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I nearly stumbled. Who had been their leaders that these angels had such hatred toward Seraphim? Zander and I treated our team like a family. But one of them still betrayed you, a voice said in the back of my mind. And Zander wouldn’t kneel to save Tank and Otis. No. There had to be a good reason.
When I limped and dragged behind, the soldier with curly hair, who had stabbed me with a spear, shoved me forward. To break my fall, I took quick steps, and that movement tugged at my wound. I hissed and rested my arm over my belly, my chin held high.
Out of the tunnel, light penetrated through a crystal ceiling, bright enough to make me squint. We passed through a hallway and the soldiers pushed through a grand door. There was no one behind it.
I took in a large space with long curtains that covered the back wall. The soldier with curly hair shoved me down, but I used my hands to break the fall, cuffs clanking on the stone floor.
I tried to stand and the same soldier shoved me down again. I growled and though I had no fangs, I hissed and bared my teeth.
“What do we have here?” said a male with a big belly, though when he sat taller, his stomach didn’t protrude as much.
I peered up, surprised to hear a voice. The curtain had split in the middle and pushed away toward the wall on either side, and three vampires sat on thrones on a raised podium. I’d heard no rustling of the fabric opening, nor footsteps. They seemed to have just materialized.
Three vampires. I swallowed hard. Fear bubbled inside my stomach, but I would not show it. I straightened my posture.
Victus sat in the middle, his eyes flickering crimson. He gripped the armrest so hard it looked about to break off. Abacus glared at me, but the third one with a rounder face and a belly was someone new. It was his voice that greeted me.
They were not brothers. They looked nothing alike, but they shared the same dark hair and brown eyes.
“What do you want with me?” I tried to stand, but the same soldier with curly hair pushed his hand down on my shoulder and my knee slammed against the stone.
“I didn’t say you could stand, Seraphim.” Abacus, who had been somewhat decent to me, was now cold as his heart.
“That’s not my name,” I said with a cool even tone. “It’s Evangeline. I came in peace. To team up with you to bring down Asmodeus, whom you want to dethrone. So why are you treating me like I’m your enemy?”
“Don’t act like you don’t know, feather bitch,” the unnamed vampire said.
I clenched my jaw. I’d enough of their rudeness. “Let me remind you again. My name is Evangeline. I don’t call you big belly vampire, do I?”
Abacus made a strange sound, while Victus said nothing and held a cold stone expression that hadn’t changed since I walked in. The unnamed vampire on the other hand, let his nails lengthen, his irises blazing with anger.
The air stirred and swirled, then fingers gripped my neck from behind me and lifted me to stand. I thought about throwing my hands over my head and hitting him with my cuffs. Then I could run to the door. But then what? There was nowhere to hide. Best not to do something stupid.
“Let me introduce myself properly.” His hot breath brushed my earlobe as he pressed my back to his chest. “My name is Markane.” He licked my neck where a vein pulsed. “And I’m going to pluck out every single feather, one by one. I heard it feels like being burned alive.”
I snarled. “You heard wrong. Now, get your filthy hands off me, vermin.”
Markane hissed and tilted my neck sideways. Just as something sharp pressed on my skin, Victus barked out a command, “Stop! Don’t touch her.”
I wanted to think he had changed his mind and to team up was the reason he had protected me, but I knew better.
If Victus had been a second later, Markane’s teeth would have pierced through my skin. I didn’t know if a vamp could turn a Seraphim into a likeness of them, but I didn’t want to find out. Markane grunted as he shoved me and I stumbled sideways.
Markane walked up the three-foot podium. “You’re no fun,” he said to Victus and plopped on his seat like a spoiled child.
Abacus shifted in his seat, snorting. “Control yourself. We need her to remain unspoiled.”
Victus tossed his hands and placed them back down on the throne armrest. “That was a waste of time. The physician has enough of her blood. Why did you want to hold this meeting?”
They took my blood? Of course they did. When? When a soldier stabbed me with a spear and locked me up. The reason why the little girl asked if angel blood could cure or kill vampires.
“Why do you need my blood?” I asked. “Is anyone sick?”
Markane leaned back and crossed his legs. “You don’t get to ask questions, little feathered bitch. You’re our prisoner and we do what we please with you.”
I scoffed, itching to release my wings and beat him with them. “Don’t underestimate my height or count me out because I’m female. Believe me, there’s nothing little about what I can do. And you should be wise with the words you choose, Tiny Dick.”
Victus clutched Markane’s tunic and held him in place. Markane halfway out of his seat snarled, snapping his teeth.
