Page 193 of Blood Curse

I refused to become another hand holding it against him.

If I couldn’t move the blade towards the spring yet, I could turn it against the thing using my body. The Crown needed my pulse, my blood and my voice. Pain made all three harder to control.

Two fingers weren’t much.

They were mine.

Across the hall, the grey-braided woman straightened. One knee left the stone, then the other. The pale band folded her forward, but she braced both hands on the chair and stayed standing.

The man beside her followed. He rose with one hand on the table and blood running over his knuckles.

Another vampire got one foot under her.

Every movement thinned the grip on my fingers.

I pulled the dagger onto my palm.

The cloth protected my skin. That was useful when the blade rested inside Stellan’s coat. It was considerably less useful now.

I turned my hand.

The broken point pressed against the wrapping. I felt its shape through the fabric, jagged and warmed. The Crown tried to lift my wrist away from it.

I pushed down.

Nothing cut.

Fuck.

Mara shifted closer without touching the blade. “Chair leg.”

I couldn’t move my head to look. I could see the dark wooden leg at the edge of my vision and the silver arm above it.

The Crown pulled my hand upwards.

I let it.

The dagger rose with my fingers. When my wrist reached the level of the seat, I twisted hard and drove the wrapped point against the carved wood.

The cloth tore.

Metal broke through.

I closed my palm around it.

Pain sliced across my hand.

The Night Hall vanished in white light.

My body jerked against the chair. Blood filled my palm, hot and immediate, and ran into the cloth around the dagger.

The Crown lost my mouth.

Air tore into my lungs.

“Every vampire in the Night Hall will return to⁠—”

My stolen voice broke off.