Page 51 of The Curse of Eternity (Descendants of Helsing #1)

“No!” This couldn’t be happening. I couldn’t let it happen. Damn it, fortress, give me something to work with! “You can’t—” Staring down the most influential vampires on Earth, I struggled to come up with anything I could use. “I’ll never tell you anything if you hurt him!”

Pain licked across my cheekbone, reverberating into my jaw the instant after Lucian’s fist blurred at the corner of my eye.

Even if I’d seen it coming, I wouldn’t have been able to deflect.

A stinging itch radiated down my neck, and I took a shallow breath.

With my ears ringing, I glared up at the monstrous bastard as he straightened his embroidered vest.

“How I have longed to do that,” Lucian muttered, his words strictly for my benefit considering his thick English.

The Domnitori member in black spoke then, and by his cruel smirk, it wasn’t in my favor.

Drake’s shackles rattled, drawing my attention to where dark blood ran from his forearms while he’d thrashed his skin through to the bone against the metal.

“ Te voi ucide ,” he spat, seething with every precise pronunciation of each word.

None of the Domnitori showed concern, their cold exteriors unimpressed.

All, except the one in crimson. Irina, Milica, Petru, Nikolai…

The vampire in silver remained nameless, but his detached, shrewd gaze made beads of sweat roll down my neck.

Something unsaid thickened in the stale air, smelling of death.

I itched for my machete, still in the grasp of the guard standing at ease to my left.

Petru spoke softly, seemingly addressing his ruling party.

They each stood so fast that I straightened up instantly, ready for them to advance on us, but then they left, one after another in a line.

They didn’t seem to be rushing, but they also weren’t trying to conceal their supernatural speed.

My neck craned to follow the crimson one’s exit, the rings somewhere on his person, but then he disappeared around the corner where the gargoyles stood guard over nothing and no one.

Besides Drake, the only vampire that remained was Lucian.

His satisfied sneer was accompanied by a parting line, but I had no clue what he said to Drake, his tone full of thinly-concealed excitement over our predicament.

Really, if I survived this, I was going to have to brush up on Romanian.

As luck would have it, Lucian strode down the long rug after the Domnitori.

His departure from the throne room was quick, not having glanced at me once, like I was beneath his notice now.

Left alone in the circular space with only the guards and the old sorceress, I did my best to take short breaths to disguise my fast heartbeat.

Whatever they’d planned next had reignited the terror behind Drake’s eyes, but when his gaze met mine, his confusion at my calm shifted to understanding.

Before the sorceress could raise her hand more than a fraction of an inch, Drake resumed thrashing in his restraints.

Two of the guards who’d been standing over him jumped into action to hold him down, but Drake got his leg out from under him.

His powerful kick caved in the armored chest of the nearest guard.

More guards rushed in, their attention entirely on Drake. The lycan on my left sheathed my machete using the belt around their breastplate, and reached to grasp their ax with both gauntlets, probably intending to cut off Drake’s legs if they had to.

They wouldn’t get that far.

Waiting as long as I could—to make sure the Domnitori and Lucian would be far enough away to keep out of earshot—I let go of my restraints.

Relief poured through my aching fingers, doubled when I finally scratched that damned itch and reached for the handle of my machete.

It pulled free from the guard’s belt before the thud of my shackles hit the rug, but I didn’t take my first shot at the guards.

Memories of being made helpless by Ezra’s magick quickened my strides across the carpet toward the old crone, whose thin, wispy white eyebrows puckered with confusion.

Her vision was obscured by the cataracts, but she clearly sensed my intent for ‘first kill.’ When she raised her hands, I slammed the sharpened edge of my blade down over the thin skin of her forearms. Human blood poured from the dismembered wrist, and the sorceress’s mouth opened to form a chord of terror.

Except my blade was shoved through her throat before she could release a note.

Utilizing the momentum of my thrust, I spun, and swung my blade across instead of pulling it out straight—just like Johann had taught me.

It worsened the damage, and the old crone’s head was hanging by half her neck by the time she dropped.

Blood flowed over the steps to the thrones, and I kicked the sorceress’s corpse down them with a booted foot.

The guards seemed stunned, whether by my newfound freedom or how quickly I’d killed someone, I didn’t know.

Everything at the edges of my vision was hazy, but I wouldn’t let the shivering fear sink in.

Weapon readied, I jumped over the body soaking in a puddle of blood, and landed in front of my own warden.

The lycan in armor had to back up to attempt a swing at me with their ax.

Twisting the handle of my machete, I shoved the point upward using both hands and hooked my blade under the helmet before thrusting.

Squelching accompanied baritone gurgles, blood streamed downward, and I withdrew my blade to face the five remaining guards.

Three surrounded Drake, still trying to subdue him while he twisted this way and that under the grasp of two.

The third angled the point of their spear over his heart.

Swallowing a scream, I moved in. The last two guards had stood unsure between measuring the danger I posed and helping the other three with Drake, but my action spurred theirs.

Almost too fast, they advanced to get between me and Drake.

The whisper of a warning in the back of my mind made me duck at the last moment.

A broadsword swung over my head, narrowly brushing the hair at the crown of my skull, and I had to roll aside to avoid the blunt impact of a mace hitting the rug where I’d been a moment ago.

When I jumped back up to my feet, I rushed to parry another swing from the broadsword, trying to force me farther from Drake.

Their blade struck mine, and a shout tore through my throat as I pushed .

Never would I have been able to overpower all of that bulk, but something in the very air of this place strengthened the fibers in my bones.

Especially once I accepted it as mine to wield.

Like the weapon between my hands that forced the armored guard back a step.

Slashing my blade free, I ducked under the arm of the second guard.

They hefted the mace while balancing their shield, but I snuck inside their space.

