Page 35 of The Curse of Eternity
A Little Psycho
Shock appeared to ripple across the crowd, but I didn’t waste a second to gauge their reactions. I ran, my boots squeaking against the marble floor due to the blood stuck to my soles. My exit was blocked by the crowd of undead, but I wasn’t aiming for the doors. Instead, I rushed toward the center of the ballroom where Drake stood stock still before the dais.
Another guard stepped forward, and Drake lurched into motion when its wolf’s head helmet turned toward me. Despite the shackles weighing him down, he extended his reach as far as it would go and kicked the back of the guard’s knee hard. Metal buckled, and the guard dropped to one knee.
In a lurch of motion that turned out more sloppy than I’d planned, I swung the heavy sword, intent on lopping off the guard’s head. An instant of nausea had bile rising up my esophagus, but I shoved it down and shut my eyes tight when blood sprayed from the meaty neck half-hanging off the guard’s body. The dead guard’s helmet slowly loosened from its face, falling sideways to crash onto the floor.
“Maria!” Drake’s exclamation cut through my panic, and I looked up to find another two guards moving in while thevampires all stepped backward toward the walls. The faces of the undead were a blur as I spun, dodging a spear aimed directly for my chest. Stinging pain crossed my ribs when I hadn’t moved quick enough, but I managed to turn my momentum into another strike against the second guard.
My stolen blade crashed into a broadsword of equal size and weight. The enemy might have been physically stronger, and I hadn’t eaten in days, but all that armor was its downfall. Speed was my ally, and I redirected the opponent’s blade with my own before stepping into their space.
A gauntlet reached for me, clenched for additional impact, and I dropped to a crouch. My arm ached as I pulled my sword around to slice behind their knee through the gap in metal plating. The guard stumbled back, and I dove to my left when I sensed as much as heard yet another guard approaching from behind.
Displaced air brushed the skirt of my idiotic dress, and I just barely evaded the spear now skewered into the section of flooring I’d occupied a second ago. The wooden shaft vibrated, its point embedded into the cracked marble inlay. Eyes wide, I rushed to crawl backward and away from the guards now standing side by side.
The one with the sword didn’t advance, instead waiting for their comrade to retrieve the spear. I kept backing up, holding tight to my weapon while trying to get my feet under me despite my strained muscles throbbing. A pair of cold hands grasped me beneath my arms, and I shrieked when I was hauled upright.
“Maria.” Drake’s voice soothed my terror like a balm, and I immediately stopped resisting when it registered he’d helped me up. I glanced back over my shoulder, finding his raven-dark eyes full of emotion I could only guess at—gratitude, intrigue, maybe. The briefest smile graced his lips.Damn it, this was not the time for my heart to flutter.
A clanging of chafing metal returned my attention forward. The two guards glanced from their decapitated comrade to where Lucian now sat atop the throne on the raised dais. Lucian’s otherwise bland face creased with a condescending smile as he nodded to the guards. Tearing my gaze from him, I assessed our surroundings, and paled.
My legs shook when I glimpsed the sallow white face that had been hidden beneath the dead guard’s helmet. Glassy green eyes stared unseeing toward the ceiling, and stubble coated the masculine jaw. Except he lacked the silvery sheen of the undead. Which meant the guard I’d killed must have been human.
I was going to be sick.
“You have to run,” Drake whispered into my ear, his breath moving the loose curls hanging limp against the side of my face. My hands trembled, but I gripped the sword’s hilt harder.
“Not without you,” I replied, my voice hushed while I kept my focus trained on the guards forced into becoming my enemy. Even if I did manage to escape, I doubted I’d get very far on my own. Survival was a matter of making it out together, or not at all. It seemed that sentiment was returned, because Drake’s gentle grip on my arm tightened.
The guards’ attention swiveled from their vampire overlord, and settled on me and Drake—not good. I whirled out of Drake’s grasp and angled the edge of my weapon for the keyhole on his shackles.
“They are spelled!” he tried to warn, but I’d already struck my steel through the opening. “It can rebound—”
The metal cut deep, coming away like it was made of nothing sturdier than bread, and the shackles cracked along Drake’s forearms. Clearly bewildered, Drake looked up from his freed hands. His gaze focused on mine, a mysterious emotion flitting behind his eyes, and then he looked past me.
In a blur, Drake pulled me aside by my shoulder while he stepped around me. When I turned, Drake had already grasped the armored bicep of the guard wielding the spear. Quick as the tick of a clock, he pulled. His grip on the guard tore through both metal and sinew, leaving only a tangle of shredded flesh bleeding free where the guard’s upper arm had connected to the shoulder.
My next blink slowed, adrenaline speeding everything up. The hair at the nape of my neck prickled, tugging on my awareness until my gaze connected with piercing green eyes, staring back from the candlelit corner of the ballroom. All thoughts emptied from my head when the second guard went for Drake, their broadsword aimed for my vampire’s spine.
Except Drake was faster, catching the guard’s gauntlet while thrusting his stolen spear up and through the guard’s throat. It pierced straight out the helmet’s opposite side. My brows rose when Drake expertly pulled the sword from the guard’s slackened grip only to spin it midair and catch it right-side-up.
Then his focus shifted when a growl reverberated from within another suit of armor. Adjusting his footing, Drake rotated in a semi-circle to block the next opponent’s full metal-clad body from bowling him over when they collided. I took a step forward, a strangled shriek clawing up my throat, but then I felt the air shift. All of the crashing bangs from Drake’s battle had disguised the guards approaching from behind.
I sidestepped blindly, the air swishing in the spot I’d been standing. The marble floor cracked under the pressure of a spiked mace, and I bolted forward when another weapon swung for my back. My hair nearly blinded my sight as I turned in time to block a strike from yet another broadsword. The zing of the impact reverberated up my arm. I had to back up another step to keep from losing my grip on my sword when the guard pressed in.
Ragged breaths shook my chest while two more guards advanced. The ones now lying dead must’ve only been attempting to restrain me, because these were aiming to kill. From the recesses of my mind, Johann’s advice returned in full force, his words clear as day.
Get it over with, quick and dirty, and you’ll make it out with your life.
So I stepped in, bringing my weapon up to deflect a blow from the spiked mace, my wrists burning under the pressure. Again, my speed was my only asset against these people in suits of armor. No part of my brain had the room to think about what that meant, who they were or how they got there. I had to keep moving, and dropped low to avoid the arcing broadsword aimed for my head.
My ankles cracked from the impact of my sudden crouch, and I pushed off the marble floor with the sole of my boot. I bolted up and to the right, directly behind the guard’s elbow and out of their easy reach. The next swing of my blade was clumsy, like a baseball bat since I wasn’t used to the weight, but the pointy end struck true under the guard’s armpit.
A low growl rumbled from the guard’s chest, and the other guard started for me—only to draw up short. Within their helmet, a pair of unfamiliar brown eyes creased at the corners. Movement behind me warned me to duck, and none too soon since a fucking ax the size of my torso slammed into the first guard’s back, right below where I’d punctured the chainmail.
Howled agony erupted from the guard struck by friendly fire, along with a fountain of blood that made the marble floor slick. I rushed to stand, trying to put distance between me and the new guard that had stepped up to fight. My boot slipped, and I went down hard onto my elbows while the sword tumbled from my grip.
The injured guard fell to their knees, inches from me, and the new challenger yanked their ax free of the now-concave metal armor that the first wore. I looked up, scrambling for my sword and reaching blindly. My attention snagged on the guard with the ax. The damn suit of armor was at least seven feet tall.
