by Lili Zander
Ice fills Ragnar’s face. “So Gerra is at it again.”
“You know?” I stare at him, absolutely outraged. “You know what she does on Banrilia, and you’ve let it happen?”
“I didn’t know,” he replies, an edge in his voice. “There is a long-standing peace pact between Family Clay and Family Thorsson, dating back to the time of Empress Chela’s abdication. In accordance with it, I don’t have spies in the Chipwa Sector.”
Oh. Okay. Didn’t know that.
“Zeke’s going to message you for help. Return the children to their homes. If they don’t have homes left, find them new ones. Good ones, where they’ll be loved. Get them the help they need.”
“And you’ll sleep with me?” He shakes his head. “I don’t want to start a relationship with you on a lie, Raven. I would have done it anyway. You don’t have to buy my cooperation with your body.”
“I’m not done.”
He inclines his head and waits for me to continue.
The rage that’s been simmering in me ever since I set foot on the Ruby Rose boils over. Banrilia is an abomination, protected only because its patron is on the Ruling Council. “I want Gerra Clay dead. Kill her for me, and if the other vampires consent to it, I’ll undo my braids for you.”
I don’t expect him to agree. There is a long-standing peace agreement between the two families, after all; Ragnar told me about it less than five minutes ago. And Gerra Clay is powerful.
His green-gray eyes gleam. “We have a deal, little bird.”
I freeze in shock. I feel like I’ve done something momentous and unalterable. Then I remember the children in the hold of the Ruby Rose. They were just babies, really. Babies who deserved to live in peace and happiness. Instead, they’d been en-route to a planet where they would be preyed on by vampires desperate to extend their lives.
My misgivings drain away. Gerra Clay deserves to die.
I finish drawing blood and pull the needle out. Ragnar takes both syringes and gives me the box in exchange. He gets to his feet and holds out his hand to me. “By now, Nero’s made his way back to the ship. Saber, Zeke, and Nero are going to tear Antaras Seven apart to look for you. Why don’t we get you back before that happens?”
He escorts me to the door. The same five humans that brought me here are waiting in an adjacent room. “Take her back to the Valiant,” Ragnar instructs them. “Don’t drug her again.” He turns back to me. “Tell Saber that I’m very irritated that he stole my ship.” His teeth flash in a grin. “Despite that, the job offer is still open.”
“What job offer?”
He laughs, low and soft. “Ask Saber.” He takes my hand, turns my palm face up, and brushes a kiss across it. My skin tingles at the point of contact. “I’ll be seeing you around, little bird.”
I don’t have time to wonder at the impact of his touch. There’s a crash. The apartment door flies open, and six sword-clad vampires pour into the room. Their gazes move over me, and then they land on Ragnar. “There he is,” the woman in the lead says. “We have our instructions. Kill the prince.”
11
Ragnar
Kill the prince.
They’re vampires, and they recognize me, and they still want to kill me. That narrows it down somewhat. There’s only a handful of people in the Shayde Empire that will risk doing something so foolish.
Gregory freezes. He doesn’t want to retreat from the fight. He wants to stay and protect me. “Go,” I snarl. “Take her back.” Raven’s life is far more valuable than mine. If something were to happen to me here, I can count on Saber to act against Levitan. But to do that, we need Raven alive. She carries Levitan’s virus in her blood. She is the key to formulating a cure. If she dies, hope is lost.
He instantly snaps out of his hesitation. “Yes, my prince.” He pulls out his gun and starts moving Raven toward the back exit. “Akim, Yanos, with me. Jun, Robert, guard the prince.”
We’re in a narrow passageway. I’m at one end of the hallway; the assassins are at the other. They hurtle toward me. As they run, they flick their knives.
One blade thuds into the wall. The other slices my shoulder. I ignore the cut and wrench the knife out of the plaster. I hadn’t wanted to intimidate Raven, but of all the bloody days to be unarmed…
Jun and Robert throw themselves in front of me. In one fluid motion, they lift their guns and fire.
Two vampires go down.
