Page 41

I stayed quiet, unable to quell the rage boiling in my blood. Koylen and Taclo hardly seemed to recognize me, which made sense. I’d grown taller and curvier since my miserable time as a child with the Diplomats.

Peltos and Garroway did the talking. I caught Peltos’ eye a few times, the confident expression on his face. The man has found a place with the Diplomats and Dimmon Plank, where he can pillage and plunder to his heart’s content and be rewarded for it.

Fuck the True, we had done this man a favor by beating him unconscious in the Firehold and leaving him to die on the Floorboards. Now he’d found a kindred spirit in Dimmon Plank, and looked to be a commander in his ranks.

I could think what I wanted about Lukain—and those thoughts were conflicted—but at least he didn’t humor rapists.

A memory flooded in, the low words of Garro and Peltos drowning away. Shortly before I’d killed Baylen, while I hung from the edge of the window, I had heard Dimmon speaking with him. My attacker had been at Manor Marquin yet I’d been unable to kill him.

Regret filled my bones. There were only two men on this decrepit earth I wanted dead more than anyone—two of the men who had “raised” me.

If Master Lukain truly betrayed me then he would join that list as well.

Unfortunately, I would never see vengeance against him because Skartovius had already done it for me. The nobleblood had stolen my revenge.

A voice snapped me back to reality. “Sephania?”

I blinked at the concerned expression of Garroway. His hand was wrapped around my wrist. “Yes?”

“Did you not hear, lass? Let’s go. We’re done here.”

The young man Taclo sneered. “I thought that was you. Forgot your name for a second.”

I paid him no heed and turned to join Garroway. Managing to keep my temper tamped down was a feat of unfathomable strength.

Then Koylen called out: “Dimmon sends his regards.”

I paused. My hands bunched into fists at my sides.

Garroway’s brow furrowed. His concerned look became graver, his frown deeper. He didn’t release his hold on my wrist.

Urging my feet forward, I stepped into the street, ignoring Koylen’s taunt.

Once we were halfway across, Peltos called out. “Hoy! There’s only four in here, grayskin. We agreed to five.” Peltos had the bomb bag open in front of him, chin dipping with a snarl.

“Finder’s fee,” Garro said, throwing his arms up as if there was nothing he could do about it. “My associates and I would like to see how you do with four, first. We’ll be watching.”

Peltos flared his nostrils. He muttered, “Damn half-bloods,” and disappeared into the building with Taclo and Koylen.

We hurried away from the auction house. I stayed quiet, stewing and brooding.

Once we were a few streets away, heading northeast to get out of the southern Temple District, Garroway said, “What’s going on with you, little honey badger? You’re quiet and dour. You have a history with the Diplomats, I surmise.”

My jaw bulged as I clamped my teeth together. What am I supposed to tell him? How am I supposed to tell this half-blood dhampir that Dimmon Plank was responsible for irrevocably changing my life and breaking me?

I hesitated, shaking my head. “It’s . . . it’s nothing.”

We paused in the middle of the empty street. A blanket of eerie quietness smothered us. Not even the wind whistled. In the distance, two pole-lanterns lit the road in a murky orange glow.

“Don’t lie to me, Seph.” His hand came up, fingers resting on my chin. I’d never seen Garroway’s face so serious. He was locked in an internal struggle he was clearly losing against. I wondered if this grayskin had as much control over his temper as I had originally thought.

My mouth opened to answer—

A black flash blurred by the opening of an alley out the corner of my eye.

I spun on reflex, body tensing.

“Fuck,” Garroway hissed.

My neck twisted to look at him—

As he wrapped his arms around me and shoved , tackling me to the ground.

We went down together in a heap of limbs.

I gasped as something whizzed overhead.

An arrow.

It plunked against the stone wall behind us.

Garroway leapt to his feet with preternatural speed, whipping his sword out of its scabbard in a rasp of steel. I rolled and popped up onto my knees, doing the same with my blade.

