Gunfire cracked from within, muzzle flashes marking hurried shots. But he was already behind the soldier, one hand shoving his weapon high while the other ripped out his throat. Belle flashed past in a blur of maroon, disappearing within.
“Find Nico!” Antoine shouted, giving Cally a wink. Then he was gone, and she was left alone in the entry hallway as gunfire echoed sporadically deeper within the house.
It looked like the sort of place the Order would choose: high ceilings, wide staircases, a wrought-iron chandelier. Tasteful, yet edging toward the gothic. More what she would’ve expected from a vampire’s abode, ironically. She would’ve smiled at the thought, but with the bodies outside and fighting still echoing through the house, her mood had turned grim. Being left alone didn’t help either; it was eerie.
Antoine was back in minutes, and she was glad to see him. “The house is clear. Do you know where the basement entrance is?”
She forced herself to stay steady. “I’m sorry, I don’t.”
“It’s here,” Belle called from up ahead.
“After you.” Antoine gestured gracefully, and she followed the sound of Belle’s voice past a large study, a living room, and down a wood-paneled hallway.
Belle waited beside a door that had been yanked off its hinges, revealing a flight of steps beyond. As soon as she caught sight of them, she disappeared again, and from beneath came more gunfire and then a scream, cut off abruptly.
“Stay close,” Antoine reminded her, slowing to a more human pace as they descended.
The white-painted concrete walls were now smeared with blood, and bodies lay in pools of crimson on the floor.
These were humans, not thralls. She felt a wave of nausea.
But she forced it down. They were holding Eve, and would’ve hurt her at Darian’s orders.
“Another staircase,” Belle called from ahead. “Do try and keep up.”
“Are you all right,ma chérie?”
“Yes, I’m fine,” Cally said, clenching her jaw and lifting her chin. “Don’t wait. Go and get Eve for me, Antoine.”Shit.“I mean… do what you want. Please. Always do what you want.”
He stilled, searching her eyes, then reached up and brushed his fingers against her cheek. “You have always held the power to command me,ma chérie. If such magic has to exist, I would entrust it to no one else. Now, I will go and find your friend andmaybe help Belle. She will be insufferable if she kills them all by herself.”
He was gone an instant later, the air rushing in where he’d been a heartbeat before. Cally stared after him, her hand on her cheek where the feel of his touch still lingered.
The path was lined with bodies, and she had to step over more than one. Sightless, staring eyes, necks twisted awry, throats bloody and torn. The air reeked of blood and the sharp chemical tang of burned propellant, cloying her throat. She fought the nausea and kept moving. Down the next set of stairs, past smashed open doors and empty rooms, bullet holes in neat lines along the walls. So many dead, all of them brutally and efficiently killed, none merely injured. The carnage was absolute, the full rage of two powerful vampires unleashed.
She found them on the next floor, amid more corpses. They’d stopped outside the door to Nico’s cell, and were waiting for her. Belle’s dress was torn in several places, showing more skin. She was wounded too; a bullet had grazed her abdomen and another had lodged in her thigh, though neither seemed to faze her.
“What’s in here?” Antoine asked.
“Nico’s cell.”
“Huh,” he grunted. “That’s where the rest of them will be.”
“They’ll be waiting for you,” Cally said. “Couldn’t we leave him?”
“If Darian is anywhere, he’ll be in there.” Antoine nodded to the door. His gaze lingered on the bruises marking her face. “I should introduce myself.”
Belle gripped the handle and flashed her fangs at Cally. “Stand back, if you don’t mind.”
Cally retreated down the hallway and pressed to the concrete wall. Antoine moved a few paces with her, then stood ready. Belle waited until they were in position, then pulled the handle. The door crashed back with force, but she kept pulling even as it hit the end of its runner, jerking it loose of its mountings. Automatic weapons opened in a barrage, peppering the wall through the opening with holes, the fire gradually slackening as the soldiers realized no one was there.
Belle held the door like a shield, and charged through the opening. At some point she had kicked off her heels, for her bare feet slapped the floor like a drum roll. Antoine was after her just as fast.
Cally longed to risk a look, but the guns had started up again, and stray bullets still struck the wall near her. A deafening clang marked Belle’s impromptu shield colliding with something solid. More screams, cut off with the sickening crunches of vampiric kills. Within seconds, all was quiet.
“Good evening, Nico,” Antoine said.
“Outcast bastard.”
