This Side of the Grave (#5 Night Huntress)

somber yet elegant design of the two-story building. The other area that had lights was on the edge of the southern burial plats, bordering against
the unplowed acres set aside for future graves. I looked down at the small, illuminated platform, one ghoul standing in between the two portable
floodlights, and couldn’t bite back my scoff.
Apollyon didn’t have those lights set up on either side of him so his followers could get a good view of him gesturing emphatically during his
rhetoric about how Cain was really a ghoul and vampires originally derived from flesh-eaters instead of the other way around. Ghouls could see in
the dark. How arrogant did Apollyon have to be, to insist on being lit up like a rock star during what was supposed to be a secret undead rally? And
was that an Armani suit he had on? In my boringly functional, all-black leotard with multiple weapon holsters, I was clearly underdressed for this
shindig.
Bones abruptly tilted us downward and all thoughts of clothing left my mind. Fabian was right; a crowd of around sixty gathered in a loose
diamond-shaped formation, listening to Apollyon with rapt attention, while about two dozen guards armed with machine guns roamed around the
assembly. We’d also seen about four or five guards near the main entrance of the cemetery, but I wasn’t worried about them. Mencheres would
handle them, and Denise and Kira would make sure no latecomers showed up.
I gripped my two katana swords as Bones bulleted us toward the thickest cluster of armed guards. Goal number one was to take out the guns
before the guns took us out. I had a split second to enjoy the look of shock on the guards’ faces as either Bones’s power level preceded us, or they
saw a big dark form hurtling right for them. And then we plowed into them with a tremendous crash.
The impact was like smashing into a group of trees, except these trees shouted and fought back. I hacked away with my two swords before even
coming to a stop, knowing Bones had already rolled to the side to stay well clear of my blades. Limbs and heads separated underneath my
ferocious slices as I used the shorter swords like extensions of my arms, swinging away at anyone in front of me no matter if they were armed or
not. If they were here, then they were on Apollyon’s side, which meant they’d kill me if they could.
More gunfire and shouts let me know that the rest of our welcoming party had landed. As much as I wanted to look around and check on Bones, I
didn’t, keeping my attention on hacking my way to the ghouls who were now spraying the crowd in an effort to take out the intruders. Flashes of
white-hot pain arced into my side, making me roll in defense even as I continued to swing my blades at anyone unlucky enough to be near me.
Dammit. I’d been hit.
All the tumbling made my hair come loose from its bun. Dark strands interrupted my vision as I rolled to avoid another barrage of bullets, seeing
the grass explode in mini pops where I’d just been. Acting on instinct, I flung my sword, hearing a scream before I jumped up, my side still burning,
to see a ghoul fall backward clawing at his face, my sword hilt where his nose used to be.
I ignored the pain and vaulted forward, tackling him before he could raise the gun again. A hard swipe across his neck and he wasn’t moving
anymore. Another swipe took out the trigger on the gun. No need leaving it functional so a bystander could pick it up and start shooting away.
Pain exploded in my neck in the next instant, blood filling my mouth. I grabbed the dead ghoul, using his body as a shield, coughing even though I
didn’t breathe. That searing matched the pain in my side, but it faded quicker, and the red on my clothes let me know what happened. I’d been shot
in the throat.
Somehow, that pissed me off more than the bullets still burning their way deeper into my side. I kept ahold of the corpse, balancing his body in
front of me as I charged at the ghoul who continued to fire at me. Those bullets struck his fallen comrade instead, and I had time to let out a savage
snarl before I threw the body on him, knocking him over. I followed immediately with my sword, slicing through the arm he raised in defense and then
his neck, putting all my pain and anger behind the blow. His head rolled a foot away from his body.
I didn’t stop to celebrate but swung around. Just in time, too. A duo of ghouls bored down on me, one shooting, one holding out a knife. I had time
to fling myself upward, making the bullets intended for me hit empty air instead, before I landed behind them. My sword ripped through both their
necks with the momentum from my jump, blood splattering me as they fell, headless, to the ground.
“Kitten!”
My head jerked up just in time to see a flash of silver above me. I flung myself down, the sword that had been about to cleave through my neck
catching me in the side of the head instead. At once, my vision went red and agony exploded in my skull. Every inner impulse screamed at me to
hunch defensively and clutch my wound, but the part of me that remembered all the brutal training Bones put me through knew to strike out instead. I
swung my blade where I’d last glimpsed the ghoul’s legs, putting all my strength into the blow. I was rewarded by a scream and a thump, something
heavy landing on me. The blood in my vision made it hard to make out specifics, but I kept swinging, knowing from each new scream that I was
hitting my mark even if I couldn’t see what that mark was. Sizzling pain erupting along my back had me arching in reflex and redoubling my efforts.
The ghoul wasn’t done fighting yet.
After several rapid blinks, my gaze cleared enough to see him. His arm was missing. So were his legs at the calves, but he had a silver knife that
he kept stabbing into my back, seeking my heart. Instead of rolling away from him, I lunged forward, head-butting him with all my fury. He jerked
back in a dazed way, but the sudden stars in my vision and urge to throw up let me know that my head injury wasn’t done healing yet. With pain
crashing through my skull and my side throbbing like I had heat-seeking missiles doing the tango in my guts, I brought my sword down toward his
neck.
He kicked me with his stumps at the same time, knocking my aim off. Instead of cleaving through his neck, my sword buried deep in his shoulder.
I tugged but it wouldn’t come free. The ghoul let out something like a snarl and a laugh.
“Missed me,” he chortled viciously, raising his gun.
My other arm whipped forward and the ghoul’s laugh died in his throat. He fired, but the bullets went wild, probably because he now had two