by C. D. Gorri
“Silas, I…”
“Tess, if this goes wrong…”
“You first.” She laughed. “Since, you know, I talk too much.”
“We should get some things straight. Before the others get here.” I wanted to pull her up against me, bury my face in her hair, but this was more important. “Caden and I’ve worked out the logistics to this little visit, but we could hit a snag. Or two.”
I didn’t tell her that we all thought she should stay home, knowing how that suggestion would have gone over.
“Once we’re inside the palace wards, you can’t dematerialize.” I took her hand, noting how damn delicate it was. “I only ask one thing: keep close to Markus. Any sign of our scheme falling apart and he’ll get you out.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, not even believing what I was about to say. “Caden set up an escape route for you and Markus. If this falls apart, if Viktor uses his magic, I’ll get you both to safety. Then you’ll go underground.”
We’d argued over several points in the plan, but never this part. Markus and Tessa had been together their entire lives. He was smart, resourceful, and would protect her with his life. If only one of us could stay with her, Markus was the logical choice.
“Caden’s got a bolt hole in South America. He’s confident the wards will keep Viktor out.”
“Even with the blood tie between us?”
“Even with that,” I assured her, trying to look confident.
I had my doubts, but this was the best we could do on short notice. I only hoped things didn’t come to that, because if they did, we were all screwed.
“You know how I feel about this, Silas.” She rolled her eyes. “Oh, wait, no you don’t, because you left me behind four years ago to play the broody hero. Let me make myself perfectly clear. Nobody takes a risk I’m not willing to take myself. No one plays the hero, because we’re a team, and teams stick together. Understand?”
I let the “broody hero” comment slide. She was under enormous stress, and I was pretty sure she only half meant it. “Agreed.”
When Markus’s BMW and Caden’s Hummer pulled up beside us, we looked pretty much anywhere but at each other as they all unloaded.
“Listen up, Tess.” Caden pounded the hood of his ridiculous vehicle, and she did a subtle eye roll. “This thing’s armored and the glass is bulletproof. If things go wrong, you get in and get out.”
Tessa rolled her eyes again and launched into pretty much the same speech she’d just given me. Caden raised his eyebrows.
“This isn’t a social visit. We’re about to take everything away that Viktor holds dear, and anything could go wrong. If it does, swear to me you’ll let Markus get you out. I left instructions with your father. Drive straight home, and he’ll handle the rest.”
Caden and Markus exchanged a terse nod, and I trusted he’d get her out—kicking and screaming, perhaps, but to safety, where she could hate our guts for the rest of time, so long as she was alive to do it.
Our walk to the protective ward was short and quiet, all of us lost in our own thoughts, Caden and I scanning the edge of the sprawling lawn for signs of movement.
The only hint the wards existed was the faint distortion in the air, a slight shimmer, like a mirage. Past the wavy barrier lay nothing but deep, brackish brown salt grass and half-dead cypress trees.
Up ahead, Caden’s father had left us a way in—a sliver of a passage marked by what I assumed was his signature green magic, threaded through the barrier like vines.
“Anyone have any second thoughts?” I asked. “Once we go through, there’s no going back.”
Tessa, of course, was the first to answer. “Let’s do this. I mean, what more can Viktor do to me than what he has already planned?” She shuddered. “Not that I don’t take being turned into a revenant seriously, it’s just… We’ve lived in fear of him for years and years. My entire life—every single decision I make—is weighed against Viktor’s punishment. Every solstice, I throw up for days, just knowing I have to appear at the banquet, where he’ll watch my every move.”
“I didn’t know it was that bad,” I murmured, reaching out and squeezing her shoulder.
“It’s life.” She shrugged carelessly, but there was a sad futility in her next words. “It’s reality, Silas. To survive, we obey a lunatic. I’m tired of living like this. I want something better.”
She gestured toward the shimmering ward. “Which is what I’m trying to do. Buy us a better future, because I want to do more than just barely survive.”
