Page 40

I had never been scared of Calypso Rayne—the most powerful Furie to ever exist—but I was sure as shit scared for her.

Kill Carmilla. Stabilize the Moroi Houses. Do . . . something about the wraiths. Try to mend things between the Moroi and Velesians. Figure out what the fuck was going on with Cali.

Gods, I would give Vail’s right hand right now just to have an easy-to-fix problem so I could get that little thrill at actually solving something.

I thought about our night in the cave that felt like ages ago but had only been a couple of weeks. Maybe his left hand. If I ever decided to forgive him one day, that right hand was talented .

A laugh bubbled up my throat and got stuck. Was this what it was like to lose your mind? Because I was drained in every sense of the word. Emotionally. Mentally. Physically.

The world could get fucked.

Suddenly, I felt the weight of several gazes on me, and I briefly wondered if my manic laugh had actually made it past my lips. Then I realized that everyone except Vail had started to follow Cali but stopped when they realized I wasn’t moving.

Because I was having a minor mental breakdown. No big deal.

I caught Draven’s attention, knowing Kieran and Alaric would be stubborn about this, and briefly slid my gaze to Vail before giving Draven a heavy look.

He pursed his lips but jerked his head in a nod, then proceeded to pull Alaric and Kieran away, but not before they both leveled a death glare at Vail.

The Marshal failed to notice. He just stared down at House Salvatore with a distant look in his eyes.

I stood next to him in weighted silence.

I was far from forgiving Vail for what he’d done, but I no longer had any doubts about his loyalty.

Carmilla had severely miscalculated by targeting the rangers.

Maybe she hadn’t realized that, despite Vail helping us escape, he hadn’t completely turned against her.

He would never side with her now. The rangers—especially those rangers—were Vail’s family.

“She dies.” He finally turned away from the horizon to look at me with eyes of silver fire. “There will be no deal. No life of imprisonment when this is all done. Carmilla fucking dies.”

The fury that had been slowly building in Vail ignited into a bonfire that swallowed his grief and forged it into something new.

I let him see the rage I was feeling before I allowed myself to look at the graves of our fallen friends.

Carmilla was someone I’d looked up to for most of my life.

In many ways, she was the reason I was who I was.

Not to mention that she was my last living blood relative .

. . which was her doing, since she’d done nothing when my parents had been murdered.

It didn’t matter that she hadn’t been the one to order their deaths. She could have stopped them.

Nobody had forced Carmilla on this path. She’d chosen to be the villain and played us all for fools.

I turned away from the graves to look at Vail. “Painfully. She dies painfully.”

The mood inside House Salvatore was tense. I suspected if I were anyone other than an Heir, the guards at the front gate would have turned us away. As it was, they had granted us entry, and we’d been quickly ushered into a guest wing.

Half a dozen rangers stood outside our door, and the message was very clear that we were to wait. I assumed for Dominique or Aniela, but the rangers weren’t exactly forthcoming with information.

It didn’t feel like a trap though, because the air reeked of fear and uncertainty.

The room we were in did have a bathing chamber, so we all took turns cleaning ourselves up as best we could; although, without fresh clothes to change into, there wasn’t much we could do.

“We’ll give it another ten minutes,” I said quietly. The rangers would no doubt hear anything we said, so we were all being careful with our words. “Then I’ll insist on seeing Aniela or Dominique.”

Everyone nodded while Roth went back to frowning at the small collection of books in the room, as if they were personally offended at the meager offerings.

Kieran was cuddled up on the small settee with Draven, his head resting on the prince’s shoulder.

I hadn’t gotten a chance to speak with him alone since our encounters with Demetri and Carmilla.

Demetri’s words about him being a courtier had no doubt struck at an old wound.

I scowled, wishing I could kill my ex-husband all over again.

I caught Draven’s eye, and something passed between us, then he gave me a tight smile before kissing the top of Kieran’s head. A soothing sensation passed down the bond, and I assumed it was from him because Vail was currently pacing the room like a trapped animal.

