Cursed Earth (Kat Drummond Book 12) by Nicholas Woode-Smith

Author:Nicholas Woode-Smith [Woode-Smith, Nicholas]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-04-26T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15.

Confrontation

The roar of engines flooded the night air of Hope City as a convoy of Crusaders and police surged towards Athlone Stadium. The dead streets of the border-slum soon turned into a parade of stampeding vehicles. Fortunately, there were no pedestrians about to be hit.

The mole in the Crusaders came in handy. For, as soon as I had sent out the APB, Montague and the Chairperson were on the line. They wanted in. And, for once, I was glad that the police were going to be there. This was most likely a trap, and we needed as many people as we could muster. Which meant every single Crusader. Not just those on duty. All of them.

No one complained. No one requested overtime.

The Necro Lord had two of our own. We’d make him bleed for that.

The city was dark as we turned into view of the stadium. No lights shone on the structure. Only moonlight provided a silhouette of the now disused structure. After this was done, I’d formally request they demolish it. It seemed all it was good for these days was hosting duels.

Brett’s van, containing the five of us (six if you included Treth), screeched to a halt, joining a motley crew of flashing police cars and Crusader vehicles. I jumped out of the van as it was still moving, and immediately saw Conrad conversing anxiously with the Chairperson himself, with a silent Captain Montague standing to the side.

The three of them went silent as they saw me approach, my coat threatening to burst into an inferno as it lit up the dark night.

Montague paled.

“Last Light! I’m sorry...”

“Reconnaissance, Montague! We gather intel first then we commit to the raids. That was the plan!” I yelled. I noted that Treth’s sword was drawn. He wouldn’t use it, but he was angry too.

“I lost men too…” he replied, voice soft. “Good men.”

“What were they doing? How did they get caught?” I continued to yell. His soft-spoken manner was a far cry from that of his brother. It didn’t calm me.

“Doing what is needed,” Riaan interjected, finally. I spun on him. He didn’t flinch. Seemed he was getting used to the Kat death glare.

“They knew what they signed up for,” he continued.

I considered hitting him. But even my coat thought that was a bad idea. Its flames dimmed, as rain began to fall, letting out tiny hisses as it hit the boiling scales.

“There’s no use arguing,” Conrad announced, stepping between us. “There’re good men still living in there. Trap or not, we can’t abandon them.”

He looked at me, pointedly. “Are you ready for what’s in there, Kat?”

“I have to be,” I replied, immediately.

He nodded, pride and sadness resonating in the gesture all at once.

I didn’t think he knew how much the former meant to me.

I put out my hand and let Treth manifest Ithalen into it. Riaan jumped back. I turned to the assorted Crusaders and police.

“Crusaders!” I bellowed. “Tonight, we save our own!”

I let the war cries wash over me as I turned towards the black silhouette of the stadium and advanced, an army at my back.

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