Chapter Fourteen
Contessa
The second we passed through the wards—the process was like being drenched in ice water, but coming out dry—Caden took off running toward the distant woods.
Silas pointed us toward the sprawling castle looming at the end of the long gravel drive. The curved approach was crisscrossed by the heavy branches of ancient oaks, the gravel crunching beneath our feet as we made our way toward the building.
I’d been here before, in June for the summer solstice feast. In December for the annual Yule ball.
Never had I seen the palace so empty. For royal events, Viktor dropped the protective wards, the High Guard were stationed at full capacity, and I usually spent the night staying out of sight.
I didn’t worry about that now. This place was a ghost town.
With every step, I grew angrier with Viktor Fontaine. He wanted to subjugate me. He wanted my obedience.
Well, I’d not go quietly.
Marching toward the palace, I—silently—declared war on Viktor Carpathian. War on his relentless cruelty. War on his tyranny.
Caden jogged back into sight, murmuring in Silas’s ear. His worn fatigues were ripped, his face serious as his gaze skimmed over me and went straight to Markus.
“We’ve got revenants on the grounds. Stick tight,” Caden cautioned us. “Keep Tessa close and don’t make too much noise.”
Markus’s hand went immediately to my lower back, the familiar contact settling me. “Don’t budge from my side, and I mean it,” he said softly, his voice tighter than I’d ever heard it. “Let’s get into the building. Once we’re there, Caden and I will do the talking.”
“I guess you and I are just here to look good,” Rafael teased, sandwiching me between him and Markus, his teeth tugging my earlobe. “But seriously, Silas will get you both out of here if this goes badly.” His voice took on a serious tone I seldom heard. “You have to promise me you’ll leave,” he whispered. “The rest of us, we can take care of ourselves.”
I hid my smile. Rafael wasn’t a fighter, but then again, neither was I.
I knew the rules of the royal court better than most, knew how to maneuver my way out of most situations, present one excluded. I could flirt my way into any event, and had enough dirt on everyone to keep above the petty court scheming that dragged some females down.
But I was worthless in a fight, and suddenly, I saw myself in a completely different light.
Right now, I was their biggest liability, and despite this driving need to change my circumstances, I realized I’d miscalculated.
“You’ll be fine, Tess.” But tension telegraphed itself from Markus to me, and I wondered if it was too late to turn back. Another minute and we’d reached the barbican, a grand affair that was currently empty.
“Caden?” Silas looked around, then pulled out a gun. Did he have that on him the whole time?
“Father will be here,” Caden growled, “He must be running…”
“Salutations, son.” Renard Gauthier stepped out of the shadow of the arch and embraced his son as unease flickered through me. “Ready to make a deal with the devil?”
Caden nodded, then motioned the rest of us onward. I’d only seen Renard from afar, and he was even more formidable close up. A huge, burly man, wide-shouldered and still densely muscled, he spoke imperiously, as if his word was law.
Rumor was it he was who killed Queen Lyra all those years ago, clearing the w
ay for Viktor to take the throne. He moved with the same gait as Caden—they even shared the same dark hair and green eyes—but he lacked Caden’s easy grace. This man was a bulldozer, used to getting his way.
“Contessa.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes, and the first tingle of warning formed in the pit of my stomach. “Mon Dieu, this grand gesture is because of you, Je suppose?”
Renard glanced from me to Caden, the fleeting expression on his face so brief I almost missed it. He despised us, and the tingle turned into a flare of fear.
“Yes, my lord, I’m afraid so.” I sighed slightly, because dismay was exactly what he expected to hear, though there was no tremble in my voice. “But given we’re well into the twenty-first century, I believe it’s time for such archaic customs to change, don’t you?”
“Using the pureblood law seems like a rather backwards way to bring us into the modern age,” he countered, his tone reproachful.
“True, but one works with what one has, my lord.”
Once again, the huge man looked between Caden and I, his expression disapproving.
