Page 31 of Saved by the Vampire Goddess (Dark Wine Vampires #1)

Chapter thirty-one

Valroy

The Emperor’s Palace—Twenty minutes earlier

A masked, cloaked domina is dragged from her seat next to the emperor’s couch. The guards strip the cloak from her and reveal the long, chestnut brown hair and slender body of a teen. My gut roils and fear whispers across my skin, telling me all I need to know.

The emperor reaches out with one hand and unties the glittery mask she wears.

“Tina!” I yell, taking a step toward the emperor.

“Freeze, or we kill her now.”

My sword is in the air, pointed at the emperor, but I freeze.

“Don’t you dare hurt her,” the cloaked and masked man next to Tina shouts. I recognize that voice. Titus .

“Silence, traitor. I’ll deal with you next.”

Who betrayed them?

The emperor smiles, like he’s reading the question on my face. “You didn’t think her husband traveled without his manservant, did you? When Maliff arrived home, the man entered through the servants’ entrance and went looking for his master in time to witness your foul deed. The loyal subject fled to a neighbor’s estate and, with their assistance, reported the murder to the authorities. When I met with him, he told me how you killed her husband and stole the girl.”

Why didn’t Evelina or I detect the manservant? A question for later, if I survive. I throw my sword onto the platform, and the blade lands, pointing at the emperor. “I challenge you to single combat.”

The emperor laughs. “Single combat? I think not.”

I spit at the wall below where he sits. “Coward.”

“Not at all. If you can take on my champions and win, I’ll spare your sister.”

I look at Tina. A bruise blooms on her cheek and tears stain her face.

Powerful anger flows through my veins, and claws jet from my fingers. I swear, by Jove’s name, the emperor will die for those tears.

Klienet gives a wave of his hand, four fingers. Two more gladiators move into position, short sword in one hand and shield in the other, so I have a total of three at my back—one on the dance floor, and one each on the sweeping staircases leading to the obeisance platform on which I stand.

Tossing down my sword for the traditional challenge was stupid on my part. As I recognize my mistake, the fourth gladiator rushes down the staircase to my left from the emperor’s level above me.

They have me at the center of a diamond pattern. If I take on any of the gladiators standing on the three separate staircases, I’ll have one opponent in front of me and two behind me, with a third in wait. I’ll lose quickly. Stairs are the worst place to fight from, though if I have to choose, the descending staircase is the better choice. They favor a right-handed fighter like me. The direction they wind makes it easier for the guards to defend the emperor’s platform against challengers.

But I’m refusing that gambit.

Holding the shield I’ve claimed tightly in my left hand, I salute the four gladiators, then step back to the edge of the open obeisance platform. I balance on the balls of my feet and jump, gaining enough height to land behind the gladiator on the floor.

The audience backs away, and the spear throwers move in front of them, leaving space for the battle. Fighting fair isn’t on my agenda. I whoosh behind the gladiator positioned on the dance floor and snap his neck with my claws, then snatch his sword and kick his shield to the wall so I won’t trip on it.

In a microsecond, I weigh the sword in my hand. Not bad. Not as good as my gladius, but I’ll have that back soon enough.

Clutching both the shield and sword in one hand, I strip off the hidden plumbata and send the five heavy darts flying at the spear carriers before they can launch at me. The points pierce their right shoulders and arms, forcing them to drop their spears. I trained as a royal guard, and I know their vulnerabilities, but becoming vampire gives me an advantage in strength and speed I’ve never had before. Amazing how nimble my fingers are even with my claws extended.

The gladiator descending the left staircase reaches the bottom, and I charge, swinging my sword, and we engage with a clang . I score a deep cut into his shield arm, then flip my blade to deflect his sword and cut his sword wrist.

By Jove, the bloody scent blooms, filling the air with a meaty tang. I stumble, wanting to latch on to his wrist and suck at the wound.

The scuffle of sandaled feet descending the right staircase breaks my fixation, and I swap my depleted shield for the one dropped by the disabled gladiator. I swing around on the ballroom floor, and the challenger dashes toward me. We cross swords and my attention splits—the gladiator who originally stood on the highest staircase, between me and the emperor, hops over the body of his injured comrade, and two armed swordsmen now face me.

My own damn fault for allowing the scent of blood to distract me.

In a two-against-one fight, the trick is to keep one opponent between me and the other, rendering him unable to attack without hurting his buddy, while keeping both between me and the remaining spear throwers.

I don’t know their names but think of them as Romulus and Remus. Romulus is tall and thin yet muscular, whereas the second guy, Remus, is thicker around.

Based on their upper-body muscles, each man can probably bench press three hundred pounds.

I have a lot to keep track of as I trade blows with Romulus. I turn, and rather than pivoting on the ball of my foot, the shoe sticks on that damn floor and I stumble, allowing Remus to get past my shield.

A hot, stabbing pain radiates from my belly. Dammit to Hades. I take four quick steps backward, which puts me in range of the spear throwers. Despite the pain in my side, I transfer my sword to my shield hand, deflect the spears with my shield, grab a few darts off the back, and send those bad boys headed at Remus’s thick leg.

Bull’s-eye .

Remus goes down, and I regain my sword and slice through his fighting arm just in case he tries to hop around one-legged. More blood, more enticing scent. This time, I don’t let it distract me.

Well, maybe a little.

Romulus closes in, and we exchange heavy blows, but I can tell he’s tiring. I hurt, but the belly wound doesn’t seem to slow me down. Instead, I’m starving and desperately want to feed, but I still have plenty of power behind my blows. Romulus’s back is to the spear throwers, which worries me. Once he falls, I’ll be unprotected, and the remaining spear throwers will turn me into a pincushion.

A fate I want to avoid.

