“What are you doing?” Caspian whispered.
“We need information, and your bitch of an ex-girlfriend needs to stop feeding on Imen children,” I hissed. “We’re going in.”
I expected opposition, but all I got was the sound of a crossbow clicking behind me. An arrow shot past Caspian and me and lodged into the throat of one of the COs. Arrah quickly reloaded and released the second one, just as the other CO put on his red lens and spotted us.
“She was never my girlfriend,” Caspian muttered, then rushed down the alley and pulled one of the COs out of sight, dumping his poisoned body behind a large potted hydrangea-like bush.
Zane tossed the other one on top, as if he were just a ragdoll.
“They’re done for,” the daemon prince said, then smirked at me. “You’ve got spunk. I like you.”
I looked at Caspian, wearing a playful half-smile. “Just teasing,” I whispered. “But I still hate her guts.”
“By all means, then,” Caspian replied, motioning for me to go inside the house.
I opened the door slowly, followed by the others. Upon reaching the living room, I resisted the sudden urge to wretch at the sight of the gruesome scene before me.
The Imen parents were forced to kneel, while Amalia suckled on the Iman girl’s neck. The poor creature was turning pale. Her mother and father were still and stone-faced, their eyes blank and glassy.
“You know, if you keep killing your food like this, you’ll wipe out the whole pantry by winter,” I said, gritting my teeth as I stepped into the living room.
Amalia froze, then looked up, visibly confused. Her mouth and chin were covered in blood, further pushing my boundaries. I was a vampire; I understood feeding on someone for sustenance, but my species had made progress. And so had the Maras back on Calliope. Amalia and her people’s habits were absolutely disgusting—especially since she’d chosen to feed on the young daughter. She could’ve at least gone for one of the parents.
She slipped a pair of red lens glasses on her nose, then sneered at me, baring her bloody fangs.
“What a surprise,” she said, her voice annoyingly sweet for my turbulent state of mind. She beamed at the sight of Caspian standing right behind me. “Caspian, my love! You’ve come back!”
I scoffed, rolling my eyes and drawing my swords. “You must be joking,” I replied.
Amalia raised an eyebrow at the others, slightly disgusted. She completely ignored me. “Caspian, my darling, since when do you hang out with these fiends? They’re the worst of the worst.”
“Amalia, the jig’s up,” I said, drawing her attention. I pointed a sword at her. “Step away from the Iman girl and tell us where you’re keeping the swamp witch.”
She grinned, licking her lips, then slowly stood up. The Iman girl slouched to the side, unconscious, blood dripping from the open wound on her neck. Fiona rushed to her, moving around the armchair so she wouldn’t get too close to Amalia, who watched her with narrowed eyes.
Fiona applied healing potion to the Iman girl’s neck, then bit into her wrist and pushed it against her purplish lips. “Drink, sweetie. It’ll help you heal faster,” she murmured. The girl moaned and started drinking.
“I really dislike having my dinner plans foiled,” Amalia said, her tone flat.
“I really dislike seeing you, in general, and yet here we are,” I shot back. “Now, talk. Where’s Lumi?”
Amalia raised her eyebrows in surprise, then chuckled. “I see you’ve done your homework.”
“I’ve done a lot more than that since we last met,” I replied.
“Caspian, my love, you look a bit… smitten,” she said, shifting her focus to him. “I take it she’s spread her legs already?”
That set me off a little too fast. I shot forward and brought my sword down, but Amalia dodged it gracefully. She produced a long knife from the folds of her pale blue dress and tried to cut me with it.
I blocked her hit, then engaged in a double-blade attack. She whipped out a second knife, making me wonder what kind of arsenal she’d stashed in that dress of hers.
“If she takes out a catapult from under there, I’m going to be pissed,” Zane muttered.
Had I not been darting left and right, fighting Amalia, I would’ve laughed. She was good, though. I had to give her credit. Light on her feet and extremely agile, she avoided my hits and came back with twice the fury. Although she only had two long knives, she still managed to cut me.