But we’d reached the main hall now, too far to think about turning back. Still no guards, which on the surface seemed like a good thing, but still… My skin prickled.
This wasn’t normal.
The banquet hall was to the right, but we went left, our footsteps ringing against the bare walls, Renard falling into step beside me.
I was shifting closer to Markus, hyperaware of my surroundings, the utter stillness in the air, the fact that the castle was entirely empty, and almost missed the flash as a knife dropped from Renard’s sleeve, into his hand, then swung up to my throat, moving faster than a heartbeat.
Gauthier wrenched me away from my men, pressing the point sharp into my skin, but didn’t cut me. Yet.
Rafael and Markus charged toward us, but Renard dug the knife in deeper as a warning. “Arrêtez maintenant, s’il vous plaît. We don’t want Contessa to bleed, do we, boys?” That stopped them, Markus eyeing the knife, then Renard, as if calculating the odds before he rocked back on his heels.
With a roar, Caden was fighting through the guards to reach me, but ten, twenty, maybe more materialized out of thin air, one of them only half-formed and already swinging a club down against Caden’s head.
The dull, meaty thud almost made me throw up. Rafael and Markus were being dragged apart, one guard lying motionless on the ground between them, and when I looked for Silas?
He was…gone.
We were taken into the parlor, where Viktor lounged, his feet up on the glossy table. Renard released me and took up position at Viktor’s right, his smile expectant as a solid wall of guards blocked the entrance.
“All the little traitors in one room,” Viktor crooned, cleaning his nails with a too-large knife. Overcompensating, much?
His gaze traveled over us, pausing on each of us in turn, as if he were deciding our fates.
“Merci, Seigneur Gauthier, for alerting me to this little uprising. As always, you proved there are those I can trust”—the red glow in his eyes intensified—“and those I cannot.”
Chapter Fifteen
Silas
I was supposed to be our secret weapon. Discharged only when things looked hopeless.
But between the guards, Renard’s betrayal, and the knife to Tessa’s throat, I was hard-pressed to see where things would get any more hopeless than this.
I’d promised to get Tessa out.
There were thirty guards, at least, standing between us.
I had to neutralize Viktor before he had a chance to use his death magic. The room became a labyrinth for me to navigate and clear a path to the door, hopefully lined with the guard’s dead bodies.
Behind my veil of shadow illusion, I took up position near the fireplace, where I had the best view of the room, waiting for Renard to release Tessa long enough that I could snatch her away. When he did, strolling over to take his place beside the king, I breathed a little easier.
I had to hand it him: Viktor looked every inch the ruthless king, although the enormous knife was a bit over the top. With the fire roaring behind them, his booted feet carelessly thrown up on a priceless antique desk, he was savoring this moment.
Caden and Markus were already disarmed, forced to their knees by three guards each. Rafael didn’t fight, but he watched every move, as if searching for an opening.
As for me, I’d miscalculated on so many levels.
I’d relied on obviously faulty intel. I believed Caden’s heartfelt assurances that his father could be trusted, ignoring my own reservations. But most of all, I’d been blinded by my desperation to save Tessa.
All of which was a recipe for this total clusterfuck, and I wasn’t the only one who thought so.
“You fucking bastard,” Caden roared, pushing up against the guards holding him down and making some progress. “I fucking trusted you.”
“Now, pup,” Viktor said, “you didn’t actually think your father was going to help you unseat me? Do you really believe he values the life of his youngest brat more than he values a hundred years of power?”
Tessa still hadn’t said a word. She remained on her knees staring steadily at Viktor, as though she could kill him with a look. I remained hidden behind my illusion, but I was about to drop the veil and pray I could take out enough of the guards to give Tessa and Markus a clear path out of the room.
Shadows swirled as I stepped out from behind my magic.
The two closest guards hadn’t hit the floor when I wrapped myself in magic again and disappeared, moving to the opposite corner. Another jump and two more guards were dead, Viktor swinging his head wildly around, trying to spot me.