Where they wouldn’t be able to make a clear hit.

The back of my neck prickled, and I raised my machete over my head to deflect a blow from the guard’s elbow.

Metal skittered off the edge of my blade, but I was past their attempted barricade.

I focused on Drake, tightening my grip on my machete when I glimpsed the spear pinned between his ribs.

At least he’d managed to keep them from piercing his heart.

The damage would heal. I didn’t have time to think about anything else when I leaped for the now weaponless guard.

My chest collided against the guard’s shoulder, and I held on while strengthening my grip on my machete.

I climbed using my free arm, my legs gripping around their armored torso, careening the guard off-balance, and I quickly ripped the helmet off the guard’s head.

Stricken deep green eyes greeted mine. Wonder and sickening peace settled over their haggard features, but I couldn’t stop.

My muscles locked into action, and I slit the lycan’s throat straight across, slicing through flesh and arteries.

Their eyes rolled back fast, the brain now drained of blood.

I scrambled to keep my balance when the body fell from under me.

The two guards I’d managed to evade had caught up, both keeping their weapons between us. Neither dared to reach out.

Metal crunched when I awkwardly rolled off the man I’d killed. One of the guards had brought their mace down, right where I’d been on the dead guard’s back. To my right, Drake aimed a well-timed kick for the back of one of his captor’s knees.

That guard fell, landing hard, and I didn’t waste the opportunity.

With one of their hands attempting to hold Drake down, the other was clumsy with the sword they’d held to his throat—but I was on the other side.

Crouched, I shoved my blade with all my might through the chainmail covering the weak point beneath the shoulder plate.

Links of metal burst from the pressure of my thrust, scattering with tiny pings.

Twisting my wrist as I pushed, my machete’s blade skewered right through the guard’s chest. Three down, three to go.

Except now, Drake had his right hand back.

The chain connecting his shackles stretched taut as he grasped the shaft of the spear.

Hoisting it out from him in a fluid motion before he angled the point and shoved it through the eye-hole of the wolf’s head helmet belonging to the guard beside him.

Even if these guards hadn’t been allowed to use lethal force given the Domnitori’s commands, there wasn’t time to risk, or hope that they would defect on our behalf. Only to take advantage of whatever luck we had left.

Then the remaining two guards reached us, and I stood to meet them. Calm settled into my bones, my higher thinking shut down. I breathed slow when I dodged a swing of the broadsword. They wouldn’t beat me here, not at the steps of my disowned ancestor’s throne.

Chest heaving, I bypassed the guard’s defenses by ducking around their raised shield.

They tried to spin in time, to keep me in front of them, but that damned armor made them slow.

I crouched while the guard kept turning, trying to circle me, and then I dove between their legs to pop back up behind them.

The guard whirled, their weapon with them.

Raising my left forearm to block, I winced at the sting of the broadsword’s edge.

Teeth gritted against the pain, I deflected the oncoming blade, slicing off several layers of my skin down to the muscle.

A burning pulse seared my flesh in its wake.

Maybe they weren’t supposed to kill us, but if it was between being maimed or dealing the death blow, I chose the latter.

With a twist of my thrusting hand, the machete’s blade scraped under the chin guard to blindly skewer the guard through the face.

A slick sound accompanied the withdrawing of my blade.

I lowered my weapon while the guard’s body collapsed in a heap.

Silence descended, and an increasingly familiar shiver caressed my spine.

The sensation drew my gaze to where Drake crouched over the guard he’d taken down.

Blood coated his lips and chin, hovering over the torn neck of the lycan whose helmet had been ripped off along with their head.

Nausea bubbled in the back of my throat, and I staggered a step away as Drake’s figure blurred to reach my side.

Blood coated his fingers, but his steadying hands were gentle. Raven-dark eyes bore into mine, searching for who knew what. Carnage spread out around us. We were the last ones standing.

“Maria?” Drake’s palm caressed my cheek, warmed by blood that wasn’t his, and I jolted. “Are you injured?”

I shook my head, numbly glancing down at his arms, still encased in sigiled iron. My searching gaze flitted over each guard.

“Maria? Your restraints—” Drake’s touch fell away as I retreated to snatch up the keys before shoving them into the mirrored hole.

“They just came apart,” I mumbled, wiggling the key until the lock clicked open.

Freed, Drake tossed the circlets of wrought-iron aside.

His gaze fixed to my face while I averted my eyes from his.

“Come on, we can’t waste time…” I turned, hurrying to the doors framed on either side by the gargoyles.

Drake followed me out on silent footfalls, but then caught my arm when I turned left to follow where the Domnitori had gone.

“Where are you going? The exit will be beyond—”

“One of them has the rings!” I hissed, desperately trying to hold it together. “Where did the scarred one go? Do we have a shot at getting him alone?”

Indecision flickered over Drake’s blood-splattered features. “Most likely… Each member of the Domnitori resides in their own turret. To my memory, his wife is in the endless sleep.”

I frowned. “Endless—”

“Some of our kind choose to ‘sleep’ when they are too cowardly to end their terrible existence more permanently,” he hurried to explain. Then his lips pursed momentarily, expression grim. “This does not mean that taking the rings back will be easy. Please, Maria—”

“You can’t stop me.” I glanced down at where his bloodstained hand touched me. Focusing on my deep inhale, I pushed his hand off. “Either you help me, and we both survive this, or we know what happens next.” I refused to save us only to lose him again, not after this—after everything .

Tears threatened behind my stinging eyes, but my hope surged when his features softened. Nodding once, the hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, the lycan’s blood already drying on them.

“Have I ever once been able to sway your mind?”

“Nope.”

His fingers wove between mine, and this time, I returned the sentiment. A tender tug pulled me into motion, and I started running on aching limbs to delve deeper into the fortress of death.