The woman behind them barely breaks her stride. She grabs the body of her fallen comrade and throws it at Jun. She crashes to the ground, hitting her head against the wall. A split-second later, the attacker flicks off another throwing knife, this time aimed at Robert.
It makes contact. Robert makes an ‘oof’ of pain and crumples to the ground. Blood pools around the knife in his chest. It’s a mortal wound.
One of my best, most loyal soldiers dies with a surprised look on his face.
This wasn’t supposed to be a dangerous mission.
Blood fills my eyes. It never goes away. I learned that the moment my parents died, and power painted a giant target on my back. Twenty-one years later, the assassins still come in relentless waves, each one of them ready to destabilize the Empire for whatever petty gain they think they’ll get.
People wonder why I don’t have a bô. This is why. Astrid and I were born to this; we cannot escape. But what kind of man would I be if I dragged someone into this life? Nobody deserves this.
Cold, hard, anger crystallizes in my gut.
“You want me?” I hold the knife in my hand. Four vampires against the two of us. Better odds than before. They’re not amateurs. If they kill me, they’ll search the room. They’ll find the syringes filled with Raven’s blood. And once they discover what it contains…
Her blood is a weapon that cannot fall into the wrong hands.
I stand in the doorway. They can’t all rush me at once. “Come get me.”
The woman who killed Robert lunges at me, a blade glittering wickedly in her right hand. She throws her weight into her stroke, aiming for my stomach.
Too fast, too close. She would have been better off throwing the knife. She’s left herself open. I push back against her torso, blocking the attack. Lowering into a crouch, I lock my arms around her knife-wielding arm and flip her over my shoulder. She flies through the air and crashes into the wall, her neck at an awkward angle. I hear it snap.
She’s dead.
Jun regains consciousness. She shakes her head to clear it, reaching for her weapon at the same time. She fires off a short burst at the vampire in front of her. Her aim, even when she’s almost certainly concussed, is true. The vampire’s face explodes, and warm blood and pieces of brain splatter against the wall.
Once upon a time, seeing a man die used to make me throw up. Those days are long gone.
There’s just two of them now, facing up against two of us. We’re more than evenly matched at this stage. Jun is highly trained, and she has rage on her side. Robert was her partner. In time, the anger will be replaced by grief, but right now, Jun advances toward the nearest vampire, fury radiating off her body.
She can take care of herself. I transfer my attention to my own assailant. “Thought this would be easy, did you?” I ask him conversationally. “You thought you could walk in here, six vampires against five humans, and you thought that was enough.” I shake my head mockingly. “You shouldn’t have underestimated the humans. Every single person who works for me has earned their right to be here.” I let my rage build. “I liked Robert. He was a good, decent person who deserved better than to be cut down by slime such as yourself. So now, I’m going to kill you. And because I’m very angry, it’s going to be slow, and it’s going to be painful. You, my friend, are going to become an object lesson.”
His eyes go feral, and he lunges at me with wild slashes. Perfect. The blade slices into my left arm, just below my elbow. I ignore the pain and block his next stroke. His moves are erratic, but fuck, he’s fast, and he’s heavy,
and he’s unpredictable.
His knife cuts my right forearm. Okay, this is getting ridiculous. I need to put an end to this now. I close in on him, bringing my knee up to his groin. I land several short, brutal kicks, but it barely slows him down. He keeps coming, keeps slashing at me.
The blade glistens blue. Narzis, probably. A variant of the same poison that my soldiers used to incapacitate Raven. It’s slowing me down, making the air thick and heavy. My arms feel numb…
The knife bites the air, inches from my eye. I dance backward, clamp my hands around his wrist, and twist. The bone shatters, and the knife drops to the ground. I kick it out of reach, wrap my arm around his neck, and squeeze.
He doesn’t die easily. He fights for his life. He kicks and scratches. His elbow lands painful jabs into my gut, over and over again. I ignore the pain and hold on. His movements slow, his face turns red…
And then it’s over.
Jun’s disposed of her attacker. She’s sitting on the floor, Robert’s head cradled in her lap. Tears roll down her cheeks.