“Fucking find him,” Viktor screamed at Renard. “He’s using illusion magic.”
“Je vois ça, sire,” Renard replied, scanning the room as if he were looking at a buffet table, not a roomful of dying guards.
I took out three more guards before I was hit with a stream of magic, my power vanishing, and then all I saw was Renard frowning down at me. His magic coiled around my throat like a noose, tightening and tightening until dark spots swam in my vision.
Another miscalculation.
The old man was an abjurist, able to thieve vampire magic as easily as he might take a human’s blood. Worse still, as an elder vampire, his strength was far superior to mine. “Stay down, half-breed,” he said. “Fighting will only make you look the fool.”
“Tut, tut.” Viktor turned his attention to Tessa. “Fornicating with half-breeds. I thought you were better than that. Perhaps I should have a word with your father?”
Fighting for breath, I kept my eyes on the knife in Viktor’s hand as he closed in on her.
“Blood always wins out, as my father says. I must agree, since you are on your knees, exactly where someone traitors should be.” His hand tightened around the hilt of the knife, and Renard’s noose tightened around my throat, holding me still.
Forcing me to watch.
The king had almost reached Tessa when someone rapped on the door. Renard went to open it while Viktor paused in front of a still-kneeling Tessa, her brown eyes throwing off flares of light brighter than the sun.
“What do you have to say for yourself, Tessa?” he said. “I must admit, I’m a bit surprised. Usually, my intimidation tactics don’t initiate an uprising.” He looked us over, seemed to count heads. “A small uprising, but a crime very much against vampire law.”
“You don’t scare me, Viktor,” Tess told him quietly while my heart threatened to beat its way out of my chest. “I know you’re nothing but a weak male hiding behind the power of the throne.” She tossed her hair for effect, but I saw how pale she was.
“Defiant until the end, I see,” Viktor said softly, the cruel gleam in his eye turning possessive. “That’s what keeps me coming back to you, Tessa. That fire, that spark.”
He pointed the knife at her, as if we didn’t know whom he was talking about.
He
grasped her chin with his other hand, forcing her to look at him while we all struggled to get free. “You have everything those other females lacked.” His mouth twisted while he pressed the point of the knife into her cheek. “Defiance…when I demand obedience. A smart mouth when I demand silence.”
“You’ll get no obedience from me. Nor will you get silence,” Tessa insisted. Fearless. She was so fearless, and I was going crazy, held in check by Renard’s magic, my powers erased.
Stop being so goddamned brave, I wanted to scream. Stop baiting him before he hurts you and I can’t do a thing to stop it.
“I don’t even enjoy the claimings anymore, frankly—they’ve grown quite boring.” Viktor backed away a pace, knife in hand, thankfully not pressed into Tessa’s flesh. “But I find I’m looking forward to this one. We’ll see how far you can bend before you break.”
Just keep quiet, Tessa. For once in your life, just keep your mouth shut.
“Do your worst, Viktor. But know this: anything you dish out, I’ll give back to you tenfold.” By the look on her face, I knew this wasn’t a threat—it was a solemn promise.
The king’s face brightened. “See? You see, right there. That’s what I’ve been missing. That’s what I’ve been looking for.” But his hand tightened around the knife handle, enough his knuckles went white and I heaved upward, nearly breaking free of Renard’s magic.
My eyes never left that knife, those white knuckles, clenching and clenching. He was going to fucking cut her.
He was going to…
“Viktor.” Renard’s deep voice boomed through the room, stopping Viktor in his tracks. “They’ve tracked the escaped female north of Pontchartrain.”
“You found her?” Viktor asked, the knife held loosely in his hand. “Good—we can take care of her quickly and be done with this mess.”
The High Guard commander stepped into the room, his voice cracking when he saw his dead men on the floor. “We tracked the thrall’s scent to Abita Springs.” His voice cracked slightly when he saw his men spread out over the floor. “A shitty little hovel on a dirt road out in the middle of nowhere.”