Capper faced the Baelock force, axe hanging loose in one hand, his knuckle-duster wrapped around the other. For a moment he let his gaze wander sadly across the skyline of the city, taking in the shadow walls of buildings and the glitter of stars above them. So this was it. Veridian Shores and its clans, condemned to death by a single act. He felt strangely numb. Questions churned in the back of his mind that he couldn't answer. How had Arcil traced the theft to Glaive? They'd left no clues for him to follow.

But that didn't change the fact that the Baelock warriors were here now.

They hadn't quite reached the Glaive grounds yet – Beel's scouts had done just enough to give the clan warning; time to prepare a defence. But he could see them out there, dark shapes flitting from building to building like bats, weapons glinting and harsh orders barking gutturally through the night. Just inside the main wall the Glaive guards were frantically assembling, grouping around the armoured, powerful figures of their Elder-Bloods. The Elders themselves would remain safe within the mansion, only sullying their hands with combat in the most dire of circumstances.

On his left, Beel shouldered his bolt-thrower and shook his head, disbelief clearly etched on his rugged features. "Can't believe they're actually going to do this."

"That makes two of us."

"What Brooke said – about you guys not being as stealthy as you thought – what did she mean by that?" the guard asked.

"It's a long story."

"Is it one you're allowed to tell me?"

"When this is over I'll tell you everything, you have my word on that." He clapped Beel on the shoulder. "But right now, we need to deal with these lunatics."

"Sounds good to me." Beel checked the sight of his weapon, exhaled a long breath, and strode away towards the main gatehouse. Capper watched him go, anger and guilt chewing at his insides. Then his gaze turned outward again.

With everything that had happened, Capper found that he just wanted it to end, for better or worse. He scanned the dark ranks of Baelock warriors that were scattered through the streets facing the Glaive mansion. He took in a heavy breath, gently swaying his axe back and forth with a languid motion of his wrist.

Then the bolts started flying.

He couldn't see them straight away, but his amplified hearing picked out the unmistakable thunk of their fire. No immediate casualties were inflicted, but he spotted more than one Glaive guard crumple, crying out in pain as a bolt found its mark in a non-lethal area. He tensed and glanced at Gliss.

"Get ready," he whispered harshly as the Glaive guards started to return fire, popping up and down over the perimeter wall like ducks on a firing range. Gliss thwacked the duelling sticks together and slowly sank into a fighting stance.

Capper was moving the instant he saw the first dark shapes come hurtling over the perimeter wall. A handful were smashed from mid-flight by well-aimed bolts. He saw one guard leap from the wall and slam into one of the attackers in the air – both of them came crashing to the ground in a mess of limbs.

As one of the enemies landed, Capper was right there to meet them. With a snarl born out of all the frustration of the past weeks, he swung his axe in a savage upward stroke, cleaving the Baelock vampire's head off in one blow. The body tottered drunkenly for a moment before slumping to its knees. Then it contorted, as though folding up on itself, before a shrieking wind boiled around it and it turned to ash.

The battle exploded around him as the Baelock attack force came piling over the walls, a mix of two dozen Elder-Bloods along with a force of guards. Bolt throwers were tossed aside as the Glaive guards drew their duelling rods, while their counterparts fought with their heavy forward-curving short swords. And then vampires on both sides started dying.

Capper moved instinctively as the battle took hold. He twisted, stepped, parried and swung, blocked a sword against his axe and smashed his knuckle-duster into the attacker's jaw with a sickening crunch of breaking bone. The force flung the vampire away from him and he spun to block a two handed downward swipe from another enemy.

He strained against the force, pushing back with a growl of exertion as the sword locked against his axe haft, but before he could dislodge the other vampire, the tip of a duelling rod exploded from his chest, right where his heart ought to have been. The Baelock warrior's eyes opened wide in shock and the pressure he was exerting instantly slackened. Then the rod withdrew and he toppled to the ground, revealing Gliss, her hair dishevelled and a slowly healing gash down her right cheek. She met his gaze for an instant, then bared her fangs and spun, bringing both rods together and swinging them like a baseball bat and shattering the teeth of another onrushing attacker.

As the melee continued he lost sight of her, having to concentrate on defending himself as more Baelock attackers poured over the wall, just barely contained by a bulging ring of Glaive guards. Occasionally he caught glimpses of the others between his own frantic fighting; Finbarr's towering frame loping through the battle, Brooke spinning and whirling like a deadly catherine-wheel and Isobel clad in her ornate golden armour weaving through the chaos with an ever-present entourage of loyal guards.