Fuck.
I should have fired them the moment I found out they were together. Everyone who serves with me is a loner. Working for me is dangerous. It’s not meant for families, for people in love, for people that have something to live for.
I swallow the lump in my throat. As much as I want to close my eyes and shut out the grief on Jun’s face as she cradles her dead lover, I can’t. Robert worked for me. I am responsible for his death, and I will make it right. I will hunt down the person responsible, and make them sorry for the day they decided to stand against me.
The first vampire Robert shot is still alive. Good. His breathing is labored, and his eyes are bleary, but he’s awake, and that’s all I need. I crouch next to him, ignoring the narzis in my blood. I’ll take the neutralizer as soon as I’m done questioning this man. “Who sent you?”
“Go to hell,” he spits. “You can't make me talk.”
“That's where you're wrong.” I bare my teeth in a smile. “You will talk, one way or the other.”
His eyes are fixed on the blade in my hand. He’s prepared for torture. He probably has an implanted pain monitor that will kill him if he’s at the point of breaking. I’ll need to approach this a different way.
The virus.
I pick up one of the syringes. Making sure the soldier can see me, I let a drop of Raven’s blood fall on my knife. I walk back to the man. “A demonstration, if you will.” I plunge the knife into the dead body of the vampire next to him.
Harek isn’t stupid. He doesn’t really want to kill billions of people in his quest for power. The more awful the death is, the quicker people will yield. I saw the bodies in his laboratory. Those vampires died in agony.
This should be showy and gruesome.
It is. Boils begin to form on the dead man’s skin. They grow, each reaching the size of my fist before they burst. Greenish liquid seeps from the sores onto the ground, and the smell turns my stomach. The vampire’s skin falls apart. His insides turn to mush; his bones start to liquefy.
What the fuck has Harek created? Even for him, this is reckless.
The boils burst open less than a minute after I plunged the tainted blade into the man’s bloodstream.
It’s so fast. What if we can’t create a cure for this? What if we can’t stop the spread of this disease?
I push back the fear and drag my focus back to the interrogation. “One drop is all it takes.” Jun is still holding Robert, and I’m not minded to be merciful. “Here are your choices. Tell me what I need to know, and I will grant you a quick death. Don’t talk and I will torture you, and then I’ll use the blade on you. I will watch you die in agony, and I will feel nothing. Do you understand me?”
The man is a professional soldier. Torture, he can take. But this weapon of Levitan’s turns him into a white-faced mess. “I don’t know who hired us,” he blurts out, never taking his eyes off my knife. “We were paid anonymously. Only Mala knew the identity of the person who hired us.” He nods in the direction of the first soldier who attacked me.
Mala has a broken neck and cannot talk. Damn it.
I lift my knife. “Wait,” the man screams. “There's one more thing. The payment came through the Chipwa Sector.”
Ice-cold satisfaction drenches me. Two members of the Ruling Council are from the Chipwa Sector. Gerra Clay and Patrik Kevis. Nothing happens in their territory without one of them knowing about it.
So which one sent the assassins? Gerra or Patrik?
“Put that blade down.” Jun’s voice is dull and lifeless. “You’re bleeding. You can’t risk contamination.”
Oh. Right. I let the blade drop to the floor, glad that one of us is thinking clearly. The assassin is looking at me with pain-filled eyes. “Kill him,” I tell Jun. “Make it quick.”
I don’t watch. Turning away, I find my comm and call Tomas. “I need intel. Assassins were sent to kill me on Antaras Seven. They were sent by either Gerra Clay or by Patrik Revis. Find out which one.”
“It could be both.”
The narzis is making me stupid. Of course, Tomas is right. Neither Gerra nor Patrik has dared to take me on alone. But together…
I take the neutralizer and attend to my cuts. “They’re monitored on Starra. If they’re plotting, it wouldn’t be there.”
“Hmm.” He searches through information. “If you’re looking for evidence of their treachery, it’s not going to be easy to find. They’re not going to record their conversation for you to listen to.”