Definitely not soothing.

Alaric walked out of the washroom, and for a solid ten seconds, I stopped thinking about all the ways we were fucked.

He carried a damp shirt, leaving his carved chest and abs on display. Like Kieran, Alaric was built on the leaner side. Unlike his best friend though, Alaric spent a lot of time running and rock climbing—something I’d only recently learned about him.

“You’re drooling,” he said dryly as he closed the distance between us, the corners of his lips curling up into the smallest of smiles. “And you missed a spot.”

He used his thumb to brush at my jawline. I closed my eyes and enjoyed his touch. It still didn’t feel real that Alaric Lockwood was being affectionate with me.

“I could really go for some hot springs right now,” I mused.

Alaric’s thumb went still, and I cracked my eyes open to find him looking at me with such wanton desire that my heart started beating faster.

A soft laugh came from the couch as Kieran stirred in Draven’s arms. “I think Alaric would go for the dessert this time.”

Roth snorted, which made me suspect Kieran had told them about the time Alaric had walked in on the two of us getting hot and heavy and Kieran had asked Alaric if he was there for “dessert.”

“I do love how sweet you taste,” Alaric said, never taking his eyes off me as his thumb started stroking my jawline again.

A spear of jealousy slammed into me, and I inhaled sharply before glancing at Vail, who was still pacing the room—now with clenched fists.

Despite how frayed our bond was, his emotions were practically screaming down it.

I opened my mouth to say something to hopefully calm him down a bit just so I could think without getting bombarded by his feelings, when I heard the faint sounds of footsteps from the hall outside our room.

Kieran and Draven detangled and smoothly got to their feet.

I pushed feelings of gratitude down the bond as Draven nudged Kieran behind himself.

It seemed unlikely that we’d be attacked now, given that they’d shown us to a guest room and not a dungeon, but after the past week, I wasn’t sure anything would surprise me anymore.

Vail stalked over to stand by my side, something that earned him a warning look from Draven that I also felt echoed down the bond. Argh. It was really confusing to feel emotions that weren’t mine. Hopefully I’d get used to it over time.

I glanced at Alaric—who’d thankfully put his shirt back on, because if anyone else drooled over him I’d carve their eyes out—and jerked my head towards Roth. He pursed his lips but did as I requested and went to join them.

If Salvatore did decide to attack us, we were spread out across the room and would force them to divide their attention.

The door slammed open, and a beautiful, very pissed-off redhead stormed into the room. Usually the Salvatore Heir exuded a sultry energy while she glided through life. It was often easy to forget that Aniela was a ruthless predator while she batted her long, dark eyelashes.

That was not the case now.

“What the fuck is going on, Samara?” She crashed to a halt in front of me, green eyes flashing in warning. Only two rangers followed her into the room, but given the reputation of the twin sisters, that was all the backup Aniela needed.

Petra and Brennan bared their teeth while burnt umber eyes shone brightly against their rich brown skin. The dual Marshals of House Salvatore.

“You tell me, Aniela,” I responded coolly while I arched an eyebrow. “Things seem a little tense around here, and shoving the Heir of another House into a room like this and locking the door isn’t exactly good manners.”

Cunning eyes searched mine, and I responded in kind. If Aniela had been mind-fucked by Carmilla, I would think she would act like her normal self-assured self and try to keep us placated while she informed my aunt that we were here.

Granted, she could have sent a striker with a message while we’d been sequestered and was now putting on a show to see how we would react, but I didn’t think that was the case. Behind the anger brimming in her eyes was something else. Fear.

Something had happened that had put the usually unshakeable Heir on alert.

“Answer the fucking question,” Aniela growled. Thin lines of a green so light, it was practically white wove their way through her green eyes. Interesting. I could count on one hand the number of times I’d seen Aniela let her bloodlust rise.

Aniela liked to be underestimated, relying on that pretty face to distract the foolish while she angled a dagger at their backs.

