I considered leaving this a secret, but I think it’s more fun to show this. It also drives home the fact that War of Nytefall and Legends of Windemere are in the same world. Enjoy the brief and amusing crossover. To be fair, it’s mostly Clyde and Mab with their usual antics.
“Join my father and-”
“For the last time, I’m not interested, Steven.”
“That’s Stephen Kerna-”
“I care even less right now.”
“If you’re not-”
“With you then I’m against you. I know the drill, you pathetic waste of immortality.”
Flipping a severed arm into his hand, Clyde jams the limb into the dark-haired man’s mouth and casually wipes his fingers on his pants. The powerful vampire looks around at the devastated forest and wonders if his opponent has contributed anything to the destruction. Sniffing the air, he finds that the cocky immortal’s blood is all that is smeared across the landscape and the only injury he has suffered is a splinter from a tree that he used as a club. Examining his corn-shaped necklace, Clyde buffs a mark out of it and turns around to find that Stephen has fully recovered, the angry man gasping for air due to the strain on his magic. With a sigh, the vampire unleashes a little of his Lord’s Rage and inhales the wisps of red that flow from his body. As the Dawn Fang cracks his knuckles, the battered immortal’s long hair shortens and his fancy clothes turn into familiar black garments. Realizing that his enemy is changing to mimic his look, Clyde roars and grabs the man by the face. His grip drives his fingers into the soft flesh, which wriggles in an attempt to regenerate the damage. Instead of tearing Stephen’s head off, the silver-fanged vampire leaps high into the air and hurls him towards the horizon with the darkest clouds.
“Be somebody else’s problem, copycat,” Clyde mutters while he takes a seat under a dented tree.
The instant he leans back, the vampire tumbles into his own shadow and finds himself floating upside down in a dark void. Arms crossed and foot tapping on nothing, he stares at a grinning Dawn Fang in a hydra-skin jacket. Mab’s green eyes sparkle like gems and she has let her chestnut hair grow an inch past her shoulders over the last two years. Clyde considers mentioning that he notices the change, but stops when he considers that she might simply have been too busy transporting womb-born and pulling heists to give herself a haircut. Already disappointed in his previous battle, he knows that a spat with his partner would only make him angrier and more frustrated. The sound of bellowing monsters echo in the distance, the strange creatures always keeping their distance whenever the deadly progenitor is brought into their realm. He finally rights himself and tucks his hands into his pockets, which forces Mab to grab him by the elbow. It takes Clyde a moment to realize that they are flying arm in arm, so he slips out of her grasp and catches her by the wrist.
“It was either that or drag you by the ankle,” the burglar says with a smirk. Hearing the monsters before she sees them, she swerves around a flock of ephemeral sheep that can drain the moisture from whatever they touch. “So, the boys are back at Nytefall after investigating the latest disappearances. It was Narwid and his gang, which is a shame because they were working with mortals. You should probably hear the report from Luther since he worked all night with Chastity to get as much information as possible. Those two are so close you’d think something was going on behind closed doors. Guess you aren’t in the mood for gossip. That meeting not go very well?”
“Another idiot out for world domination who thinks the Dawn Fangs would make the perfect army,” Clyde replies as they pick up speed. Remembering the splinter, he calmly bites off the itchy finger and spits it into the mouth of a yawning, pufferfish-like creature. “I hope they get the hint this time because I’m tired of being treated like a thug for hire. How did we never know that there were so many ambitious warlords, necrocasters, and maniacs out there? Doesn’t make me feel that special now.”
“Oh, you’re a hundred times the brutal monster that any of them are, but you’re smart enough to hide it,” Mab declares before she hears a scream in her head. No longer jarred by the sudden outbursts of the dead, she whispers a few curses in the spirit’s native tongue, which convinces it to leave her alone. “I think I’ve got most of the basic languages down. At least, a few juicy threats and naughty words, which throw the voices off. They always seem louder in here, which makes me wonder if this is part of the afterlife. You know, we’ve never really explored this place.”
Clyde gives a yank to stop his partner’s momentum, the jerk nearly tearing her arm out of its socket. “You’ve got to be kidding. This isn’t the time for wandering in the dark. Xavier is hosting his little party in a few days and I want to crash it. He has to drop the wards to let the new council in as well as all of the dignitaries he’s invited. All to see him get crowned and not in the fun way. Pompous bastard is actually going to call himself the Vampire King. It’s like he’s already won the war when it’s only been ten years.”
“It’s been nearly two decades with very little progress.”
“Well, why is that?”
“Because a large-scale slaughter would reveal us to the mortals and you want to draw out your fun.”
“This plan is better than me acting like a moping warlord.”
“True, but Xavier is probably expecting us.”
“That’s only because I responded to a stolen invitation.”