“That hadn’t struck me,” I say dryly, slapping a bandage over the cut on my forearm. “I don’t need something that’ll stand up in front of the Council. I just need to know which of them to kill.”
“Ah.” His expression brightens. “Look at this.” He expands the cube in front of me. “We monitor Gerra Clay’s comm, of course, and Patrik Kevis’ as well. Their comms are never switched off.”
“Not a surprise; neither is mine. Where are you going with this?”
Tomas gives me an impatient look. “Three weeks ago, both their comms were switched off at the same time.”
“Where were they supposed to be?”
“Gerra Clay was scheduled to be at a Family meeting on Banaras.”
Her home planet. One of the few places I don’t have any eyes. “They’ll lie for her.”
“Yes.” He scrolls through the screen. “Patrik Kevis was signed up to address a merchant trade association meeting on Forion Nine, but he didn’t show up. His son attended instead. According to his aides, he was sick.”
There it is. Saber’s right about one thing. I am ruthless. This is all I need to act.
“Thanks. I have to go.” I hang up on Tomas and move over to Jun. “I’m sorry. This is my fault.”
“We knew the dangers when we signed up, my Prince.” Jun’s reply is automatic; her loyalty is deeply ingrained. Even now, cradling the body of her partner, she doesn’t have a word of blame for me. “You didn’t kill Robert.”
They came for me, and because of that, Robert died. I look down at the red-haired man. He was quick to anger, quick to forgive. Always had a joke ready when we needed one. I crouch next to Jun. “We got drunk on Starra once, Robert and I.”
A ghost of a smile appears on Jun’s face. “That doesn’t surprise me.”
“We were both undercover, of course. So the evening progresses, and someone calls for a song, and Robert, being Robert, decides to oblige.”
Jun barks a laugh. “The man couldn’t hold a tune, and yet, he’d insist on singing.” She gives me a sidelong look. “He proposed to me in song.”
I clench my eyes shut. “You were to be bonded.”
“We should have told you,” Jun sighs. “Robert had his eye on a bar in the capital. Another couple of years, and we would have saved enough to buy it.”
Footsteps sound. Both Jun and I reach for our weapons, but it’s just Gregory, Yanos, and Akim. They enter and take a look at the sce
ne, and sorrow flashes across Gregory’s face. “The woman has been returned to her companions.”
At least that went right.
I get to my feet. “Whatever you need for funeral arrangements, I will take care of it. You want to buy the bar, let me know, and it will be yours.”
Jun shakes her head. “If you’re going to take out Kevis and Clay, I want to be there. I want to fight.”
She should let herself grieve. So should I. But we’re in a war, the same war I’ve been in for twenty-one years, ever since my tutor tried to kill me. There’s no time for grief.
My comm chirps. It’s Astrid. “Now is not a good time.”
Her face is serious. “For you and me both,” she says. “I just came from a Ruling Council meeting. Patrik Kevis brought forth a motion to stop the clean-up of the Uncharted Reaches. He said, and I quote: ‘We are vampires. Humans are food. They are not our allies, and they are not our concern.’”
That’s what this is about. Patrik is about as virulently anti-human as it gets, and Gerra is the kind of scum that eats children. Today’s assassination attempt wasn’t a bid to move up the ladder of power. No, it was an attempt to derail Astrid’s reforms. “Did the motion pass?”
“No. Levitan voted for me, as did Bela Karinsky and Kaleb Nedwa.”
My eyes narrow. Levitan isn’t in favor of this war either. Why didn’t he use this opportunity to stop it? “That’s surprising.”
“Not really.” Astrid’s expression is grim. “If he votes against the clean-up, his vote goes on the record. It’s much better that I fail on my own.”
Ice prickles up my spine. “What did he do?”
“Nothing I can prove,” she replies. “But the boarium meant to power our fleet keeps going missing. I have warships but no fuel, and nobody can figure out where it goes.” She leans forward. “If word leaks, the public will clamor for Levitan to take over. The Council, even Bela and Kaleb, will vote to strip me of my powers. Ragnar, this isn’t good.”
No. She’s right. This is a catastrophe.