Page 53 of The Shard and the Serpent (Shard Daughters #1)

Green Eyes

Warrick

Static buzzes on my tongue. Blue smoke seeps from my mouth.

Teeth scatter like dice.

“Don’t fuck with me,” I growl. “Who sent you to kill The Serpent?”

The face before me is nothing but mottled flesh and swollen-shut eyes. Vomit crusts the corners of the crony’s mouth.

I shake him, and his groan rattles through the penthouse of The Dredge.

The tower hums like it’s alive, power pulsing through its bones in slow, aching waves. It stinks of Volt, a constant film of static clinging to the back of my throat. The floor vibrates with the current we steal from the sky. Lightning-fed coils twist through the walls.

I blink slow, like it’ll help me remember what the hell I’m doing up here.

It keeps fading—who I am, who they are, why I’m beating this poor bastard’s face in.

Then it clicks. Traitor . He’s a traitor.

But unease settles through me because when the fuck have I ever cared about snakes being disloyal to Russell?

Fuck, I’d rather give this man a kiss, not beat his face in.

What’s wrong with me? I pull back, inhaling the thick smoke that hangs throughout the penthouse. Electricity crackles up my nose, my mind buzzing. I grunt, shifting my weight, confusion surging to rage. Traitor. He’s a traitor.

On the balcony, Russell hums. Crooked, off-key. He cuts his name with a knife into the back of the Skin girl sucking him off. She cries around his cock.

My nails dig into the crony’s bruised shoulder, my eyes locked on her dark hair and scared, green eyes. A headache ignites behind my eyes, and I grit my teeth, leaning back and bashing my fist forward.

“Give me a fucking name,” I seethe, saliva and blood drooping from the traitor’s mouth.

Vandem grips my shoulder. “Easy, Heir. We need him alive to get answers.”

My gaze goes unfocused, and I shake out my hair, the strands still damp from my earlier rounds among the streets. Chrome Guards and cronies have been taking shifts more often, scouring for the brilliant minds dismantling Russell’s nests.

Brilliant minds? I rub my temples and stalk to the table.

Serpents and Chrome Guards crowd it, their armor unlatched, sleeves rolled to the elbow.

Volt glints in every crease of their gear—vials stashed behind belts, syringes jammed under sleeves, faint halos of light veining their necks from recent hits.

“Idiots,” I murmur and pluck a vial of Volt from the communal pile at the center of the table. I fumble through my pockets for a lighter before Vandem tosses me a syringe. I catch it and toss it back.

“I don’t fuck with putting that shit in my veins,” I tell him. “You all are forgetting this drug was Ezma’s. I don’t doubt there’s side effects, and I’m not about to grow an extra set of fucking eyes.”

Vandem chucks a lighter at me. “There’s nothing like a hit to the vein, Ivor.” He eyes me with the same suspicion he’s given me since I left Fang’s Edge yesterday and came to stay here.

To his credit, I’m not entirely sure what made me want to come stay in this shithole either, other than the fact I’m tired of waiting for dear old dad to pass the baton.

I’m sure as fuck not letting Vandem steal my chance at securing the Bossdom.

I’ve promised a shit ton of Skin that I plan on giving them a better life, and I don’t make promises I don’t keep.

Skin? I’m saving Skin? Why? A sharp sting pinches up the back of my neck and into the base of my skull. Hands trembling, I flick the lighter with a metallic ting and heat the base of the pipe. An uneasy breath escapes me as blue blooms and Volt sizzles up the glass body, scorching through my mouth.

I close my eyes. I shouldn’t smoke this shit, but I can’t help it. Any time I do, I see something.

Shadows.

They flicker at the back of my mind. Hidden commands ripple forward. Punish me. Hunt me. I frown, pipe pinched between my teeth, and flex my injured hand. It’s raw from interrogating disloyal scum, but Volt helps. Remember me. Forget me.

I collapse into a velvet chaise.

“Blood,” Russell snaps his fingers at my boots.

I puff on the pipe, ignoring The Serpent as he finishes in the Skin’s mouth. He sends her to me, and I snap open my belt, then stop.

My chest tightens. My gut recoils.

“Fuck it. I’m fine.” I wave the girl off, but part of me wants to grab her and tow her the fuck out of here. My heart hammers, and I stand.

Then the Commander of the Chrome Guard grabs the girl by the back of the neck and situates on the couch across from me. He whips his dick out and she gets to work.

“I changed my mind,” I say, moving toward Vandem.

The evil asshole raises his Serpent blade to the back of the girl’s neck as she bobs up and down on his cock. “Wait your turn,” he growls. “You had your chance.”

I turn away.

My head and heart throb. I take a longer drag of Volt, but nothing helps. I grab my half chugged bottle of ale from the floor and tilt it back, desperate to make the pinching sensation in my temples stop.

The crony we interrogated sits unconscious in his chair. He’s not even strapped in, lazy fucker. It’s boring when they don’t even try to escape.

Why did I hurt him? I scowl and study my bloodied knuckles.

“Devils, Warrick.” Russell stumbles through the apartment. “Nests dead. Skin stolen. No allies. Little devils in the reflections. They’re coming. They’re here,” he shouts.

“It’s nap time,” I grumble and guzzle the last bit of ale. “Go to bed.”

A hard fist grabs me by the throat and pins me to the couch. Senses dulled from the ale, I’m slow to react, and a knife lines with my gut.

“You don’t command me, Heir,” my father’s stale breath fans over my face.

I move for my blade sheathed at my waist but he digs the knife into my stomach.

“Can’t kill me without my Yield,” he spits, his saliva dripping down my cheek. “And I don’t Yield to betrayers. It could be you in the mirrors.”