I hissed from the pain but brought a sword down in a diagonal slash. She caught the blade with her knives crossed, then kicked me in the stomach. I grunted and slid back a couple of feet, surprised to find myself panting. She was making me do all the hard work.
“I’m going to cut you down, eventually,” I said. “Talk, Amalia, and I will spare you.”
She giggled, as if I’d just told her a great joke. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re food. I don’t talk to food,” she replied, then gave Caspian a warm smile. “My love, we used to be so close. You used to come to me every night with flowers and fresh blood. Now you’re hanging out with our meals? Honey… I miss you. Come back, and I promise I’ll have Daddy spare you.”
“You lost me the moment you chose this sick, dark path, Amalia,” Caspian replied bluntly. “And that was a very long time ago.”
Amalia processed his words, then put on a contemptuous smirk. “Always a weakling, huh? I actually thought you and I could be together. We still could, provided you grow a spine, Caspian. We could inherit this city!”
“Where’s Lumi?” Caspian hissed.
None of us had the time for her delusional nonsense. It made my heart swell three times its usual size as I heard him verbally cut into her like that. I had no reason to doubt his love for me, but I had every reason to despise her for what she’d done to him. She was as guilty as the Lords, forcing him into his blood oath and killing so many innocent creatures just to satisfy their thirst for blood and their addiction to souls.
“I would rather die than tell you anything!” Amalia snarled, finally infuriated.
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” I scoffed, then moved to attack her again.
Caspian beat me to it. He darted ahead and reached her first. She didn’t see it coming.
His blade pierced her chest in a firm, upward thrust. The tip went out through her upper back. He held her in place as she whimpered from the shock and the pain. Her eyes nearly popped out, her mouth gaping as blood poured out of her throat.
It didn’t take long for internal bleeding to wreak havoc inside her body.
“Caspian…” she breathed.
“Tell me where Lumi is,” he muttered, his eyes fixed on hers, his expression carved out of marble. His skin reddened slightly as he was discussing swamp witch issues in our presence, but he didn’t let the blood oath stop him this time.
“We could’ve been together,” she managed, both hands clutching the blade.
“Tell me where you’re keeping her!” Caspian raised his voice.
I moved closer to get a better look, hoping I might offer Amalia a chance at pain relief in return for information. Caspian’s sword wasn’t going to kill her, but it was causing her sheer agony—which she struggled to keep to herself.
“I told you… I would… rather die!”
“Tell me!” Caspian snarled, valiantly ignoring his burns.
I froze, noticing a gold glimmer in his jade eyes. Was he trying to mind-bend her? It wouldn’t work on another Mara—but then I saw her expression change. The pain went away, and blankness took over.
“Oh, wow,” I muttered, utterly shocked, my gaze darting between Amalia and Caspian.
“Tell me where they’re keeping Lumi.” Caspian repeated his request, this time his voice lower, a little off, even. Different.
“She’s in the Palisade Building,” Amalia said. “I don’t know what room, but that’s where they’re keeping her.”
Caspian gasped, surprised by his own ability. His burns healed q
uickly. He pulled his sword out and stepped back, blinking rapidly as he tried to figure out what was going on. I recognized the confusion. I’d once been like that, unsure of my own power, asking myself “Did I just do that?”.
Amalia shook her head and took advantage of that sliver of regained consciousness to try to stab him, but I cut her head off in one swift and unforgiving hit. She collapsed on the hardwood floor, blood pooling beneath her.
Caspian stared at her, then at me, as Zane, Pheng-Pheng, Fiona, and Arrah came around.
“I’m sorry, Caspian,” I said softly. “I had to kill her. You know that, right?”
“She’s been dead to me for years,” he replied, though I could feel his sadness. It was the kind of dull pain one felt when losing an old friend—the one he hadn’t seen in years, hoping she’d turned her life around and saddened to see she’d only gotten worse, in a way. Only in this case, he’d watched her decay, unable to stop her.
“What the hell just happened?” Fiona breathed, staring at Caspian. “How’d you get her to tell you? She was ready to die for it!”
“Mind-bending doesn’t work on Maras,” Caspian replied, genuinely in awe of himself. He shook his head slowly, then looked at me. “How did I do that?”
