Page 49 of The Curse of Eternity (Descendants of Helsing #1)
‘Til I Choke
The lycans in armor advanced, their strides sure, unafraid.
Panic arced down my spine alongside the chill of Lucian’s bloodlust. Drake’s stance had already shifted toward the defensive.
I was slow to raise my weapon as Drake raced to meet the first guard head on.
His fist slammed into the metal breastplate, creating a dent and shocking the guard backward a step, but the damage was nothing compared to his previous strength.
Cold dread twisted my empty stomach. He’d lost too much blood after the library brawl, but there wasn’t time for him to feed more to recover.
Raising my machete, I ran to cover Drake’s flank while the remaining guards closed in.
One had caught the first who’d stumbled, but another two had taken their place.
Drake’s blurred movements were barely dodging the guards’ swinging broadsword and ax.
The last two reached me faster than I’d thought possible.
A tickle in my ear was all the warning I had to dodge the guard’s spear thrust. Sidestepping, I crouched to duck beneath the reach of the second guard swarming me.
My drop turned into a roll, and I managed to get behind the first guard before swinging blindly at the back of their knees.
Except the son of a bitch twisted around to follow me.
The piercing clang of my machete hitting their metal-plated knee rang in my ears.
I sprang up despite my screaming muscles, and backed away, but my attempt at putting distance between me and the guards was short lived.
What had seemed like such a spacious bed chamber when we’d entered was now cramped with so many armor-clad lycans.
I tried to spin from their reach, but a cold gauntlet clamped over my right elbow.
Air hissed in between my gritted teeth. The pressure made the muscles along my forearm spasm, and my traitorous fingers released my machete.
It hit the carpet, lying there only a second before the other guard picked it up.
“Maria!” Drake’s alarm brought my attention to where he stood, too far to reach me and not close enough to the exit to escape.
The guard holding me twisted my arm, shoving me forward until my knees hit the floor with a smack.
Pain shot up my legs, but it became an afterthought when Lucian finally stepped in.
Drake managed to evade the four guards vying for him, with two of them on their knees but no signs of life-threatening injuries.
His rush toward me was intercepted by Lucian’s blurring figure, too fast for me to cry out and warn my vampire, whose eyes were only on me.
A crack reverberated through the chill air when Lucian shoved his elbow into Drake’s spine.
“No!” I screamed, twisting my shoulders in every direction, desperate to break free from the two guards now holding me down on either side.
No one else moved as Drake suddenly collapsed to his knees, barely catching himself by his shaking forearms. Lucian’s gaze swept over the two recovering guards before he pointedly waved to the other two who were still standing.
The backs of my eyes burned when one guard grabbed Drake’s wrist, wrenching it behind his back to shove his chest into the floor.
Stone cracked beneath the weight of the guard’s knee digging into Drake’s back, making the carpet sag an inch under their combined weight.
Throat tight, I forced back tears and caught Drake’s eye—unfazed by the brutality, but shining with terror I knew deep down was for me alone.
Hatred boiled to the forefront as my gaze settled on Lucian while the guards closed in.
“Coward!” I spat, gaining Lucian’s attention as the guard with the dented breastplate hurried to restrain Drake with thick iron shackles. “Fight me one-to-one, I fucking dare you!”
“Believe me, little tiger,” Lucian said, his voice almost a purr as the gleam behind his icy blue eyes sent shivers down my spine. “Ripping your vocal chords clean from your throat would bring me nothing but pleasure.”
“And yet you restrain us.” Drake grimaced, trying and failing to get his legs under him while the guards kept him pinned down. Thank fuck he could still move , but my flickering hope died with the grating timbre of Lucian’s voice.
“Your intrusion has called for a summons,” he muttered, then his leg moved in a blur to kick Drake clear across the face.
Gritty blood oozed from my vampire’s nose while I fought the bile rising up my throat.
My shoulders burned, the tendons stretched taut with my arms twisted behind my back.
