Dedari felt the earth tremble, and knew the struggle the undead was having with Prest, Amia, and Zande.
He knew the precise moment the monster allowed Amia to slip through his fingers.
Dedari felt the hesitation in power, the shift.
As the ghouls launched their combined attack, the vampire burst through the earth's soil in an all-out assault against Jacob.
Dedari waited until the last possible moment, holding himself still, arms outstretched, a seeming sacrifice to the evil one. His face was turned up to the heavens, the darkened clouds and arcing lighting, the wind whipping his jet-black hair around him.
He slowly lowered his head so that his merciless eyes encompassed the rushing ghouls. Fiery flames seemed to dance in the depths of his gaze. He looked invincible, a phantom of the night, the prince of darkness, yet his outstretched hands were turned palms up toward the heavens in supplication.
