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“What were you trying to do?” I hissed. She winced at my harsh tone. I glanced over my shoulder to see if Violet had heard Cora’s cry. Luckily, she was at the opposite end of the room, curtseying in front of a tall, thin man whom I vaguely recognized as the Lord Mayor of London.
“I’m sorry!” Cora whispered, the color draining from her face. She pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and twisted it in her hands, staring intently at the fabric instead of me. “I don’t know what came over me. I just saw Violet and was so happy to see her… I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” I said. I shot Damon a look. The plan was still in place. Everything would be fine.
“He’s right,” Damon said. “You weren’t even that loud. I’ve heard Stefan scream louder at his own shadow,” Damon quipped.
A glimmer of a smile crossed Cora’s face. I suppose she felt that if Damon and I were still engaging in civil banter, everything would be all right. She puffed out her cheeks and exhaled. “Do you think she knows I’m here?” she asked, her eyes searching mine.
“Vampires have good senses, but they aren’t telepathic. They can’t tell where someone else is unless they hear or see them,” I explained. “Now, please remember that the quieter you are, the better chance we have of getting Violet.” I locked eyes with her and nodded, reassuring her that we could still do this. Her determined expression reminded me so much of Oliver’s when he would try to convince me to take him hunting that my heart clenched.
I looked back at the crowd. Violet was still deep in conversation with the Lord Mayor, but Samuel had left her side. I saw that he was now clasping hands with Sister Benedict, only a few paces away from me. I froze, panic setting in as I imagined him asking about the pair of monks who weren’t on the approved invitee list.
But then, Sister Benedict ushered him into the crowd of Asylum girls. He tapped one on the shoulder. She was stocky, with brown hair that grazed her shoulders and large, doelike brown eyes.
I sucked in my breath as I placed a warning hand on Damon’s shoulder. I didn’t trust him not to try to surprise Samuel. But he stayed by my side silently. One by one, Samuel picked his victims and escorted them toward the back of the ballroom.
“It’s time,” I whispered to Cora.
She nodded, her large eyes shining. “Good luck.”
I smiled confidently. I didn’t need luck anymore. I had a foolproof plan and revenge-hungry Damon on my side. Now all we needed to do was fight for our freedom.
12
Damon and I hurried after Samuel, following him into the cavernous servant area across from the ballroom. Moss grew from crevices in the walls, and the hallway smelled damp—almost like a swamp. Samuel had ducked out of sight into one of the wooden doors dotting either side of the hall. I had no idea where he could be. I tested one of doorknobs. Locked.
I zigzagged farther down the corridor, putting my weight against each door until I heard a blood-curdling, otherworldly scream coming from the far end of the hall. It echoed in my bones and made me certain the plan had worked. Anticipation buzzed in my veins.
“Ready, brother?” Damon whispered. His eyes were red with anger. We ran, side by side, following the sound of the cry.
Damon used his brute strength to bust through the locked door. Inside, Samuel lay on the ground, writhing and clutching his gut as if his insides were on fire. Surrounding him were four terrified and bewildered Asylum girls. One girl was clutching her neck as blood seeped through her fingers, while the other three were gathered around her. The four whitewashed walls were empty except for a single wooden cross, and a lone candle burned on a wooden table, casting an eerie glow on the scene. We were far enough away from the party that no one could hear us, which I suppose was why Samuel had chosen this room in the first place. He’d probably brought girls here during every Magdalene Asylum fund-raising ball.
“Run!” I barked to the girls. They didn’t need any more urging. One by one, they took off down the corridor. I wondered what they would say to Sister Agatha, but brushed the thought away. We were on borrowed time, and I knew it was imperative we kill Samuel right away.
He was completely at our mercy, and we were ready to strike.
“Not so powerful now, are you?” Damon sneered, reaching into the folds of his cloak for a wooden cross he must have been planning to use as a stake. He let loose a low, demonic laugh and I stepped back. I may have been after Samuel’s life, but Damon seemed to be after something more. He wasn’t just intending to kill Samuel. He was intending to torture him.
“You think you can destroy me with that?” Samuel gasped, mustering a weak laugh.
Just as Damon reared back, ready to strike, Samuel lunged to his feet, pushing him against the wall. The cross clattered to the floor. I grabbed it, slashing at the air. But Samuel’s quick movement had extinguished the candle lighting the room, and as we were plunged into darkness, Samuel struck. I felt a searing pain below my knee and staggered onto my back, suddenly unable to move. A st
ake was jutting out from under my kneecap.
I couldn’t muster the strength to pull myself into a seated position to yank it out. I twisted, trying to get a view of the room. Samuel and Damon were circling each other. Damon’s jaw was clenched and blood was running down his face.
Kill him, I willed. No torture. Just strike. You don’t have time.
In my pain, I couldn’t be sure whether I was saying the words or merely thinking them. But I heard Damon’s low, mocking laugh.
“Ready to be revealed as a monster? What will Lord Ainsley think? Better call in all your political favors now,” Damon said. “Unless I just kill you. Take you off their hands.”
Just kill him, I thought desperately.
Samuel turned toward me—that time, I’d spoken aloud. “I’m afraid your brother won’t be killing me,” he said evenly as he pulled a glittering, jewel-encrusted knife from his jacket. The sound of sizzling flesh assaulted my ears; I could tell the knife had been dipped in vervain.
“Damon!” I yelled, but it was too late. Samuel took the knife and shoved it into Damon’s abdomen. Blood immediately seeped through his robes.
