Page 94 of Dissection of Immortal Hearts

“Where did you get that?”

“The basement. Move aside!”

He complied as Diana began hammering at the bed frame with all her strength. The clang of metal against metal echoed through the house and, likely, across the entire mountain.

“Diana, they’ll hear us!”

Her lips curled back, baring her vampiric fangs. Sweat made strands of hair cling to her forehead. The resolve etched on her face told him she wouldn’t quit.

“For fuck’s sake, stop!” At last, she heeded him. “You’re going to leave now, and promise me you’ll never return to Antambazi.”

Diana fetched a pistol from the wardrobe, loaded it, and handed it to him.

“Thank you, princess. Now go!”

The voices outside were almost upon them. Diana aimed her own weapon at the door. “I have no intention of running.”

Damn it!

Constantine disengaged the safety on his pistol.

38

Kathrine

Kathrine assumed her usual position to the left of the throne and waited.

The grand hall, standing since the time of Arius, had witnessed countless events, yet it had never contained a bed at its centre – let alone a bed with a necromancer chained to it. Constantine sat on the edge of the mattress, one arm bound and stretched taut, while the other rested casually on his thigh, fingers drumming a steady rhythm. The vampire,Diana,knelt on the floor, hands tied behind her back, face stripped of the smug expression she’d worn when shooting Kathrine mere days ago.

The couple had caused considerable trouble with those cursed handcuffs. At first glance, the shackles appeared crude, like an ineptly fashioned prop from a tawdry game. However, they possessed powerful magic, making them unbreakable and extending their enchantment to the entire metal frame of the bed, rendering it as indestructible as granite.

When Kathrine’s subordinates had discovered they couldn’t cut through the cuffs, they attempted to use a circular saw. The metal had sparked fiercely, sending stinging embers flying across the room with each try. In the end, they’d dismantled the walls and had called for a transport van to move the necromancer and the entire bed to the palace. Then, they’d used a platform to lift it onto a terrace and transfer it into the hall.

When the Queen arrived, she took one cursory glance at the bizarre scene and promptly dispatched someone to getthe ayradjakli. Soon after, the air thickened with tension that signalled the ayradjakli’s presence. He materialised before the throne. “You summoned me, Your Majesty.”

She gestured towards the bed with a delicate finger. “I want you to break the enchantment on the cuffs.”

He turned, his sharp eyes sweeping over the scene before lingering briefly on the vampire. “It can be done,” he said at last..

The Queen nodded, and a guard stepped forward carrying an opaque pouch. The witcher seized it with eagerness and inhaled its contents. His expression soured.

“Nothing extraordinary,” the Queen remarked, “but I assume the magic isn’t extraordinary, either.”

The ayradjakli bared his teeth. “You’re fortunate the spell was cast for fun, not for security.” With that, he snapped his fingers and vanished, taking the pouch with him.

Someone gasped – likely one of the younger reptilians, unaccustomed to witnessing the witcher’s prowess. Kathrine, however, didn’t need to look to know the cuffs had opened. When she did, the necromancer was flexing his wrist, his moment of freedom short-lived as two guards wrenched his arms behind his back and forced him to his knees.

“Remove the bed,” the Queen ordered with a faint wave, her attention now fixed on the necromancer. “Constantine, Constantine… Why would you do such a thing? I thought that after I provided you with comfort and the chance to regain your strength, we had established… a different kind of relationship. One of trust, of mutual interest…”

Kathrine expected a defiant retort, but the necromancer stayed silent, his head bowed, his previous audacity missing.

“Look at me!” The Queen’s voice carried a sharp edge of irritation. She approached him, the click of her heels echoing against the marble. In her black robes, she was a vision of divine beauty and demonic terror, her green steel eyes promisingnothing good for her captives. She gripped his chin. “What compelled you to flee, necromancer?”

“My priorities changed,” he replied, his voice as calm as a still lake with a ticking bomb beneath its surface.

“It’s time to change them once more.”

“If I do, my price will change as well.”