Page 18 of Princess Claimed

“Nice try.” I shake my head. The second I leave the room, Flame will be inside Ana’s bedroom—inside her a second after that.

I aim a stake toward Flame’s favorite painting, a domestic scene by some seventeenth century Swedish artist. “Who wants to bet if I can stake the mother figure right in the eye?”

“Fuck it.” Flame stomps toward the exit leading to the gym. “Let’s get them.” He grabs Blade’s arm on the way past, and they return in seconds, each carrying two of our life-sized targets specially designed for stake practice.

Flame and Blade set up the four dummies at intervals along the side of the room, and I grab a third bandolier of stakes for Flame.

“Learn anything helpful in those books you’ve been reading?” Flame asks Blade.

Nodding, Blade tosses a stake toward one of the targets, easily striking the spot representing a heart. A stationary dummy is no challenge, especially at close range.

“Stakes down.” I turn to make sure neither is about to throw. “I’m turning the targets on.”

“I’ve read every book we have here with any info about demons,” Blade tells Flame as I flip the switches that will make this target practice more fun.

“Do you really think that Rasputin guy was a demon?” Flame asks, clearly skeptical. “I thought they were extinct or some shit.”

“They were banished from the earth long ago.” Blade waits until I’m back and then fires a stake to the left, narrowly missing a dummy as it shoots from the floor toward the ceiling. The target lands a few feet back and to the right from where it started.

“Someone’s out of practice.” Flame chuckles.

Blade shakes his head. “The last demons were banished from the earth in the fifteenth century.”

“That’s good.” Leaping across the room, I stake a target then leap back. “That is good, isn’t it?”

Blade stares at the stake in his hand. “The banishment meant demons could no longer take form in this realm without a host.”

He throws toward another target, just as the thing jumps to the right, but his stake lands directly in the proverbial heart of the straw-filled object, hitting the metal there with a satisfying clunk. The target automatically pushes out the stake, and it clatters to the floor.

“Good shot.” I clap Blade on the back. “How does this host thing work?” I ask. “Is host another way to say possession?”

“I need to do more research.” Blade frowns.

Flame takes a shot at the farthest target, easily striking its heart even as it springs up and back at the last moment, then he spins and stakes another on the other side of the room.

“I need to do more research,” Blade tells me. “I don’t have the right books here. But based on what I’ve read, and on what I know about Russian history, I think Rasputin made a deal with a demon. A deal that saved his life back in the early 1900’s and let him live this long.”

“And Ana?” I ask, even though it risks bringing their minds back onto the topic I’ve been trying to distract them from.

Pausing mid-throw, Blade turns toward me. “Ana is important to this demon, somehow. I need to ask her some questions.” He glances toward her door. “When she’s stronger.”

The heartbreak in Blade’s eyes lands like a ton of rocks on my chest.

Shit. As much as I like to claim that only Blade and Flame are at risk of developing attachments to Ana, something’s changed inside me too. I should be scolding Blade, reminding him of his training, suggesting he perform aversion drills to block his emotions, but I don’t have the heart. I’ve gone soft.

“Speaking of Ana.” Flame fires three stakes in rapid succession, each striking a different moving dummy. “She could wake any minute. And when she does, I’m going to feed her.”

“No way.” Blade shifts himself directly in front of Flame, and the latter has to redirect the stake he was about to unleash. It hits the back of one of the sofas, piercing the leather.

Flame winces.

“It should be me,” Blade says. “She’s the most comfortable with me.” He slams his fist into his chest.

“But I’m the one who’s already fed her,” Flame counters. “And the one who knows how best to fuck her. I know what she likes.”

Blade’s skin darkens, his cheeks and neck revealing what’s already obvious. He can’t handle the feelings that Ana’s aroused in him.

“Look.” I step forward. “You two have both proven you can’t be trusted when it comes to Ana.”

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