I offered him a warm and reassuring smile. “I don’t think that was your mind-bending,” I said. “I think that was your inner-sentry manifesting. Mind control.”
He was even more confused, as were the others. “Sentry mind control doesn’t work on Maras,” he muttered, frowning.
“Maybe it works because you’re a Mara, yourself,” I said, shrugging. “It’s literally the only explanation I have. This… This has no precedent whatsoever.”
Fiona chuckled softly. “I take it you two took your relationship to the next level.”
My face burned. Caspian put on a childish smile that didn’t help either.
Zane laughed lightly, then pointed at the Imen.
“All this aside, you might want to mind-bend these critters into cleaning this mess up and forgetting what they saw,” he said. “Lord Obara will want answers and heads to roll.”
It hit me then—the gravity of what we’d just done. My blood ran cold. Amalia had obviously deserved it, but I’d nearly forgotten whose daughter she was. Emilian was going to have our heads, if given the chance.
“Actually, I think we need to hide her body, too,” I murmured. “If anyone finds her while we’re still in town, there will be a riot.”
Zane nodded, then dragged Amalia out of sight and into one of the nearby rooms, collecting her head along the way. His self-control and lack of squeamishness were downright impressive. I was still training my stomach to control its impulses, despite the number of kills I’d accumulated on Neraka.
Taking a life was never easy.
Caspian looked at me. “I know where the Palisade is,” he said. “We should go,” he added, then turned and mind-bent the Iman family into cleaning all the blood from the floor, staying out of the room where Zane had stashed Amalia’s body, and forgetting we were ever there.
Zane came back, hands on his hips and smiling like a kid on a school trip.
“Okay, ready to go?” he asked, weirdly serene.
“You’re enjoying this a little too much, don’t you think?” Fiona remarked, raising an eyebrow.
“Took the words right out of my mouth,” I muttered.
Zane grinned. “I’ve been rooting for this day for a while now,” he replied with an innocent shrug. “I’ve seen Amalia before, and I get the feeling you ladies thought this was the worst thing she’s ever done. Let me tell you, though, it’s not. Losing her head was an easy way out for…” He feigned her feminine, ladylike voice and speaking mannerisms. “Amalia, future Lady of House Obara.”
Caspian scoffed, the corner of his mouth twitching.
“Judging by the look on your face, I’ll go ahead and assume Zane’s right,” I said to him.
He gave me a weak smile and a single blink, then motioned for the door. “Let’s go. Time’s not on our side.”
He went out first, and we followed.
The alley was dark and quiet as we made our way through the back streets of the sixth level and headed for the Palisade. We didn’t know what floor Lumi was on or what room she was in, but we knew the building. It was a great start.
One step closer to our freedom.
Caia
We kept a close but safe distance from Nevis, Neha, and Colton as they snuck up to the top level of Azure Heights. They’d only ingested a small amount of invisibility paste, enough to keep them covered until they entered Emilian’s mansion through the back door.
The seventh level was secured with at least twenty Correction Officers outside. One in five was wearing a red lens. It took additional efforts to get past them undetected, but we managed to follow Nevis and the others into the mansion.
There was a dinner party taking place on the ground floor, with maybe a dozen attendees. We waited in a secluded area of the service kitchen, until Nevis, Colton, and Neha’s invisibility spells wore off. It only took about five minutes, during which time Colton knocked out any Imen coming in to retrieve more crystal glasses for the Exiled Maras’ dinner.
We could hear them talking and laughing in the dining room. Once they were visible again, our allies walked right in. Nevis had no time for pleasantries with the attending Correction Officers, encasing them in Dhaxanian frost and leaving them to slowly suffocate until they were left unconscious.
Blaze and I kept to the side, behind a decorative panel made of colored gems mounted on a copper-like structure. The scene we witnessed made my stomach turn itself inside out. The Lords and their guests were feeding off live Imen, who were mind-bent into submission.
Emilian was busy consuming the soul of an Iman elder, the bright white wisps escaping from an open neck wound and slipping between the Mara Lord’s lips.