Drake spat dark blood to the stained carpet, blinking quickly like his sight was out of focus, while Lucian delicately adjusted his vest. “One that I would not dare disobey.”
Another pair of shackles chimed against its attached chains as a guard strode closer, and I paled.
This could not be fucking happening, not when we were this close!
Cold metal compressed around my numbing wrists, and I shut my eyes.
Teeth clenched, I fought the zing of magick icing up my veins from the sigiled restraints.
Faster than a thought, the shackles’ power drained away.
Thinking fast, I subtly gripped the iron cuffs between my fingers just-right so they wouldn’t fall off my forearms. A relieved sigh started in my lungs, but I bit it back down to pretend the restraints were working instead of hanging loose against my bruised skin.
Free, I may be, but whatever loyalty the fortress’s magick offered my bloodline clearly didn’t extend to Drake.
Surrounded by six armored werewolves and one really pissed off vampire, we weren’t anywhere closer to escape.
“Follow me.” Lucian smirked, motioning with a wave before turning on his heel in a blur.
The guard with my machete eased up on my shoulder as the other released me entirely to join the four guards carefully restraining Drake while hauling him up to stand.
I managed to get one foot under me to rise.
A shove against my shoulder made me stumble.
The shackles almost slipped off, and I had to bend my throbbing knees to balance the metal with my momentum.
My back pocket practically burned when I crossed the threshold of Dracula’s chambers, and returned to the corridor beyond.
Okay, so things didn’t really go according to plan, but we’d gotten the rings.
Hopefully they would do what legend told.
I only had to bide my time, despite my fingertips already stinging from the pressure of holding up the shackles.
Far ahead, Lucian was flanked by two guards as they took the corner at the end.
A few steps ahead of me, Drake was being ushered along by one lycan on either side and a third following for good measure—all with their weapons drawn and ready if he resisted.
The one behind me walked dutifully, but not nearly as concerned.
Thumps echoed against the stone walls with every synchronized step the armored guards took, adding to my pounding headache from the spent adrenaline.
No plans came to mind on our steady descent through the fortress, only my circling thoughts that kept repeating I couldn’t lose Drake. Not now, and if this fortress was hellbent on keeping me alive, then maybe it would give me an opening to get Drake out of here safely.
As long as we survived until then.
Something reassuring flickered at the corner of my consciousness.
Like a word I knew but couldn’t remember for the life of me.
Deep magick created this place, and I didn’t understand a lick of the mystical mumbo jumbo, but if I could keep these shackles from falling off after two long staircases and several dark corridors, I had to believe there was a chance .
Because nothing would make me throw away my life anymore—or his.
The hallway gradually widened, until the ceilings high above strewn with chandeliers indicated that we’d crossed from the residential area of the fortress into a social political space.
Marble floors shone underfoot, like they’d been freshly waxed.
My boots squeaked on our approach to the enormous double doors at the centrepoint of the grand entryway.
There were no actual exits leading to what would have been the outside in our reality, just unbroken stone walls and tapestries that would have taken a human lifetime to manually weave.
Two massive winged gargoyles stood on either side of the bejeweled doors leading to an equally unlit room beyond. A shiver danced down my spine when we passed their stone faces, chiseled into a depiction of pain and contempt.
The circular throne room inside was surreal, with a long rug woven with blues of every shade and cream colors for accents.
Stylized stonework climbed the walls, drawing my gaze to the high vaulted ceiling before my focus shifted to the six silhouettes at the center of the space.
Each of them were dressed in lavish robes or gowns, as different from one to the next.
Before their chilling gazes could set off my instincts through their bloodlust, I couldn’t help but notice that nobody sat on the actual throne in the great room.
Built into the floor like a fixture of the fortress itself, a dark throne rose like a pillar behind the six smaller versions of it set onto a spacious flat step, a mere foot above my own standing.
Its emptiness felt strange, like a second heartbeat tugging my middle closer.
An urge that would only be satisfied by sitting atop the royal seat.