Page 38 of The Vampire's Mercy

Maybe keep your mouth shut!

Hal whimpered again, moving his attention to me. “I told him your name.”

My stomach twisted. “You…did?”

“A pleasure to meet you, Paris Raine,” Silvanus said. “Or should that be Executioner 6710?”

One hand dropped from the bars. I didn’t have a comeback for him, too shocked at the info he had on me already.

The prick must have tortured poor Hal. It was okay, I wouldn’t blame my friend for this. Aidan only knew what I’d do in the same situation.

Aim a kick at his family jewels?

“And?” the king said.

Man, I hated that my friend had aggressive spells at his command that were useless against any vampire. Especially this prick.

Hal sighed, eyes shutting again. “I told him how you… Oh, shite. I’m so sorry, Paris. I…I told him how executioners hide their blood.”

My other hand dropped as I sagged with defeat. This was knowledge the vampire king would now use against us. Find an antidote to the mage potion Suzanne and her team of mages hadconcocted to shield our blood—a complex formula of spider silk, vampire bone dust, and stewed apples.

Shit, Hal. What were you thinking?

But I still couldn’t be mad. I had no idea what he’d just been through. What threats hung over his head. Another mage group would find a new potion. This wasn’t the end. The rebellion would never die.

“Now, for the best part,” Silvanus said. “The choice.”

“What choice?” I asked, dread arriving with a grim hello.

The vampire smiled, throwing an arm around Hal. “Your dear friend here is going to decide which one of you lives, and which one of you will have his insides ripped out.”

I felt myself pale, gagging once again.

Hal collapsed to his knees, letting out a wail. “Not…” He coughed.

“Kill me,” I said. “Don’t hurt?—”

“Paris!” Hal squealed. “Kill Paris! I don’t want to die!”

That was a sharp shock to my body and mind, the rug officially pulled out from beneath me.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

PARIS

My friend broke down into hysterical sobbing as I hacked my guts up, betrayal worse than any rotting flowers.

Did he really just say that?

Did he just condemn me to death to save his own skin?

I fell back, unable to stay upright, the back of my head cushioned by the dead flowers.

He wouldn’t do this to me. Not Hal. Never him. No. I’d imagined it. I mean, I’d already offered myself up in his place. I’d die, no problem. Well, it was a problem, but I wouldn’t allow Hal to die in my place.

So, yeah. My brain was playing tricks.

Right?