Page 132 of A Throne of Blood & Vengeance

I lost my focus, and the magic slipped from me.

Fuck. We’d all agreed that it was best to keep my abilities and Draven’s as much of a secret as possible. House Devereux wouldn’t tell anyone, and I’d have to decide if and when I wanted to tell the other Houses once Carmilla was dealt with, but with how tense things were with the Velesians and how unreliable the Furies were, it was better to keep them in the dark on this.

We’d need all the advantages we could get in case we really did go to war one day.

That was fine. I still had my daggers.

Malachi seized Cali’s moment of distraction to lunge forward, his sword aiming for Cali’s thigh, right above her weak knee.

He was fast—I was faster.

The Furie roared as my blood daggers bit into his flesh. He sensed them just in time to turn so the one I’d aimed for his throat hit his shoulder instead. And the one that had been flying towards his groin sank two inches to the left.

Pity.

His black eyes focused on me. I tugged on the magic within the daggers, and both of them tore free from his body and flew back towards me. I licked the blood off the blades. Not as tasty as my mates’, but Furie blood did pack one hell of a punch. It practically sizzled across my tongue.

I pointed one of my now-clean blades at him. “Don’t fuck with my friend, Malachi.”

“What are you going to do about it, Moroi trash?” he growled. “You seriously think you can take me on with your two little knives?”

“Of course not, silly.” I bared my fangs at him. “I’m the distraction.”

Four-hundred pounds of pissed-off lycanthrope slammed into the Furie. To his credit, Malachi didn’t panic. He just let them fall before twisting at the last second, forcing Rynn to either jump off his back or risk getting pinned beneath him—she bailed.

In an instant, Malachi was on his feet, but I was already sliding behind him. “How do you like my two little knives now?” I pushed the one at his throat in enough to draw a little blood while tapping the other one over his groin that I’d sadly missed earlier. Hard to miss at this distance though, which was something he seemed to understand because the Furie had gone perfectly still.

Cali walked over to us, her expression tight and a slight limp to her step. I dug my blades in a little deeper—both of them. Malachi didn’t seem to care. I couldn’t see his face from where I stood, but I could tell that all of his attention was on my friend.

“You ever call my friend trash again”—her hand snapped out to grip his chin—“and I’ll rip out your tongue. Now, once again, why are you here?”

“Aiofe is in the pit.” He kept his voice even, but I could have sworn I heard a hint of despair in it. Who was Aiofe? His new lover? I swear to fuck, if he came to beg Cali to help him rescue his new love, I’d slit his throat. Plan be damned.

Cali released her hold on him and took a step back, as if she needed the space between them. “Why is your little sister in that godsforsaken place?”

“Because of you and your refusal to obey.” Malachi twisted his head slightly towards me, not even caring about the blood dribbling down his neck. “Either slit my throat or get the fuck away from me.”

“I vote to slit his throat!” Kieran called out.

“Same!” Alaric and Roth chimed in.

I glanced at Cali, and she shook her head. Reluctantly, I pulled my blades away—making sure to open up some nice cuts on the way out—and stepped back. As if by magic, Draven and Vail appeared on either side of me.

Malachi instantly spun to face me, his expression filled with rage and a dagger in his hand.

“I wouldn’t,” Vail warned.

“Oh please do,” Draven purred. “I’ve always wanted to taste Furie blood.”

“Here.” I held up one of my daggers, and Draven leaned forward, his tongue darting out to lick the flat side.

“Mmm.” He took another swipe. “Tasty.”

Malachi’s mouth twisted in disgust, and he took another step towards us, only to stop when Rynn growled behind him.

“Focus, Mal,” Cali ordered, “or I’ll let my friends tear you apart, and I promise, I won’t shed a single tear over it.”

Something flickered in those glittering black eyes of his, there and gone in an instant. Regret, I thought. Maybe guilt.

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