Page 107 of Xantera
Once, twice. And then strong arms pull me back, holding me steady against his armor.
The other sentry’s face goes red with rage, then white with panic. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Lucan growls out a warning they can’t hear. Thrashing against the tight grip around my waist, I raise my voice to a level that hopefully reverberates past the door.
“I want to speak to the Third Guardian!” I reach for the gold knocker. “I need him!”
I didn’t realize before, but it has tiny spikes jutting out from all directions—exactly like miniature vampire fangs.
They prick my skin when I grab hold of it, the sting traveling up my arm at the surprising burst of venom that infiltrates my bloodstream. Fuck. But I clench my teeth and manage to knock again.
This time, the echo booms loud enough to vibrate the polished floor.
Yes. Someone had to have heard that. Based on the blanched face of the sentry who rips my arm away from the knocker and slaps a hand over my mouth, he’s scared one of them is going to come investigate.
“Get off of me!” I scream into his palm, kicking the sentry’s shins. Upping the theatrics.
I hope the Third Guardian is watching this play out right now on a screen. I hope every single tech servant turns their entire focus onto this scene, not the one unfolding elsewhere. Not Eleni and Claudia.
As soon as the sentry loosens his grip over my mouth, I spit, “The Third Guardian will have your head on a pike for handling me like this.”
There. Let Arad think I’m desperate for him.
Before the sentries can reply, the door cranks open with an echoing screech.
As the Seventh Guardian steps through the opening, I don’t waste time revamping my performance. Twisting, I knee one of the sentries in the balls and rake my fingernails down the other one’s arms locked around me. Both of them shout. I scream. And the Seventh Guardian looks on, clearly torn between amusement and disgust.
“What seems to be the issue?” she asks, tight lipped, when I finally fall still. Her gaze roves down my body, then up to my face. Her dark eyebrows tick up in recognition.
“This Chosen One,” one of the sentries stumbles, tightening his hold on me with a punishing grip that is surely going to leave bruises. “She insists—”
More footsteps approach from behind the Seventh Guardian, making the sentry snap his mouth shut. This time it’s the Ninth, his hair slicked back over his head, who eyes the scene with glittering interest.
“Emrys,” the Seventh says over her shoulder. “Please tell Arad his Chosen One has arrived.” She cocks an eyebrow at me. “Unless you’re looking to expand your taste?”
I cough into my fist. “Oh. No, thank you. I’m here for the Third Guardian.”
She sighs. “Very well.” Fanning her arms out in each direction, she waves the sentries off. “Back to your post.”
They release me and scramble against the doorframe, standing rigidly and staring straight ahead, leaving me in an awkward silence with the Seventh Guardian. Like all the other vampires, her presence cascades over me, thick and cloying and dangerous.
“Quite the feisty thing, aren’t you?” she says around a close-lipped smile. “I can see why he’s become fixated on you.” She tsks, crossing her arms across her chest. “So emotional, males. They never learn.”
Then she turns on her heel as Arad approaches from behind, and with my eyes now locked on his, she gets lost in my peripheral vision.
“Saskia,” he murmurs, clearly pleased. “This couldn’t wait?”
“No,” I say confidently. “It’s now or never.”
The sentries’ eyes flick toward me, and I give them a smug grin, but my victorious mood quickly sours as soon as Arad inhales through his nose. Breathing me in.
Once again, he places his cold, deadish hand against the small of my back and directs me down the hallway, unable to hear Lucan’s possessive snarl that rips through my head.
I pretend to be enamored with the Guardians’ statues, swinging my head left and right like I’ve never encountered anything so grand before in my life, like everything erected here is completely new to me.
“I commissioned these myself,” Arad says into my ear. “I’m a big supporter of the arts.”
“The flags, the statues, the paintings everywhere in the city? That’s all you?” I ask loudly. So loudly, my voice echoes, and I hope all the cameras are pointed toward me.
