenge angrily, her green eyes striking with defiance. The fog rolled back and he was gone. They all glanced around nervously at each other, moving inward to form a tight group, circling around, eyes wide. How could he have known?
  The sound of slicing broke the tense waiting, the fog breaking in to strips first left, then right and above them, each time they turned to react the fog imploding inwards to fill the space where Kriten had been just moments before. Curse this damn fog, thought Aeon viciously. Her heart thundered in her ears and she could hear the nervous heavy breathing of Damon and Celine beside her.
  Her fists clenched so tightly around her blades that her knuckles turned white, she shot a glance towards Damon and he turned to look at her, his dark eyes grim. A rush of air passed her left ear, catching her by surprise and she spun around, only to find the mist curling back in to place. A cold sweat broke out on her forehead.
  Suddenly there was a flash of movement and a strangled scream rent the air. Aeon whipped around, breath caught in her throat with dread. Celine was on her knees, clutching her shoulder where three deep gashes tore the skin and left her cloak in tatters, blood oozing steadily from the deep wounds. Her eyes were screwed up with pain and Aeon hurried towards her, meaning to help but the look of hate that Celine suddenly directed at her made her stop with confusion. But she had no time to think.
  Out of the gathering gloom she heard something flying towards her and spun round in a fluid motion, raising both long daggers across her face in time to block Kriten’s attack as his claws glanced off her weapons with a horrendous scrape.  Aeon heard a deep throated cackle and looked on in horror at the coven master who stood just in font of her.
  He smiled at her, thin lips curling in a sarcastic sneer. “And what would you three lonely travellers be doing out here at this hour?” he said with a voice that was cold and sharp, slicing straight through her mind. He made no move to approach but simply stood, blood red eyes boring in to Aeon. She knew she could not lie. Besides, she wanted answers.
  “Why did you kill him?” she spat, red curls sweeping back from her face.
“And here I was, thinking you knew the answer to that already,” Kriten replied, sneer widening, “Your friends are wiser than you know. All that they have told you is true but if you wish to here the words from my own lips. Yes, I used your brother to find a cure for, what shall we call it? Our aversion to sunlight.” He paused, eyes narrowing yet losing none of their fierce intensity as he kept her locked in place.
  “It is a shame that my little experiment did not work, but for a first attempt it was not bad. And do not fear, I will succeed eventually.” Aeon stared at him in disbelief.
“But why him? And why make him suffer like that? He lost his mind because the pain was so horrific!”
“He was as useful as the next vampire and why shouldn’t he suffer? We all suffer in our own way, every day of our lives, why should he be any different?”
Anger such as she had never felt before, took hold of her body, making her tremble with rage and she answered him vehemently, “Because he was my brother!”
  She leapt forward, daggers raised over her head in a striking pose. Aeon had managed to catch Kriten by surprise and he had only enough time to put his hands up in front of him before they met and her daggers sliced straight through his raised hands. He staggered slightly, face contorting with rage and her eyes widened as she saw him draw back his arms and then hurl her backwards.
  She flew through the air at alarming speed, hair billowing around her as she smacked hard in to one of the dock-side buildings, feeling all the air leave her lungs in a rush and leaving her lying there stunned. The coven master began advancing on her but through blurred eyes she saw Damon step out in front of him. He raised a long, curved sabre and the coven master glanced between them before drawing out his own blade; long with a cruel-looking serrated edge.
  Kriten swung at him, Damon blocking quickly, a shower of sparks and clash of metal on metal piercing the air. Damon twisted his blade up and forced Kriten to pull back before he quickly jabbed towards Damon's stomach. They continued ducking and weaving, their feet grazing swiftly over the weathered boards as they danced savagely around each other. To a mortal eye, there would have been only a blur of shadows and faint zing as blades sliced through he air.
  Finally, breathing heavily, Damon watched as his sabre was sent spinning up and away in to the air by a hard blow from Kriten and he reacted quickly ducking and then jumping up and backflipping with ease over Kriten’s head. Sending his leg shooting out and impacting hard in the small of Kriten’s back as Damon landed, he watched with triumph as Kriten’s head snapped backwards and he seemed to fall to the ground
  But Kriten quickly rolled over and sending his legs kicking outwards acted as if he meant to trip Damon. Just as Damon jumped to dodge the attack, he threw his body upwards and Kriten grabbed Damon’s arm in an iron fist, yanking him back down so that Damon’s knees smashed against the solid wood. Damon cried out in pain and raised his arms in defence just as Kriten’s fist collided with deadly accuracy between his eyes and he slumped forward unconscious, a bead of blood trickling down his forehead where the skin had been broken.
Aeon had risen just in time to see the coven master’s cloak sweep aside revealing Damon’s head lying against the decking right in front of his leather boots. Her throat seemed to close over and she couldn’t breathe. White rage slipped over her and, ignoring the pain in her chest, leapt forward in one fluid motion, fangs bared. She sailed directly towards the exposed neck of the coven master who still faced away from her. He turned at the last moment, parrying her blow in a defensive crouch and she landed sideways. Aeon snarled and stole a quick glance over his shoulder. Seeing Damon lying there, she hoped with all her heart that he was alive.
  Focusing her attention back on Kriten, she watched as he advanced, face horribly contorted and wildly swinging his sword in a widening ark. Blood from his wounded hands dripped down his arms and soaked his own sword. Come on them, I dare you, she thought ferociously. She kept tempting him forward, always staying slightly out of reach until he finally grew tired and lunged just as she had intended, allowing her to duck under his arms.
