“Get the people out of here,” I yell to Rythe picking myself up from the dirt and fake skeletons Jonah had just tossed me through.

I expected him to make some grand entrance at midnight, but when nothing happened, I started arguing with Rythe. He was madder than I had ever seen him, I could feel the heat coming off his body. Something I had never felt before. He said I wasted his time and Jonah was probably out claiming his annual Halloween victim. In the midst of our argument a blast of air slammed into me, and sent me flying into a pile of bodies, or a pile of skeletons resembling bodies after a battle.

I still don’t see Jonah when the dust clears, but he’s here somewhere. I’m ready for him this time, I’ve taken some iron pills, plenty of cinnamon, garlic and cayenne pepper to top me off. I even drank a little blood, not as much as I did back in the day, but enough that I’m ready for Jonah. I won’t be passing out or getting dizzy tonight. Tonight, I kill him or make it really easy for someone to finish the job.

I finally spot him, at least what I think is him, walking through the dust and commotion. Taller, but arms elongated enough to nearly drag the ground, his wings look to be made of bone or granite, something that shouldn’t be able to fly. His mouth almost looks like it’s filled with pointed teeth. Some parts of his body look like his bones are going to shoot through his leathery flesh. The thing that gives him away is the leather boots and pants that now look like capris. Classic Jonah look, ever since he began riding his motorcycle. I don’t recognize the dimly glowing tattoos across his torso. His laugh is the final piece, higher pitched, but still distinct. This is Jonah, but what happened to him? Why is he like this? He’s almost more gargoyle than man, and a far as I know, gargoyles were just an invention by architects based on dragons, but he doesn’t look like a dragon.

It’s been a long time but I let the blood drip down my arms forming blades on each. My favorite way to fight. Gives me the ability use swords as fluidly as others use their hands, all without having to worry about losing my grip. I don’t wait for him to get close so I can attack. The difference between us is I can use projectile attacks. I launch a stream of needles at him.

He covers his body with his wings. When he looks out, I’m already on the move. Another blast of needles. When I get behind him I notice his back has gone through some changes as well, his spine protruding from his flesh, bone poking through in some parts. Makes an easy target.

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I slash at his back and he moves away using his wings to propel him into the night. Another shot of blood needles. This time he uses his wings to create a gust of air and scatter them. So that’s how he hit me earlier. I guess he got one new power besides being ugly.

“You like the new me,” he asks cockily, giving me a chance to catch my breath.

“What happened.”

“Few changes here and there, some new power. Got tired of being the weakling that needed to be saved all the time. Made some changes, learned some new tricks.”

“What’s with all the tattoos,” I ask still buying time.

“Names, different shapes, different languages, but all of them mean power to me. Pieces of the souls that I’ve conquered over the years. Each granting me more power.”

“So that’s why you’re all twisted looking.”

“I think I look great. Good to see you’re back to normal.”

“Why Justin? What did he do to you?”

“Oh, well, that was an accident. The only regret in my life. I lost control. He could have protected himself, but he didn’t. I loved my brother. Still do. Sometimes things just happen.”

I don’t hesitate, I rush in and start taking swipes. He blocks what he can. Every now and then something gets through and slashes at his torso. I’m back. The blood queen. Even with his new powers, I’m too fast for him. I’m not even controlling my body, I’m controlling my blood. It lets my motions become more fluid, harder to predict. He’s stronger, but I won’t give him an opening. I’ll slit his sorry throat before the night is over.

A solid kick lands in the middle of my chest causing me to drop to a knee. I roll over on the ground before he can follow with a punch. I keep rolling and he keeps stomping. Blood, from my needles. Blood is mine. I launch the needles the straight from the ground into him.

I get back to my feet as he tries to remove the needles. He’s seen me fight. He knows the more of those needles that sink into him, the more I can control him. He’s sporting a new cut above his right eye. I did that. Another place for me to get blood into him. I might not be able to beat him in a straight fight, but if I can get enough in there to make him hold still, I can kill him.

I rush back in and start slashing. He’s forced to decide on blocking me or stopping the needles from piercing his flesh. He chooses to block me. If I’m gone the blood won’t matter. He’s still the untrained hot head he always was. I knew we weren’t matched if I was on my game.

Jonah blasts me back with an air gust. Then he shoots off. He’s running, I got this in the bag. No, he’s going for Rythe. Jonah is almost there, he’s going to kill Rythe and Rythe won’t even see it coming.