Which means putting myself closer to the emperor so the spear throwers can’t let fly without risking his life.

Climbing stairs backward with a side wound while carrying out a sword fight against a well-trained adversary isn’t something I’ve practiced. But somehow, I ascend backward while holding off Romulus until I reach the obeisance balcony. There, I force him to his knees and the emperor calls a halt.

Except I don’t stop. The emperor started this fight, but I’m going to finish it. Romulus dives to the side, and my sword misses his neck but clips his scalp, delivering a nasty, bloody wound, which perfumes the air.

I grit my teeth. Don’t get distracted .

“Stop, or your sister dies now.”

I freeze and glance up at Tina.

The emperor dismisses Romulus, who clutches his scalp and stumbles down the stairs, then helps his buddy Remus hop off the dance floor.

The emperor motions at Titus. “You. Fight if you want the girl to live.”

Titus glowers but doesn’t move.

Emperor Klienet snaps his fingers at Titus. “I said, if you want to save the girl”—he points at me—“kill him.”

Titus glances from the emperor to me. “No.”

The emperor spins his fingers in the air, a hurry-up motion, as he glances at the guard holding Tina. “If Dominus Titus doesn’t engage in battle in the next sixty seconds, kill the girl.”

Titus runs down the seven-step staircase from the pulvinar and sweeps up my gladius from the floor.

I stay on the obeisance balcony. With the spear carriers still in a half-circle around the dance floor, dropping back to that level for a one-on-one is a bad idea. So we exchange blows, but it becomes apparent he’s putting on a show. I’ve sparred with Titus for years, and this is not his full effort.

The emperor is waiting for one of us to bleed, and we’re surrounded. But I can’t maim or kill my friend—not after what he’s been through to protect Tina.

Then an idea strikes me like a dart.

Hooking my shield at my belt, I grab the scanner from my pocket and press the deactivation button. Evelina warned me it’s easier to control someone after biting them, but freezing him in place is possible without the bite, so I stare into Titus’s eyes.

His fist tightens around his sword hilt, and he steps back, trying to resist, his jaw clenched. “What are you doing?” he whispers. “Tina—”

“Trust me.” I keep my gaze locked on his, applying more mental pressure, and down he goes, collapsing flat on his back near the stairs leading up to the emperor.

I face Klienet. “It appears Titus has had a medical fit. Shall we call it a draw?”

“Kill—” The next word catches in the emperor’s throat as a shadow passes over him, and a bloody cut gapes open from one side of his neck to the other. A bodyless hand appears, plunges a dagger into his stomach, and rips upward, stopping at his clavicle.

Suddenly, the dagger withdraws and disappears, and the emperor falls over.

“The emperor’s plan to destroy the dome would have killed you all,” an invisible Evelina announces. “The goddess Diana has decided his fate.”

Guards back away. There’s nothing more frightening than an invisible killer, especially one who’s a goddess. Screams rise from the dance floor crowd, and they flee, jamming the exits.

I’m at Tina’s side before anyone figures out what happened. A disembodied hand slaps my wrist, breaking my grip on her.

“Retract your claws before ya hurt someone,” Evelina whispers.

Oh Jupiter . Pinpricks of blood well on Tina’s bare arm. I push energy into my hands and ignore the pain as my claws retract. “I’m sorry, sister.”

Evelina snorts. “No time for apologies. Use your daylight bracelet. It’ll mask your presence.”

Futuo . What is wrong with me? I should have used it before this. I tap the stone and hug Tina tightly. The poor dear shakes in my arms.

Evelina’s bubble overlaps with mine, and she pulls Tina from my arms. “No time for that. I’ll take her. I’m too small to mask Titus—you grab him. Keep him within your shadow.”

“You have the football?”

“Yup—now move!”

I descend to the obeisance balcony, scoop up Titus, and run down the stairs as some idiot from the back of the dead emperor’s pulvinar yells, “Shoot them! Now! Don’t let them get away.”

How they’re supposed to hit a target they can’t see, I’m not sure, but I don’t give them a chance of getting lucky with a random shot. I hear the sound of an automatic pistol firing behind me, and I jump off the stairs, clutching Titus, then flatten myself on the floor on top of him. He’s unconscious dead weight. I don’t cushion his fall very well, and from the fresh blood I smell, he probably broke his nose when he landed face down.

I flinch in silent apology.

“Veer off and meet me outside,” Evelina yells over the gunfire.

The guards with spears still haven’t figured out where we went and are backing away from the random gunfire.

The sound of Tina’s sudden screaming drives me crazy, but I can’t do anything about it.

“For cripes’ sake, hush,” Evelina’s shadow whispers. “They’re fine.”

Then my sister falls silent, which is almost worse.

As I drag Titus along, my body over his, an occasional zinging bullet flies by, then one gets me. The pain blooms in my back, and then a second one pierces my butt.

Futuo! Son of Jupiter!

I’m a goner. The wounds hurt like I’m on fire. But I keep crawling, pushing Titus along until he wakes and tries to scramble out of my shadow. Even with my increased strength, I can barely hold on to him. If I let him leave our invisibility bubble, he’s dead. So I have no choice: I mumble an apology and sink my fangs into his neck to drink.

I’d be dishonest if I didn’t admit the hunger was driving me as well. I need dark wine desperately. But I’m careful. When Titus stops fighting me, I release his neck and mesmerize him, telling him to calm down and go still. He does, even as the chaos continues around us.

One problem solved, one to go. How in the name of Hades am I going to find Evelina and my sister? I make it past the row of confused spear carriers and, despite the bullet wounds, rise to my feet, slinging Titus over my shoulder, and weave toward an exit door. I feel an inexplicable pull to go outside. Evelina is calling to me. The powerful draw gives no quarter, and I slam the door open.