There were two of them. At first I wondered if Koylen and Taclo had been sent to follow and harass us.

No. That arrow would have struck dead in my chest had Garroway not taken me to the ground . A shot like that, in the pitch darkness of night, from dozens of yards away?

Men like Taclo and Koylen weren’t built for that kind of shooting.

A vision flared in my mind as I stood back-to-back with Garroway, taking a defensive stance. The mysterious archer from the window of Manor Marquin who put down vampires and Diplomats alike in a matter of seconds.

My blood hummed for battle, thrummed with fear.

Before I could step forward to try and locate our attackers, they came at us—two black shapes moving unnaturally fast in a zigzagging pattern across the cobblestones.

One came from the alley where I’d caught a glimpse, headed right for me. The other came at Garroway from the opposite side of the street, emerging from behind a stack of barrels near a closed shopfront.

The paleness of the vampire’s face, glinting in the moonlight, made goosebumps run along my skin. My eyes took in his unorthodox charge, focusing on his feet and legs.

He was too swift. By the time I swung my first strike, he ducked under it and was behind me. I inhaled, expecting the frigid pain of a blade burying into my back.

Wheeling—

Garroway shouldered me out of the way, sword flashing to deflect the vampire’s attack on me.

My dhampir ally managed to fend off both vampires for a few heartbeats, earning a few cuts on his body. Blood sprayed and Garroway grunted, stumbling back a step as he managed to disengage. “Run, lass! Get to the gate and tell my master what happened here!”

I stooped my shoulders and bent my knees. Running was the last thing on my mind—not when I had all this pent-up aggression and anger to get out and murderous vampires were right in front of me.

I didn’t answer Garro’s plea. My lunge at the nearest vampire was answer enough.

He hissed. “Damned stubborn girl!”

We attacked the vampires together. The fullbloods were dressed in black, cloaks fluttering behind them, turning them into living shadows. Their blades were short and quick, their styles recognizable from the way Lukain fought.

I had never managed to best Lukain . . . and he was only a half-blood. These were full-fanged, fullblooded monsters who owned the night.

We stood no chance. Even with Garroway, it was clear. The vampires moved swiftly, toying with us, pushing us back along the road. Faithless be damned, Garroway had kicked my ass in the ring and he was struggling against these two.

“Shit,” Garroway growled, earning another cut across his forearm he was too slow to dodge.

The sparks and crashing of our swords rang out in the still night. Windows opened from households, candles lit, curious faces poking out in fear.

Amid a tumble of gasps and murmurs, I heard more windows slamming shut than opening. People recognized the pale faces, the fanged snarls, and the unnatural movements of our would-be assassins.

We’re going to die here.

Pain burned along my leg as one of the vampires lunged under my guard, lashed out with a quick nick across my thigh, and hopped back well before my own sword could take him.

“If you won’t go,” Garroway growled, “then we go together.”

I didn’t chance a look at him. There was no time. The vampires were weaving in and out in front of us, batting our blades aside before executing their own graceful strikes. They had a precision and skill with their swords I’d never fought against.

No matter how much anger I summoned, how much wrath I wanted to commit, I couldn’t match up to our attackers’ expertise. I also wasn’t about to let my rage fuel me and make me do something deadly and stupid.

Garroway had no such reservations. He noticed our desperation for what it was: our last stand.

We began to skip backward, dancing away. One of us would retreat while the other parried. Rinse and repeat. The going was slow. We made it half a block like that before my legs ached and my adrenaline began to sour.

We would never make it miles north to the gate this way. The vampires would grow bored after a while and simply end us. That’s what Garroway must have noticed, because his next move changed the entire landscape of our fight.

“Buy me a second!” he shouted.

I dashed forward without thinking, letting my martial instinct take over. I’d been raised in the Firehold and could hold my own—I could give Garro a few heartbeats to finish whatever he was scheming.

