Page 88 of Silverproof Damsel

Both men slowly shook their heads, forcing me to send the flames closer to where they stood, fear trickling from their pores. Their fear fed me power, adding to the fire burning through my system.

“I won’t ask you again. You can stay here and burn, or you can move toward the exit. Choose.” Flames burst from every exit other than the one I corralled them toward. The one I sensed Rhys and his brothers, along with my family, were nearing.

The flames dancing around their feet forced them to move to the one corridor that led outside. A sense of peace encompassed me as I followed them out of the fiery tomb. A tomb that the knights who’d been hunting me were currently being burned alive in.

I was a mother, even though Bullet wasn’t born yet. I was his or her mother. I’d kill anyone who thought to take my child from me. I’d burn them to blackened bones to protect my child. It mattered little if it tainted my soul in poisonous darkness.

I knew the moment the Van Helsing realized who’d been hidden in the hillside on the edge of town. Gasps of shock, then murderous slurs and snarls, echoed throughout the night.

Appearing through the tunnel, I assessed the rescue party. Rhys’ eyes narrowed, then slowly roved over me from head to toe. He searched for any physical sign of injury. I did the same, noting his suit was torn and destroyed as if he’d been busy fighting another enemy elsewhere.

“Remington!” Winchester called out to me.

I could hear the fear and worry in her tone, but I couldn’t look away from the azure eyes I’d once seen my future in. Now, I wasn’t sure if we had tomorrow, let alone a future together. I wanted one, but I also didn’t trust him not to break my heart again. I wouldn’t survive if he did so, and, more than likely, we both knew it, too.

“Donte Silversmith!” Mikel snarled, drawing all eyes toward him.

Hushed whispers rushed through the gathering, both of horror and confusion as Donte Silversmith, the same psychopath who’d raped and murdered Verity Van Helsing strolled out, as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

“You’re dead,” Arryn snapped, drawing a blade from the sheath on his back.

“You failed to kill me, boy. You merely covered me in dirt.”

Rhys drew his blades, which caused Donte to step back. “Run and you’ll burn, grandfather.” My voice was filled with layers of regret and hate sharpening it to a lethal point.

Donte’s existence had my siblings do a double-take. Relief from them not having known he’d survived the centuries flooded my veins.

“You won’t escape death this time, Donte,” Rhys growled, stepping in front of the pair. “Are you unharmed, Brother?”

“They both tried to kill me, brother,” he lied. “That Silversmith whore carrying your child lured me to Donte, same as her mother did to ours.”

“Is that so?” Rhys returned without removing his focus from Donte.

Donte smiled cruelly at Rhys, his icy-blue gaze cold enough to freeze a bonfire. As I watched, Rhys skillfully kept the older Silversmith in front of him, refusing to allow either of the men to sidestep around him.

“I should’ve put you down when I murdered your mother, boy,” Donte sneered, tensing as he viewed the man Rhys Van Helsing had become.

“You only picked on women back then. It appears you’ve not changed, Donte. This time, it will be the death of you. This time, you’ve fucked with the women in my life for the last time.”

“I warned you he’d come for me,” Illeron stated, as if he thought Rhys was oblivious to his intention to overthrow him. “Van Helsings never forget a slight against one of their own.”

“No. We don’t,” Nyota agreed as she slipped forward, the hilts of her blades crisscrossing over her shoulders. “Even when it’s family who’s done the slighting to us, Illeron.”

The color drained from Illeron’s face as he looked between Rhys and Nyota, both of whom were blocking any chance of escape. My throat tightened knowing what was coming. One of the two was about to end Illeron’s life.

“I’ve done nothing to warrant death at your hands, brother,” he pleaded pathetically.

I laughed coldly. “You do realize I preserved the recorders in the lab. Right?”

Illeron’s head shook with denial, his eyes turned toward me. Before I realized his intent, he lunged for me. Rhys was quicker, but with Donte summoning silver, it became chaos. From every angle, silver shot toward the gathering as Rhys’ blades scissored, removing Illeron’s head from his shoulders and preventing Nyota from carrying his death.

The hum of silver slicing through the cool evening air forced my fire to rip through it, seeking each particle of silver. A thunderous boom exploded as Rhys turned, staring at Donte, who had frozen in place. Bringing his blade up over his head, he spun, slicing through Donte’s chest and throat.

Particles of Donte slowly detached, like paper caught by fire. They drifted on embers in the space where he’d stood. A gaspexploded from the Silversmiths, their veins igniting with a silver glow.

The Van Helsing did the same, as if the curses placed were being stirred in each of us. A fiery silhouette slammed to the ground beside me, forcing me to turn and prepare to defend myself.

“At ease, my beautiful little bird,” Geoffrey whispered. “You’re even more beautiful than I imagined you’d become. Be at peace, Remington, remover of curses.”

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