I grit my teeth. “You think I’d sit here and waste my time bashing teeth in if I’m disloyal? Hate to break it to you, dad , but I’d just slit your Godsdamn throat. You’re not worth any additional effort.”

“You’re my blood. You want power.” Russell tugs back and swivels into a kill shot toward the crony I was interrogating. His knife strikes into the guy’s temple.

“No, shit,” I spit. “Yield. Let me end your misery. You’ve already got your mind in the grave. I can easily add the rest of your head.”

Russell kicks at the murdered crony. “Find a woman. Green eyes. Dark hair.” He yanks a vial of Volt from his pocket and takes a long drag from his pipe. “Yes, a woman.”

Then he snatches a Volt-filled syringe from the floor and jabs it in his thigh.

“Assassin,” he growls. “ Bitch .”

I shiver, a strange sensation itching at the back of my skull. Green eyes . I rip up from the couch. Green. Eyes. My pipe and ale drop to the floor with a hard clatter against tile.

“You know what?” Vandem stands, shoving the Skin girl away. “I think you should take it straight to the vein, Ivor.”

My brows pull together. I’m about to tell him to fuck off before something sharp pinches the back of my arm.

I swivel around, Vandem holding a syringe. “Did you just—” I choke.

My back slams against the wall, teeth bared, every nerve seized in an electric recoil. I convulse. My boots scrape uselessly, trying to stand my ground. I bite into my tongue. My vision floods white, then black.

My skull splits open behind my eyes.

“What the fuck did you—” I can’t finish the sentence. The words melt in my mouth.

“You know, I wasn’t sure. You almost had me, but only Russell has that kind of reaction to this shit, and he rocks himself to sleep, pissing himself,” Vandem snarls, standing over me. “That woman. She got to you, too, didn’t she?”

A soft whisper caresses my mind. Shattered memories try to stitch only to be blown apart by cracks of Volt. My hands shake. My head snaps to a mirror in the corner, and I force myself off the ground.

“Grab him,” Vandem orders Serpents.

Cronies wrench my arms and drag me away from the mirror, but I can’t look away, drool spilling from my mouth, my head lulling as my limbs go limp.

It’s surface is dark. There’s nothing there. Nothing.

Green eyes.

REMEMBER —the command screeches through my mind.

My body jerks. My gut claws . I press my lips together in a hard hum, the vibration through my vocal chords focusing me away from the pain sprouting through my skull. Electricity snarls and snaps over my skin.

MY. SOLDIER.

I rip my blade from its sheathe.

FOR. ALWAYS—

Red speckles on my skin. Red puddles on the floor.

Kill? Or kill and be adored by her .

Metal clangs. My muscles quake. Pivot and dip and cut cut cut CUT—

Dead snakes. Bad snakes. All of them.

There’s magic in my gut. A small thing. A mighty thing. A screaming thing.

I plunge my blade into bright chrome. Pain slices against my calf. A fist smashes into my ribs. My blade clatters somewhere.

Then the glass . The broken glass on the floor. The cracked mirror in the corner. The windows. Every reflection— green eyes .

From their depths, arrows sing. Shiny steel slices through the voids between stars, landing in eyes.

Throats.

Ears.

Necks.

Skulls.

I smile, and a fist slams into my teeth.

“Fucking filth,” Vandem roars and slams his fist into my face again.

I laugh. Choke. Stretch my fingers toward the hilt of my blade.

“Blood Betrayer,” he hisses. “Going against Serpents. Tearing your city apart and all of our alliances. What did you think would happen? Russell would Yield and no one else would claim this city?”

His knuckles slam against my cheek, and my gaze whips to the side.

Assassins in glittering black masks fight. A spear. A whip. A bow and arrow. Blood drips from my brow into my eye.

“Synlon deserves strong leadership, not two mad men. So take a good, hard look, Ivor. This is the end of your legacy.”

Red. So much red.

But not his. Not yet.

His fist lifts—

An arrow presses against his temple.

“Hit him again,” an angel commands, pretty blood-smeared lips the only thing visible, the rest of her face hidden behind her mask. “I fucking dare you.”

Vandem snarls, his raised arm and fist shaking. The veins along his temple and neck bulge.

“You can’t, can you?” she whispers, her lips curling with a dark smile.

Slowly, I raise onto my elbows, sprawled between dismembered limbs, shattered glass, and broken armor. Vandem pins me, straddling my hips.

“Get. Off. Him,” she commands.

Electricity sparks off Vandem in large spikes. His fist slams an inch toward me, then it catches again, an invisible barrier stopping him.

My angel’s arrow wavers. Her fingers shake. “GET. OFF.”

Finally, he swings. Not at me. At her .

Vandem’s arm lurches into motion, lightning cracking out from his skin in a web of veins as he lifts from my waist. His fist punches into her stomach, and she shoots back with a cry, her bow and arrow flying with her.

It happens so fast and yet so fucking slow. My body feels heavy, like I can’t get up fast enough. The seconds drag by, her eyes wide behind her mask. Her lips are moving. Her knuckles are glowing. Blood spills from her nose, and all the Volt in the air explodes .

Serpents flee, Vandem and Russell with them. Everyone else is down. Red. Fangs.

I remember them.

The two Daughters are disoriented, but they aren’t out cold like the others. They’re trying to get up, to catch my angel, too, but it’s like we all move impossibly slow, reaching and reaching, fucking screaming.

“Rayze!” The name rips from me as I lunge.

Her back shatters through the window. Her body folds in on itself. Glass digs into her skin. Her eyes fall shut.

Then she drops into the night—

And I plunge after her.