But Baelock's Elder-Bloods were there too, and they were causing havoc among the Glaive guards. Older, stronger, and with the blood of Elders sizzling in their veins, they were a match for any five of the rank-and-file. Capper moved to intercept one of them – a rangy, short-haired female vampire who was carving her way through the Glaive ranks with a pair of short swords.

He reached her just as she was swinging for another kill blow. Capper slung his axe up into the path of her blade to block it, but he swung with such savage force that he actually smashed the blade clean out of her hand. As the stricken Glaive guard scrambled away, the other Elder-Blood was already moving. With a hiss of anger she lashed at him with her remaining sword and he just managed to parry it with a jab of his knuckle-duster. Stepping back, he swung out with the axe but she ducked and lunged forward.

Capper didn't try to dodge it, instead side-stepping into the blade so it plunged into his stomach. Pain exploded from the impact point, but the wound wouldn't do him any serious harm. Even so, the move to deliberately impale himself wrong-footed the woman and she hesitated, leaving him a window to smash her eye-socket with a thunderous blow from his knuckle-duster. She reeled backwards with a scream of pain, leaving her sword embedded in his gut.

With a snarl of effort he tugged it free and swung. The weapon was lighter than he was used to so the cut wasn't clean, but he still put enough force into the swing to sever her head from her body, leaving a ragged, bloodied stump behind. Her body fell, but he was already looking for another target.

He'd lost sight of Gliss completely – she could have been anywhere in the chaos now. Try as he might he couldn't see her small frame anywhere, especially with the consistent interruptions of Baelock guards who thought his head would make a worthy trophy for their advancement. He sent one spinning away with a clout from the flat of his axe and flung another bodily back over the wall as he rampaged through the maelstrom of bodies.

Then his eyes landed on two battling figures and a shudder of apprehension shot through him. He saw Beel surrounded by a half dozen bodies of both Baelock and Glaive guards, some dying, some wounded, and he was lathered in blood. But now, bearing down on him, was Vandel. The sadistic Baelock Elder-Blood wielded a longer variant of their clan swords, holding it in both hands and taking vicious, hammer-like swings.

Beel backed and twisted away, parrying the crushingly powerful blows as best he could. Before long, however, one of his duelling rods was smashed out of his hand, sent sailing through the night air.

Reacting instantly, Beel ripped a spare bolt from his belt and slammed it through Vandel's wrist as the sword came swinging again. The Baelock Elder-Blood hissed with pain and the sword clattered to the ground, and with bared teeth, he back-handed Beel across the face with enough force to lift the other vampire off his feet and launch him into a backward flip. Seeing how the exchange was unfolding, Capper shouldered a Baelock guard out of his path and started running towards them.

Beel scrambled back to his feet with his remaining duelling rod in hand. Vandel tugged the stake from his wrist with his teeth and spat it contemptuously onto the ground before lunging forward again. Beel stabbed the rod at his attacker but Vandel swerved around it and caught the guard's wrist in one vice-like hand, halting its momentum and stepping close. Capper smashed another enemy out of his path, moving with desperate speed.

Too late he closed the gap between them. Too late.

Beel was one of the best fighters in the guard, but against an Elder-Blood he couldn't hope to survive a direct confrontation. He simply didn't have the age and blood to match Vandel's sheer strength. With a malevolent smile spreading across his features, Vandel twisted the other vampire's wrist, snapping it out of place and grabbed the duelling rod as it fell. Even running as fast as his powerful limbs would carry him, Capper could only watch helplessly as the spiked point was turned and driven into Beel's heart.

A wordless scream of anger ripped from Capper's throat as he felt the tremor in his friend's Aspect. Death rang through the air. Vandel released his hold and let the dying vampire fall as he watched the hideous results of his handiwork. In front of him Beel collapsed, containing his scream for long enough to keep a glare of pure, unfettered hatred fixed upon his killer. Then his body convulsed and folded down into the foetal position. Then his last, banshee howl of defiance ripped across the battlefield before the ashes took him, and Capper felt it as though he'd lost a limb. Tears welled in his eyes as he raised his axe, not breaking stride, moving like a blur through the battle.

Carelessly, Vandel tossed the duelling rod aside and stooped to pick up his sword. He straightened up and dusted himself off, his smile morphing into an evil grin. Then he turned.

He was still grinning when Capper hacked his head from his shoulders.