Page 32 of The Bloody Ruin Asylum & Taproom (Sam Quinn #7)

Twenty-Six

A Portrait in Pain

A soft woman’s voice whispered urgently in my ear. I had no idea what she was saying, but I got it. I had to go now. Lifting my head, I felt the world swim and I retched, causing even more pain to roll through me.

The whispering was louder and sped up. Okay, okay. I got it. I lurched to my hands and knees and then tipped over, falling onto my side. My stomach tensed, but there was nothing left to come out.

I’d had enough concussions to know what a bad one felt like. The pain had tears running down my face, but I tried again. Cadmael was too powerful to be wandering around this joint with a homicidal maniac in charge. Clive and Vlad were down there and last I’d seen, they’d been frozen.

Blowing out a breath, I got to my hands and knees again, listing hard to the right.

Fighting through it, I pushed to my feet and felt a cold hand steadying me.

When I seemed to be standing on my own, she took my hand and led me through the dark to the stairs.

Yes, I had good night vision, but that wasn’t too helpful in absolute darkness.

She stopped me and then put my hand on a railing.

Using that, I made my way slowly and painfully down the stairs.

I leaned on the wall as I went, scraping off filth and spiderwebs, but I couldn’t let myself care.

Showers existed. I’d be clean eventually.

For now, I needed to stay alive and make sure Clive remained only partially deadish.

“Hey,” I whispered, “did I tell you I’m pretty sure I met your daughter?”

The hand on my arm went ice cold. Wait. Did she understand me?

“You have the same eyes. Same color. Same shape. Hair’s the same too, though hers is short. Her name’s Viktoria. She’s a werewolf and a total badass. You’d like her. We can talk later. Kinda busy now.”

When I finally hit the bottom, my knees gave out but I caught myself and leaned against the wall before trudging toward the slice of light that meant door. Unsheathing a claw, I slipped it into the narrow gap and popped the door open.

Light after absolute darkness was like adding heavy metal spikes to my already pounding head. I heard crashing somewhere in the Guild. It wasn’t here though, so, squinting, I held onto the wall and made my way back to the sparring room.

It was even worse than I’d remembered. Dust and blood had mixed to form a thick red sludge on the mats. Gore sprayed across the white walls. In the middle stood Clive and Vlad, seemingly frozen.

Clive?

No response.

Shoving off, I took one unsteady step and then two. Trying to tip my body to the left to compensate for my leaning so hard to the right. I was moving faster—panic will do that to you—but it still seemed to take forever to get to them.

Vlad was facing away from me, my axe still hanging from his bloody, gloved hand. Clive, though, was facing my direction. His eyes were blank and that alone had me moving faster.

Clive! I screamed in our heads.

Nothing. His eyes were still vamp black, his fangs glistening on his lips, but he wasn’t here with me anymore. What had Cadmael done to them?

There were more crashes, and they sounded closer. The sparring room was a few doors down from the gathering room. The crashing seemed to be coming from the Guild offices, but my sense of direction was screwed up, so I couldn’t be sure.

Gripping Clive’s shoulder, I lifted up and kissed him, hoping true love’s kiss would break the spell. It didn’t. Stupid fairy tales.

Looking around the room for inspiration, I thought again of fairy tales.

The fae. I turned my head, still holding on to Clive so I didn’t fall, and stared at the axe in Vlad’s gloved hand.

Fae blade. Vampires couldn’t touch the metal.

It blistered and burned their skin. The blade had been spelled to kill any fae who attacked me without provocation.

I was pretty sure the queen would agree that everything happening here was provocation enough.

Fuck. I knew what I had to do.

Leaning against Vlad, I yanked on the axe handle until I got it out of his grip.

Moving it to my left hand to counter the list to the right, I made my way back to the door and listened hard.

It wasn’t easy with the pounding in my head, but I tried to keep track of the sounds of destruction.

They were closer. I was pretty sure they were closer and louder.

Hanging on to the door, I leaned out into the hall. Nothing. I counted doorways. It looked like I had to get past two rooms before I made it to the gathering room, which was where I needed to be, assuming I was correct in how to fix this mess.

I padded out, as quietly as possible, switching the axe to my right hand so I could hold the wall with my left.

My brain felt like it was too big for my skull.

I focused on that third doorway. I just needed to get there and hope like hell this worked.

Then I could lie down and enjoy a nice long coma.

One doorway down. A crash behind me made me jump. I looked over my shoulder. Wait. Which direction had that come from? I couldn’t see anything, but I knew he was getting closer. Risking a fall, I moved faster.

Almost tipping over, I caught myself and gritted my teeth through the pain. Second doorway. Dark spots filled my vision, the white noise getting louder. I grabbed the doorknob, bracing myself upright, but the door hadn’t been closed completely and it gave way, taking me with it.

What was that hissing? I blinked my eyes open. Shit. I was on the floor again. The whispered hissing became more urgent, and I heard something hit the wall of the room next door. The gathering room. Cadmael was already there.

Shitshitshitshit. Could I still make this work?

I rolled to my stomach so I could push up to my hands and knees again, coming close to passing out.

I knew I was in a time crunch, so I was panicking while trying to breathe through the pain.

First thing’s first. Stand up. It took a few attempts, but using the axe handle and the wall, I got myself upright.

I was in a strange twilight space, between consciousness and unconsciousness.

I knew it wouldn’t take much to put me down, so I had to get this done.

Moving faster, racing against an unwilling nap, I made it to the gathering room and looked in. The room had been trashed, holes punched in walls, furniture smashed into shards. Cadmael stood in front of the fireplace, staring at the portrait of the prince.

Hopefully that’d keep him occupied while I moved as quietly as I could behind him. Pleasepleaseplease.

I was a couple of feet away, using the axe as a cane, when he flinched, stood straight, and spun. Eyes vamp black and more than a little crazy, he stalked toward me, his hands fisted. I’d never survive a punch. It was now or never.

I lifted the axe, but his hand was already around my throat, squeezing. I was about to die. This sucked.

“Why is it always you?” he growled.

Twisting my arm, I brought the axe over my shoulder. He squeezed harder and my head exploded in pain all over again. As my vision went dark, I threw the axe, hoping against hope it hit its mark.