Page 79 of A Steeping of Blood (Blood and Tea #2)

JIN

Jin had never seen his sister cry. He had never felt so deep a pain ripping through him as when he saw the tears tracking down Arthie’s face.

For she was the strong one, the put-together one, not him.

He pulled her behind him, knowing their work was not over.

Knowing they could not let Matteo’s death go in vain.

Then he heard the gunshot.

He knew that sound: the Ram’s tiny revolver that had killed him, that had killed his parents. He barreled around the corner and wrenched to a halt. The Ram was rising to her feet, a body in front of her, wrapped in crimson splendor and white bandages.

Flick.

Jin heard a roar of anguish, only to realize it had come from him, from some dark part of his soul. He tore through the shocked masses and dropped to his knees in front of Flick, in front of the Ram , but he didn’t care. His meadow was dying, sunshine fading, sunflowers wilting.

But just as he touched her, she began to rise, her eyes wide.

She was uninjured.

“Jin! I—”

She was alive, rubbing her head but alive.

A bullet hole scorched the wood inches away from her.

The Ram raised her revolver again, aiming for the Council this time.

Jin threw himself forward, knocking into her arm as she fired, killing one of the Council members instantly.

She growled and slammed the revolver into Jin’s jaw, knocking him to the ground with a force he didn’t know someone as old as her could possess.

Old? He stared at her. She didn’t look a day past twenty-seven. He could have sworn she’d looked older before. No, he’d never seen the Ram without her mask before.

He struggled to rise. His head was spinning. People were screaming, running from the Ram’s men. Outside of Sidharth’s vampires, only a handful of guests were armed, for no one thought to bring a weapon to a party.

And there, in the midst of the mayhem, Lady Linden’s tiny revolver fell to the floor. She froze as someone held a stake to her heart.

Arthie.

Her eyes were empty, hollow. Her cheeks were stained with tears, and she moved as if she could barely find the will to do it.

“I should snap this in two,” Arthie said, her voice deathly still. “It would hurt a lot more going in, you crooked wretch.”

A stake? Jin’s brow furrowed. Beside him, Flick looked as if she suddenly carried a heavy weight on her shoulders.

Lady Linden threw up her arms. Arthie reached into the woman’s pocket, pulled out Calibore and fired at the ceiling.

The silence was immediate.

It settled like a blanket over the guests and black-clad men alike as they turned to watch her. Arthie tossed the stake to the floor, where it clattered in the hushed silence. Arthie circled behind Lady Linden, giving the Council, the vampires, and the rest of the attendees a perfect view.

Arthie pressed Calibore to the back of Lady Linden’s skull, and Jin heard the tap of her finger on the trigger. Her voice was quiet, barely audible to even Jin’s ears.

“Might I remind you, Lady Linden, that Calibore kills vampires?”