Page 70 of The Curse of Eternity
“I came to steal the rings.”
Surprise surged across every vampire’s face when the realization settled in—even Drake’s—but only the unnamed one with the blood-red cape showed a flicker of fear. Sweet satisfaction filled my chest at the dawning comprehension on Lucian’s narrow face when his gaze darted from the ring to me, and then Drake. In the blink of an eye, he suddenly stood behind Drake and bent to grasp my vampire’s clenched fist.
A flash of irritation crossed Drake’s features when Lucian wrenched open his tensed fingers. The second ring fell from his grasp, but before it could drop to the floor, Lucian snatched it from thin air. Startled, I flinched when Lucian’s figure made a blurred trail to kneel in front of the vampire in gold. Before the gaudy undead leader could reach for the offered ring, the one in crimson finally spoke.
“Domn Petru…” The rest of his words were too fast to catch,damn my stupid brain!
I glanced at Drake, whocouldunderstand them, but the only reaction I could glean was the curious furrow to his brow. Petru nodded, his expression neutral when he handed the larger ring back to Lucian, who scurried over to drop it in the expectant scarred hand of the crimson-caped vampire. An instant later, and the first ring that I’d dropped joined its pair.
“Descendant of Helsing,” the vampire in silver addressed me, his curling brown locks utterly still while he spoke. “Magick has enabled your invasion thus far on the blood which ties you to ourvoievod—long rest his bartered soul.” It was tacked on, like the sentiment was rehearsed, but the insincerity of his loyalty to Dracula’s memory didn’t ease the foreboding that prickled the hairs along my arms. “So shall this becomeyourfinal resting place. Once you have been thoroughly excised for any information you possess that may be of interest.”
“What about Drake?” My fingernails pressed painfully into the cold iron of my loose shackles, and my fingers shook. “What’s going to happen to him?”
“The rebellion of an immortal is unprecedented.” Irina turned, facing her five compatriots on her left. “Aslegiuitor, I propose endless calcification.”
My eyes widened. All of Drake’s blood would have to be drained from him in order for him to calcify. How long would he be forced to go without replenishing his body’s source of blood? Horror took root in me as Drake’s jaw clenched, appearing ready for the end.
“No!” This couldn’t be happening. I couldn’t let it happen.Damn it, fortress, give mesomethingto work with!“You can’t—” Staring down the most influential vampires on Earth, I struggled to come up with anything I could use. “I’ll never tell you anything if you hurt him!”
Pain licked across my cheekbone, reverberating into my jaw the instant after Lucian’s fist blurred at the corner of my eye. Even if I’d seen it coming, I wouldn’t have been able to deflect. A stinging itch radiated down my neck, and I took a shallow breath. With my ears ringing, I glared up at the monstrous bastard as he straightened his embroidered vest.
“How I have longed to do that,” Lucian muttered, his words strictly for my benefit considering his thick English. The Domnitori member in black spoke then, and by his cruel smirk, it wasn’t in my favor. Drake’s shackles rattled, drawing my attention to where dark blood ran from his forearms while he’d thrashed his skin through to the bone against the metal.
“Te voi ucide,” he spat, seething with every precise pronunciation of each word.
None of the Domnitori showed concern, their cold exteriors unimpressed. All, except the one in crimson. Irina, Milica, Petru, Nikolai… The vampire in silver remained nameless, but hisdetached, shrewd gaze made beads of sweat roll down my neck. Something unsaid thickened in the stale air, smelling of death.
I itched for my machete, still in the grasp of the guard standing at ease to my left. Petru spoke softly, seemingly addressing his ruling party. They each stood so fast that I straightened up instantly, ready for them to advance on us, but then they left, one after another in a line. They didn’t seem to be rushing, but they also weren’t trying to conceal their supernatural speed.
My neck craned to follow the crimson one’s exit, the rings somewhere on his person, but then he disappeared around the corner where the gargoyles stood guard over nothing and no one. Besides Drake, the only vampire that remained was Lucian. His satisfied sneer was accompanied by a parting line, but I had no clue what he said to Drake, his tone full of thinly-concealed excitement over our predicament.
Really, if I survived this, I was going to have to brush up on Romanian.
As luck would have it, Lucian strode down the long rug after the Domnitori. His departure from the throne room was quick, not having glanced at me once, like I was beneath his notice now. Left alone in the circular space with only the guards and the old sorceress, I did my best to take short breaths to disguise my fast heartbeat.
Whatever they’d planned next had reignited the terror behind Drake’s eyes, but when his gaze met mine, his confusion at my calm shifted to understanding. Before the sorceress could raise her hand more than a fraction of an inch, Drake resumed thrashing in his restraints. Two of the guards who’d been standing over him jumped into action to hold him down, but Drake got his leg out from under him. His powerful kick caved in the armored chest of the nearest guard.
More guards rushed in, their attention entirely on Drake. The lycan on my left sheathed my machete using the belt around their breastplate, and reached to grasp their ax with both gauntlets, probably intending to cut off Drake’s legs if they had to.
They wouldn’t get that far.
Waiting as long as I could—to make sure the Domnitori and Lucian would be far enough away to keep out of earshot—I let go of my restraints. Relief poured through my aching fingers, doubled when I finally scratched that damned itch and reached for the handle of my machete. It pulled free from the guard’s belt before the thud of my shackles hit the rug, but I didn’t take my first shot at the guards.
Memories of being made helpless by Ezra’s magick quickened my strides across the carpet toward the old crone, whose thin, wispy white eyebrows puckered with confusion. Her vision was obscured by the cataracts, but she clearly sensed my intent for ‘first kill.’ When she raised her hands, I slammed the sharpened edge of my blade down over the thin skin of her forearms. Human blood poured from the dismembered wrist, and the sorceress’s mouth opened to form a chord of terror.
Except my blade was shoved through her throat before she could release a note. Utilizing the momentum of my thrust, I spun, and swung my blade across instead of pulling it out straight—just like Johann had taught me. It worsened the damage, and the old crone’s head was hanging by half her neck by the time she dropped. Blood flowed over the steps to the thrones, and I kicked the sorceress’s corpse down them with a booted foot.
The guards seemed stunned, whether by my newfound freedom or how quickly I’d killed someone, I didn’t know. Everything at the edges of my vision was hazy, but I wouldn’t let the shivering fear sink in. Weapon readied, I jumped over thebody soaking in a puddle of blood, and landed in front of my own warden.
The lycan in armor had to back up to attempt a swing at me with their ax. Twisting the handle of my machete, I shoved the point upward using both hands and hooked my blade under the helmet before thrusting. Squelching accompanied baritone gurgles, blood streamed downward, and I withdrew my blade to face the five remaining guards.
Three surrounded Drake, still trying to subdue him while he twisted this way and that under the grasp of two. The third angled the point of their spear over his heart. Swallowing a scream, I moved in. The last two guards had stood unsure between measuring the danger I posed and helping the other three with Drake, but my action spurred theirs.
Almost too fast, they advanced to get between me and Drake. The whisper of a warning in the back of my mind made me duck at the last moment. A broadsword swung over my head, narrowly brushing the hair at the crown of my skull, and I had to roll aside to avoid the blunt impact of a mace hitting the rug where I’d been a moment ago.
When I jumped back up to my feet, I rushed to parry another swing from the broadsword, trying to force me farther from Drake. Their blade struck mine, and a shout tore through my throat as Ipushed. Never would I have been able to overpower all of that bulk, but something in the very air of this place strengthened the fibers in my bones.
Especially once I accepted it as mine to wield.