Everyone stilled at the sight of Nevis, who put on a grimace of disgust.
“Good grief, you Maras are loathsome,” he muttered.
The remaining Correction Officers lunged at him, but Neha and Colton were quick to disable them. Neha was unbelievably fast, her tail stinging left and right until ten COs had collapsed on the floor. Colton used a crossbow loaded with poison-tipped arrows to take down the other five.
In a matter of seconds, Emilian, Rowan, Farrah, Rewa, and three other Maras were left speechless, stunned as they stared at Nevis. Their Imen subjects were catatonic, slumped on the floor, slowly bleeding out. I wanted to help, but Blaze gripped my wrist firmly, as if making sure I didn’t go off on my own. I couldn’t blame him, and I knew he sympathized with my discomfort at this point. We both wanted to help, but the lives of five Imen were going to be wasted anyway if we revealed ourselves and hindered the mission.
There wasn’t enough GASP training in the world to prepare me for what we’d seen and experienced on Neraka so far. I was still adjusting.
“What are you doing here?” Emilian asked, his tone flat and his brow furrowed. “What are you all doing here?”
“The better question to ask is who your friends are, Nevis?” Rowan chimed in, narrowing her eyes at Neha and Colton. “I smell a filthy dog and a Manticore. I didn’t know the bugs still lived outside the daemon prisons.”
Neha smirked, but allowed Nevis to take the lead.
“Relax, we’re here to talk,” the Dhaxanian prince replied.
Emilian scoffed and pulled the linen tablecloth off, revealing a swamp witch symbol. He muttered a spell under his breath but failed to touch the symbol, as Nevis shot out a pellet of Dhaxanian ice and covered the entire table section, making it impossible for Emilian to complete his spell.
“Don’t be foolish,” Nevis said. “Just hear me out.”
“Why? After the stunts you pulled against Shaytan’s people?” Emilian spat, obviously infuriated. “I heard about your shenanigans, Nevis! Not nice!”
“First of all, you will address me as ‘Your Grace’,
” Nevis shot back, his tone sending chills down my spine. “I’ve been nothing but respectful to you, and whatever issues I may have with Shaytan, they’re between me and him, and do not concern you. Second, I’ve got a problem with the outsiders,” he added.
“Oh, really? After you kept them away from Shaytan’s soldiers?” Farrah scoffed, crossing her arms.
Nevis raised an eyebrow at her. “Milady, if you don’t know the full story, you should keep that beautiful mouth shut before I freeze it. I doubt you look good with purple lips,” he said, then shifted his focus back to Emilian. “Now, don’t get all riled up. You’ll pop a vein. Yes, I helped the outsiders, but I did it with a purpose. I wanted to find out exactly what they were up to. I’ll admit, I was intrigued at first, but I sincerely doubt they’ll be able to pull it off.”
Emilian’s interest was piqued. “What are they trying to pull off?”
“I thought you were smarter than this, Emilian,” Nevis replied with a dry chuckle. “Obviously, they’re after the swamp witch. They were able to put two and two together. They know she’s here, in the city.”
Emilian and the other Maras exchanged nervous glances.
“Point is,” Neha interjected, “we’d rather fortify our alliance with you than help the outsiders. They are doomed to fail. They lack the numbers, and we’re done getting our people killed to oppose you and the daemons.”
“We’d like to propose a new alliance,” Nevis added.
“And what alliance is that?” Rewa asked, pursing her lips.
She was as obnoxious as ever—even more so now, as she tried to look and sound like her father. She reminded me of an evil fairytale queen, wearing an all-black dress with gold embroidery on the sleeves. It also covered her head, on which she’d mounted a delicate gold crown. It was overkill, in my opinion. It made her look like an evil nun of sorts.
“There are Adlets and Manticores willing to sign a truce, along with the Dhaxanians,” Nevis replied. “All we want is a couple of territories. We’ll give you a number of our younglings, once a year, for you to feed on. We’re willing to sacrifice a few for the good of the many. In return, we’ll help you defeat the outsiders before they get anywhere near the witch.”
A Snare of Vengeance Page 20