The Discarded

Chapter 33

Alexandra walked in, the door slamming open with Bleaz slamming into the wall. Fitted designer jeans hugged her long, muscled legs and curved hips. Her pale green shirt showed off her athletic body. Hardened muscle flexed along her shoulders and arms as she closed the door behind her. The Thagirion moved aside as she stalked through them, their primal instincts recognizing an apex killer.

She had no aura of power, no raw sexuality to enslave and control. Instead, she owned a physical presence that dominated every move she made, from the balanced grace of her walk to the silence that cloaked her steps. Alexandra radiated a deadly competency, a set of skills learned and honed by over a decade of brutal training in the blessed arts of murder.

She set herself in front of Cesare and to the side. With that move, she'd set herself against the gods of the school. She was ready to face them, a wall of blood and vampiric rage.

"We were just talking," Abraxas said uneasily. Cesare was dangerous, but not in the way Alexandra was. It's dangerous coming across a mad dog on the street, but it's a world away from finding a hungry panther above you.

"Funny, I think the Commander is here because of one of your talks." Her lips fell into a well practiced sneer, needled fangs lengthening into points. "Why don't you talk to me, snake?" Alexandra smiled at the rage that disfigured Abraxas's face. Rolling her shoulders in readiness, humanity drained from her face.

Soft human features slipped away as her eyes sharpened with predatory perception, cheekbones forming bone razors as Cesare watched. "You're good fighters. But do you know the difference between a soldier and a fighter? A fighter fights. A soldier kills. I bet I can rip your snake head off your shoulders before you can change. Let's find out, belly crawler?"

She leaned forward, her face a mask of bloodless skin and sharp bones. The Thagirion looked at each other in horror. This wasn't what they'd wanted. A fight in the room of the boy they'd eviscerated was a death sentence. A fight here ... they'd be expelled if they were lucky. If not, the Mistress could kill them for the insult.

None of that mattered to Cesare. Reaching forward, he laid his hand on Alexandra's hip. The contact caused the vampire's head to whip around, raw, feral intent shriveling his guts with fear. But she was his friend.

"Enough, Alexandra." The vampire pulled back without hesitation. The fangs dimpling her lip retreated slowly, not all the way but enough. Flesh filled out her face as the illusion of humanity washed over her. One long step back put her by his side.

Leaving his hand on the vampire's hip, he switched his attention back to the Thagirion. Abraxas's eyes were locked on Cesare's hand on Alexandra, speculation running rampant across the dragon's face. It was a game changer. The paradigm had changed. They were not singular enemies or even a team. No, something more dangerous than that.

It was Cesare in command of Alexandra. What could a tactician like Cesare do with a weapon as deadly as Alexandra? What could Genghis Khan have done with a tactical nuke? But it paled next to the intensity that ran through Anastasia's eyes at the casual contact between Cesare and the vampire.

Flooding into the room in a river of ebony feathers, dozens of ravens poured through the window. They washed over the people, drowning them in stygian feathers and flashing beaks, claws shining silver with eager hate. The cloud obscured the Thagirion from view, leaving only him and Alexandra in an island of calm. The walls disappeared behind black birds and sable feathers. No caws broke up the deafening sound of coarse beating wings. No calls of fury or anger sounded as cold, murderous intent filled the room. In a rush, the ravens coalesced into an incensed Elizabeth standing between the Thagirion and Cesare.