Of Dragons & Vampires

Chapter Twenty Seven

Atlas glared at the sight before him, the island he had been searching for for decades towered in the distance. Great mountains glowered in the background, coated in thick green trees. White sand surrounded the beach, meeting the azure blue of the sea. It was beautiful, so beautiful that Atlas wanted to vomit. It reeked of Ejder Drake, but that wasn't the sight that made him want to tear someone limb from limb, it was the hundreds of supernaturals lining the beach.

He hid his surprise and disgust that so many had rebelled and were standing there proudly and ready to die. His heart thundered, they clearly didn't know their place. He would make sure every single supernatural on that island was massacred, every man, woman and child. For Constantine and for his dynasty.

"Show no mercy," Atlas turned to his general and Mordecai, who was practically dripping with bloodlust and malice. "And you," he stared down his youngest son, "don't get distracted by that treacherous little fuck and his winged worm, just bring me his head and leave the dragon to me."

Mordecai gritted his teeth, the muscles in his jaw rigged, before he nodded.

Atlas opened his mouth to bark out an order when the boat lurched. He surged forwards, falling to his knees, his hands instantly grabbing Mordecai before his son toppled over the edge and into the waves. The boats beside him rocked, lurching from their place.

That's when he heard it, the unmistakable shrill shrieking of Mers.

"GET DOWN!" He bellowed, in time to see the tails of dozens of Mers whip around the boats so fast human eyes would not be able to see them. The shrieks grew louder and louder until his men were on their knees, covering their ears. Mers snaked from the water, fangs barred, hair slicked back and wet as they dove from the water and grabbed soldiers from their boats. Atlas could make out the glimmer of iron swords, the metal punching into the bodies of his men as they were dragged down into the waves. Boats began to capsize as the Mers grew in confidence with the more men they took down.

"FAES!" Mordecai snarled, pointing above him. Sure enough, Atlas could see the winged creatures flying high above the boats, their hands glowing with the blue glimmer of water magic.

"Keep rowing! That's an order!" Atlas bellowed loud enough for his men to hear him. The Faes formed a circle, their hands swirling around them as the waves grew higher and higher, rougher and rougher until the boats were pushed further and further from the beach and the cheering army of supernaturals lining it.

They're cheering. Atlas gritted his teeth but could not react as a flash of dark skin and green hair flew from the water, catching him and knocking him into the sea.

He spun around, glaring at the white fangs barred in his face as the female Mer wrapped her arms around his neck, reaching for an iron sword strapped to her olive-green tail.

How dare she touch him. Atlas snarled, gripping the half-fish's wrist before he reached her blade and snapped it, her wrist along with it. He felt the bone shatter, supressing a grin in the salty water as she screeched. He brought his hands to her neck, his fingers sliding into her gills before he tore. Bubbles poured from the slits, flesh tearing and mixing with the red blood in the water. Fear and pain sparked in the Mer's eyes before they rolled back, her body and tail going limp.

He pushed the corpse away, kicking his legs and breaking the surface. He felt cold hands scramble for him, pulling him up until he felt the sodden wood of the boat's deck on his cheek.

"Father?" Mordecai's face intruded his view.

"I'm fine," he snapped, scrambling up and surveying the damage. The bodies of his soldiers littered the sea, bobbing idly in the waves. He caught sight of the odd torn corpse of a mermaid, but his men made up most of the casualties.