Page 62 of The Assassin and the Libertine
“When who found you?” I asked.
Henri ignored me, focusing on Daphne. “You did this to me, wife, but it’s not half of what I’m going to do to you.” Henri raised his hand in the air and to my horror, Daphne choked a constricted scream. Her body lifted from the ground and she clawed at her throat, losing her breath with every gasp. Henri cackled and watched her feet kick and twist midair.
Without thinking, I hurled myself at him, fangs extended, face already contorting into something monstrous. Henri saw my attack and sidestepped, but my shoulder caught him in the chest and we both went down. I heard Daphne fall to the ground and suck in air and I knew I’d temporarily hit my mark. Henri growled and shoved me with the force of ten men, throwingme into the wooden crates in the corner. I staggered up just in time to see him lunging for Daphne. With supernatural speed, I threw myself at him again, driving him against the stone wall. He grunted with the impact but recovered quickly, wrapping his hand around my throat. His grip tightened and I started to choke.
“Father Clarence!” Daphne shouted. “Help us bind the demon!”
Henri sliced his other hand through the air and Daphne shrieked and staggered back as if she’d been backhanded. Darkness began to encroach on me as I lost the ability to breathe, but as my world began to slip away, I was dimly aware of another presence joining the fray. Another man stepped out from the top of the stairwell.
“Philippe!” Daphne called. “Oh, thank God. Philippe, the demon—he has Charlotte!”
Henri tipped his face up toward Philippe and grinned savagely. When he spoke his voice lost the low, aristocratic drawl and reverted to the raspy, guttural demon tone. “At last, you’re here!” he hissed with glee. “Master.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
DAPHNE
October 31, 1765
Rue des Oubliés
Master.
Henri had called Philippemaster.Had I misheard him?
“Daphne! Are you all right?” Philippe bounded down the stairs, his eyes never leaving my face. He was still wearing his Apollo costume, minus the mask and lyre. His thin, blonde hair had come out of its queue and hung limply about his face.I must have misheard.There was no way Philippe was…
He reached me and grasped my shoulders. This close, I saw lines of rough scratches across his face and a cut on his lip.
“Daphne, you’re certain you’re uninjured? He hasn’t hurt you?”
“No, I’m fine,” I started, confusion preventing the pieces from coming together. “What happened to your face? Was it Henri—Asmoday? What…what are you doing here, Philippe?”
He touched the red mark on my throat from Henri’s earlier attack and frowned.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” Philippe murmured, but it wasn’t directed at me. He whirled around, teeth bared at Henri, who still held Étienne by the throat. I could see his eyes rolling back in his head—he was about to black out. “She wasn’t supposed to be harmed!”
A look of cold resolve crossed Henri’s face. When he replied, it wasn’t in Henri’s voice—it was the hellish growl of Asmoday.
“She was uncooperative,” he said.
Uncooperative?What the Hell was going on? I looked around. Father Clarence was cowering behind the smashed wooden crates. I didn’t think Philippe had even seen him.
“Daphne, my love, do not worry. We’ll have this sorted out in no time.” Philippe smiled at me and I wondered if there was a touch of madness in it.My love?
“What shall I do with the vampire?” Henri asked. Étienne was clawing at his hand, leaving deep, bloody gashes all up his arm. Henri did not seem to notice.
“Well, I think that depends on our lovely Daphne over here,” Philippe said in a light tone.Definitely mad.“What do you think, darling? Have you gotten him out of your system? Only I don’t want to kill him now and have him become a martyr for your affections. But I worry that if I let him live, you’ll just go on mooning after him, and wecannothave that.”
My mind worked, but nothing was making sense.
“Philippe, what the fuck are you talking about?”
He sighed and nodded to Henri, who dropped Étienne to the ground in a pile of limbs. Étienne gasped and coughed, and Henri stepped lightly on his chest, ready to bring his foot down and crush Étienne’s heart.
“This never would have happened if you’d just done what I wanted in the first place,” Philippe said. He laid a gentle hand on my cheek, but there was something tightly controlled in his eyes.
“I don’t understand.”
