I need all the strength I can get.
But still she felt no different. No tingle on her skin, no light rushing through her. No swelling of her muscles, nor a sense of indomitable will.Fuck.
She turned to Eve. “It’s not worki—”
The bedroom door exploded inward, sending Noah flying across the room to crash into the wall. His skull hit with a brutal crack, and he collapsed, unmoving.
“I thought it would take me ages to find you,” came a bright, peppy voice, and Nico stepped in. “But that thrall breathes soloudly, I could hear him over the ruckus below.” He winked at Cally. “How nice to see you again.”
Oh, shit.Not him.Her first instinct was to pull on her bond to Antoine. She needed him,now.
Noah was tough. That wouldn’t have killed him, would it? She dragged her eyes from his unconscious form, focusing on the threat.
Nico was dressed in gray slacks, shirt, with a long gray coat, and Cally couldn’t help but think he was copying Antoine’s style—in gray. It was a strange, dissociated thought, like she watched impartially from across the room. Instead, she sat frozen on the bed, staring at his smirk.
“How did you get out of the Order’s cell?” she blurted. Back in the bunker, his first words to her had been that he would kill her when he got out. And here he was, with nothing to stop him.
“My stay was brief,” he said smugly. “My sire knew where I was, and came straight for me.”
Two thralls stepped past him, checking the room for threats. But there weren’t any. Noah was unconscious; Eve backed into the corner, her eyes fearful and her hand over her mouth.
“He would like to see you,” Nico added, as if it were an invitation to high tea. “When I told him about you, he wasmostcurious.”
“What interest could he possibly have in a chattel?” Cally asked, stalling for time. She climbed off the bed, positioning herself between the thralls and Eve.
“Nice try, but I saw you with the Order, the night I felt your magic. I know what you are.” His eyes narrowed. “Roberto understands your value.”
“Roberto?” Cally echoed, with a thrill of fear. “Roberto’s your sire?”
Where was Antoine? Why wasn’t he already on his way? Cally focused on her bond, pushing with all her will.I need you!
“Obviously,” Nico drawled as if bored. He gestured. “Bring her.”
Both thralls closed in on her, hands reaching out to grab her arms.
“No!” Eve cried, rushing at the one on Cally’s left, even as Cally swiveled on her heel, hips snapping open. Her leg flashed up in a tight arc, the ball of her foot catching her target square beneath the chin, a clean hit.
She knew she was stronger than normal thralls; she’d demonstrated it in Minh’s nightclub, and Antoine had later confirmed it. But she still wasn’t prepared for what happened.
The thrall’s head whipped back like it wasn’t a foot under his chin, but a cannon. His neck crunched loudly and he flew up into the air, arms flailing wide, eyes unseeing. He struck the ceiling at the peak of his arc, then fell toward Nico, who barely twisted aside in time as the body crashed to the floor.
Everyone in the room froze, staring at Cally, who slowly lowered her foot, as shocked as the rest of them. Her spellhadworked!
Nico reacted first, blurring forward, his hand closing around Cally’s neck. “Impressive,” he said, as his fingers squeezed tight, crushing her throat. “But that was merely a thrall. How does your strength compare to that of a vampire?”
Antoine!Cally grasped at Nico’s wrist as he lifted her like she weighed nothing, her head forced up, her toes scrabbling at the carpet beneath her. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t find the leverage to throw an effective blow. She tried anyway, kicking out at him, but he just ignored her effort and laughed.
But that was instinctive, and she knew better.Pry at the thumb. It was like Joon’s voice from the beyond instructing her, as he had for so many years. Her grip shifted on his wrist, pulling down as she twisted, wrenching sideways at the gap in his grip. Spell-fed strength surged through her arms, and he cursed as his fingers tore loose. She dropped, one foot grounding on the floor, knee bending, balance flooding back. And that was enough.
She drove a strike at him, the blow born out of anger, fear, and desperation. He was still faster. He blocked with his forearm, diverting her blow so it caught low in his side with most of the impact dispersed. He took a pace back, curling his lip. “Time to go. Help me with this one.”
Eve braced against the thrall beside her, trying to keep him from Cally despite her diminutive size.
The thrall lifted his hand. Cally could see it coming, but was powerless to stop it—she’d given herself strength, not speed. He backhanded Eve; her head snapped to the side, her neck twisting with a crack that cut through the room. She spun from the blow, slammed into her chair, then crumpled to the carpet, lifeless and limp.
“No!” Cally screamed, the sound torn from her. For a breath, she stood frozen, her vision narrowing to Eve’s unmoving form, the terrible stillness of a body that shouldn’t be still. Disbelief and a raw, hot grief crowded her throat until she couldn’t breathe. Then rage, pure and unadulterated. She stepped in and drove her fist forward with all the power she could muster. It wasn’t a technique, it was sheer brutality, and it landed solidly in the center of the thrall’s chest. His ribs shattered beneath the blow. He staggered back, chest caved and breath crushed, jaw slack as he lifted his gaze to her, then his legs buckled and he collapsed hard onto the floor.
Cally ignored him, leaping for Eve, but a hand grasped her arm, stopping her in mid-motion.