  Aeon landed a swift punch in his stomach, winding him and as he coughed she sprang upwards between his outstretched arms, gashing the undersides of both his arms. She flipped backwards in mid-air landing crouched with feline grace but as she stood, she felt a sharp stabbing pain in her leg and looking down, saw a tear in her leather trousers and deep wound in her leg. Kriten must have made it as she leapt upwards between his arms.
  Half turning, she stood, eyes alight with rage and chest heaving with exertion, blood slowly flowing down her right leg and red locks framing her face in a fiery halo. Aeon truly looked like a force to be reckoned with. She slunk forward, trying not to limp, smiling inwardly as she saw the grimace of pain on Kriten’s face as he raised his sword. With his arms weakened, she might have a chance.
  But then suddenly, the coven master ran at her, leaping into the air, cape billowing out behind him and she only had time to twist aside just as his sword sank in to her right shoulder rendering it useless. A scream erupted from her and Aeon’s face contorted with pain as she felt the warm oiliness of blood pouring down her arm and felt pain raging like fire through her shoulder.
  Feeling suddenly light-headed, Aeon could do nothing as Kriten moved to tower over her, malice glittering in his eyes as he reached down with his huge, blood soaked arms and lifted her by the throat, grimacing slightly. His hands closed tightly around her slender neck, huge hands threatening to snap her head clean off. Aeon’s eyes bulged in her head as they roved about, desperately searching for help.
  Aeon was dimly aware of Celine approaching them from the side, her wound looking almost healed and a look of surreal calm on her face. “Celine, help me”, she choked barely able to form the words. Celine seemed to ponder the question for a moment before an evil grin spread across her wide face,
“No, I don’t think I will.” Aeon stared in shock, suddenly aware that she could be going delirious from lack of oxygen. But as if reading her thoughts, Kriten laughed, low and evilly,
“How do you think I knew where to find you? Or what your so-called friends had told you?” His voice dripping with savage glee, he leaned forward so that his sour breath lighted on her skin making her want to heave.
  Kriten lessened the grip on her throat slightly, just long enough for her to gulp down some air in to her lungs. “It would seem your friend is jealous of you Aeon. Well, jealous that Damon seems to have feelings for you that go deeper than friendship and seeks to, well, get rid of the competition.” He smiled. Aeon just stared blankly, her expression glazing over with confusion. She just didn’t understand. If Celine felt so strongly about Damon then why hadn’t she said something? Because…because he loved her.
  The realisation struck her, just as she felt Kriten’s hand tighten once more, choking her and felt her head go very light, the pain fading from her limbs as darkness washed over her. She realised with a last glimmer that she had failed. She had sworn to Kain that she would avenge him but had only ended up getting herself, and probably Damon killed as well. Damon. She smiled to herself. But all of that seemed so far away now, it didn’t matter. Let someone else fight, she just wanted to sleep.

Damon was dimly aware of the sound of voices. As his eyes slowly fluttered open and he tried to move, a sudden pain exploded in his head and he was forced to lie still to keep from throwing up. He could feel some sort of wood, rough against his skin and as he opened his eyes again more slowly, saw wooden boards. He was lying on a dock. And suddenly memories came flooding back.
  Aeon! He had to help her. Clasping his pounding head, he rose gingerly to his knees, struggling to make out two, no three figures as his vision swam in and out of focus. As his sight sharpened he could see that the third person was being held by the throat and long red hair told him that it was Aeon. Kriten was dangling her just above the level of the boards and a shorter person; Celine stood next to him. Why wasn’t she helping Aeon?
  Damon crawled forward, feeling the pain slowly fading from his head, just as the voices stopped. He could see Aeon struggling in Kriten’s grip but he was holding her too tightly. It hit him like a kick in the gut that if he didn’t act soon, she would die. The feeling of urgency rising inside, he scrambled about looking for his sabre. Feeling the familiar solidity of the handle, he pulled it towards him, wincing from the sudden stab of pain. Gripping his weapon tightly, he rose, to a hunched standing position and then summoning what strength he had left, suddenly bolted forward.
  Damon was weak but his determination was iron hard and he shot forward like an arrow, brandishing his blade and baring his fangs just a he reached Kriten and his sword sank into his back. It met slight resistance at his rib cage but then continued though the wall of his chest and with a final strangled cry, Kriten slumped forward, Aeon’s body falling from his grasp and he slumped on top of her, lifeblood pouring in a torrent over her.
  Damon scrambled forward, rolling the hefty weight of the dead coven master off her and he lent down over her. He could see that her breathing was shallow as he reached one hand beneath her head, to cradle her. Don’t you dare die! He thought at her, don’t you dare! He bowed his head, pressing his cheek against the softness of hers and whispered in her ear, “I promised we would finish this together and we will.”
  Aeon didn’t respond and he tenderly stroked her forehead, “I love you,” he told her. He blinked back hot tears, the emptiness welling inside him as he held her tighter.
“I love you too,” a voice whispered hoarsely. Damon sat bolt upright, staring down at a set of green eyes that watched him blearily.
“I thought you…”
“It would seem I had a reason to live after all,” Aeon smiled up at him, such a radiant smile that he couldn’t help but beam back at her.
“Yes, it would seem that way.”
“Damon, what do we do now?” she asked, smile fading at the sudden thought that they had just killed the leader of their coven and that even though they had exacted revenge, her brother was still dead.
  Damon’s reassuring eyes gazed steadily down at her, “We will go back to the coven and explain what has happened, we can both be truth-read and they can send out a team to retrieve Kain. They will know the truth,” he paused, “and we can give Kain the burial of honour that he deserves.” Aeon listened to his reassuring words and knew that he was right. She smiled again,
  “You hear that big brother, you’re getting a hero’s burial!” she called out into the night and they both burst out laughing.