The question was . . . was this just another act? Was there a knife at my back?

“I’ll tell you,” I said slowly, “but first . . . where is Dominique?”

I had a split second to see Aniela’s eyes turn almost a solid white before she threw herself at me. My back crashed against the low table in front of the settee, and I let out a harsh grunt as something sharp jammed its way between my ribs.

The sounds of fighting filled the room, but I was a bit preoccupied with keeping Aniela from stabbing me again. I wrapped one hand around her throat, and the other clung to her wrist when she tried to pull the dagger free.

“You did this!” She let out a strangled hiss as she tried to get my hand off her neck. The blade in my side wasn’t great, but we both knew I’d recover from that. She wouldn’t recover if I tore her throat out, which was why her claws were digging into my wrist.

“Not. Your. Enemy,” I ground out.

“Liar!” she growled and twisted the knife.

I gasped as pain laced up my side. Fuck this. I shoved my hips up to unbalance her, earning myself another flash of pain just as I yanked her down by the throat.

Aniela didn’t let go of my wrist, so her entire body dipped forward as I leaned up to slam my forehead into her nose.

Blood erupted as Aniela shrieked and her grip on my wrist slipped before I shoved her off me. A fresh wave of pain tore through me as she pulled the knife with her, but I didn’t let it slow me down as I lunged forward and hammered another punch to her face.

“Aniela!” one of the Marshals screamed. I rarely heard them speak, so I couldn’t tell them apart by voice.

Everyone in the room seemed to freeze, the sounds of fighting abruptly stopping, but I kept my attention on Aniela, trusting Alaric to keep Roth safe and Kieran, Draven . . . and Vail to keep the others off my back.

The Salvatore Heir panted beneath me, her nearly white eyes feral with rage. I held one of my blood daggers at her throat while my other hand caught her wrist before she could raise her own dagger in defense.

“Do it,” she spat. “I don’t know what you did to my cousin, but I sure as fuck won’t be your lapdog. So fucking kill me already.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Dominique is with Carmilla, isn’t she?”

Aniela went still, and I knew I had guessed right. That alone wouldn’t have set her off like this though. I quickly thought through several possibilities, not letting go of Aniela’s wrist or decreasing the pressure of my blade against her skin.

“Let me guess.” I held Aniela’s gaze. “Dominique did something completely out of character. Maybe issued an order that you know she would never give and one that you don’t want to follow?”

“Won’t,” Aniela whispered. “ Won’t follow.”

Slowly, I pulled the dagger away from Aniela’s throat.

I didn’t release my hold on her wrist until I rolled back onto the balls of my feet, then I smoothly rose and took a couple of steps back.

A quick glance around the room showed everyone a little bloody, but there didn’t appear to be any major injuries.

Petra and Brennan sported bloody lips. They looked damn near identical, but Petra’s eyes were a touch darker, which was how I knew it was her giving Vail a look that promised death.

He smiled at her in return.

More rangers had poured into the room while I’d been fighting Aniela.

To my annoyance, Alaric and Roth were standing next to Kieran and Draven; the four of them had held off the flood of newcomers.

I sent Alaric a cool look for failing to keep Roth out of the fighting, only to yelp when one of Roth’s ropes snapped against my ass.

Hard.

Roth arched an eyebrow at me while I rubbed my soft flesh, trying to ease the sting. They smirked at me as the thin ropes slipped through the air to wind back around their forearms.

I slid the dagger back into the sheath on my thigh and gave a pointed look at the others.

Kieran and Draven immediately put their weapons away, but Alaric hesitated for a second before doing the same.

Silver eyes glared at me for a long moment before Vail resheathed his sword and threw a dagger back to Petra . . . a little harder than necessary.

Oh, no wonder she was so pissed. Vail had managed to at least partially disarm her.

“So,” I drawled as Aniela rose to her feet, “how about we try this again? Maybe start with talking? We can always stab each other later.”