My blade whirred as I went on the offensive. My boots thudded on uneven cobblestones.

Blinding pain lanced my sides as blurs of iron-gray notched hits, ripping my tunic with fine cuts. I batted away more strikes than I took but it wasn’t enough. I was going to die, soon, trying to face off against two fullblooded vampires.

Behind me, a loud clatter, then a sizzle. Heat flared at my back. I glanced over my shoulder as I disengaged from the vampires and backpedaled—

Just as Garroway reached into his tunic and produced a clay pot. He had knocked over a pole-lantern from the side of the street, its torch flickering on the cobblestones.

“Back!” he shouted. I wasn’t sure if he was talking to me or the vampires, so I tossed myself toward him, stumbling onto my side.

In one fluid motion, Garro slid his hand and the clay pot through the fire of the discarded torch on the ground. The fuse- tail at the end sparked, quickly running down toward the clay receptacle.

Garroway took my place in front, dashing forward.

The vampires’ red eyes bulged as he came at them with the explosive.

“Garro, no!” I screamed from the ground, sitting up.

He shouted, “Fuck. Off !”—

And tossed the firebomb at the two vampires.

The fullbloods scattered in opposite directions.

The firestorm was an inferno of white-hot heat and warm wind that seared toward me like a tidal wave. A billowing cloud of orange and blue exploded from the shattered pot, blinding me as I shielded my face with my palm and yelled into the eruption.

The vampires, Garroway, the street—it all disappeared in that blinding white inferno reaching up to the heavens. I’d never seen such a violent, visceral detonation.

When my eyes opened and my hand lowered, a black scar of ash and soot marred the cobblestones. Wooden barrels on the side of the road crackled with smoldering embers, breaking apart. A shop cart had exploded in a ruin of charred remains, and now flakes of ashen snow rained down on the road.

My eyes were saucers, my mouth dropped open. Shouting from nearby houses emerged, joining with wails of grief and shock.

The vampires were gone, either dead or escaped.

I crawled forward when I recognized a heap near the blast radius. It was a bundle of burned clothes and a dark cloak. Coughing through choking smoke, I got to the pile and flipped it. Garroway’s pale face stared up at me, blackened and bruised.

The eyes under his lids were roaming.

Fuck me True, he’s alive! My heart soared, slamming against my ribs.

I hauled Garro’s unconscious head onto my lap. “Shit. Shit .” People were emerging from their houses and hovels. My mind was fuzzy, my body ached. Far off in the distance, alarm bells rang out.

The Bronzes would be here soon. I didn’t want to be here to explain what just happened once they arrived.

I could have fled. Done the cowardly thing and gotten out, hidden away in one of the many dwellings of Nuhav I knew so well, and licked my wounds.

The idea never crossed my mind.

My eyes took in a group of advancing younglings, their parents shuffling behind them. Past one of the whelps, the father locked eyes with me.

He gave me a slight nod, his lips firmed.

I nodded back. A silent understanding passed between us two strangers.

Using every ounce of strength in my body, I hauled Garroway into my arms. A heaving bellow wrenched from my lips as I struggled to lift him due to my wounds and weakness.

Where do I take him?!

I staggered toward the father and his family.

Rattling armor and alarm bells pealed through the southern district. The Bronzes were getting closer.

The family parted to let me pass without a word spoken between us.

I figured they helped me because we had dispatched two vampires sent to antagonize Nuhav and its people. We had all lived our lives under the thumb of the vampires and, even closer than them, under the heel of the Nuhavian lawmen.

Other people stepped aside to let me pass as I struggled to haul Garroway. The sea of humanity parted to let the lone human girl and her grayskin ally leave the vicinity. They closed ranks once I’d gone by, to hide us.

My eyes scanned the horizon, desperately searching for a place to hole up.

There!

Cresting over the nearest buildings and houses, the gilded peaks and awesome sight of a structure lifted high above all the others.

The Temple of the True.