Slaying the Vampire Conqueror

by Carissa Broadbent

“Know this, Nyaxia. You have crossed a line here today. Done what cannot be undone. I have fought too long and too hard on your behalf to be disrespected like this.

Why did I want to press his threads to my soul, deep enough I’d take their memory with me when I went?

I wouldn’t defend myself. Wouldn’t explain. What could I say to him? He had already seen the truth.

“I prefer to meet death standing up.” Another flippant echo of our first meeting.

“I cannot kill you because I know you, Vivi. I know every moment you lied to me, because I know every moment you told the truth. I know your truth. I can’t ignore it. Even though it would be far easier if I could.”

But I could see Atrius. Barely—just a little. I could make out the shape of his form, blurry and silhouetted, and the dim suggestion of his pale skin and silver hair.

“I’m not afraid of death.” But I am afraid of this. Atrius, of course, already knew. “Me too,” he murmured,

“They’ll listen to you. If they don’t, we’ll just kill them all.”

I witnessed it every time I was in the presence of Atrius.

The fight will always be worth it.

That was how we fucked—frantically, like we were still racing against time or gods or curses.

“Yes,” he whispered, understanding, as always, all that I was saying.

“I think,” Atrius murmured, as if he was having the same thoughts I did, “the future will be good.”