Page 75

Richard’s eyes darted to a door across the room, and I didn’t hesitate. I lunged toward it. My fingers wrapped around the handle, but Richard’s arm locked around my shoulders, yanking me back. As I fell, I kicked out, pushing against the door and sending us crashing backward. I landed on top of Richard, sinking my long canines into the man’s arm, which was banded across my chest. I shook my head violently, tearing a chunk of flesh and making Richard lose his grip.

Rolling to the side, I scrambled back to my feet. Richard got up just as quickly, shaking his injured arm, sending droplets of blood flying.

The vampire appeared unfazed by the gaping hole in his arm, ready to reengage. I obliged, charging at him, wrapping my arms around his waist, lifting him, and slamming his body onto the wooden floorboards. I followed him down and, this time, sank my teeth into his neck. But Richard was strong and managed to push me off. As I was pushed away, I ripped out another hunk of skin and muscle, and blood flowed freely from the new wound.

Richard rose to his feet once more, clutching his neck with his uninjured arm. He backed toward the fireplace, eyes locked on me. I charged him again, the blood in my mouth fueling my frenzy. I bared my fangs and roared as I drew closer.

Curling my fingers into claws, I lunged for the man’s head. As I raked Richard’s face with my sharp nails, a searing pain shot through my gut and knocked the wind out of me. I looked down to see the handle of a wrought-iron poker protruding from my abdomen. I stumbled back, gripping the handle with both hands.

The pain was nearly overwhelming. Blood poured out around the iron rod. The poker’s head had done serious damage. I knew I had to remove it before my body closed around it and trapped it. I gritted my teeth and pulled. Inch by inch, I slid my hands along the blood-slicked metal, adjusted my grip, and pulled again until the object fell to the floor with a clatter. Richard, meanwhile, was bent over, wiping blood from his only remaining eye.

Panting, I picked up the poker with a trembling hand and, clutching it with both fists, brought it down with all my strength onto Richard’s blond head. The man crumpled to the ground and didn’t rise. I took a few shallow breaths, pressing a hand against the wound that still oozed blood. The pain tore through me with every movement, but I knew I wasn’t done yet. I bent down, opened my blood-covered hands, and wrenched Richard’s battered head from his body. I tossed the gruesome object into the fireplace. Sparks flew as it landed among the logs, and bright yellow flames leaped as the hair caught fire. The fire popped and sputtered, expanding, but I didn’t linger to watch.

I turned and rushed to the door to the level below. My hands slipped on the knob, but I managed to open it and raced down the stairs. It wasn’t hard to pinpoint where they were. Nathaniel’s voice came from down the hall, along with my mate’s heavy, ragged breathing. The sound of Julian’s distress electrified me, and I reached the door halfway down the hall, ripped it off its hinges, and tossed it aside. Despite my frenzy, the scene that greeted me froze me in place.

43

JULIAN

My hands and knees hit the floor in the darkened room. I tried to scramble to my feet, but my aching arms and dizziness worked against me, and I fell over, landing hard on my side. Nathaniel had closed the door after shoving me inside, and I prayed he’d locked me in here, alone in the dark. The click of a lighter behind me doused that brief hope.

Pushing myself up, I scooted backward, away from Nathaniel and the lantern he’d lit and set on a dresser against the wall. I was in a bedroom, sitting on the floor at the foot of a bed. Running was out of the question. I knew I wouldn’t even make it halfway to the door before he caught me.

He walked calmly around the room, lighting half a dozen candles. I was pretty sure this was his room, and my stomach dropped. I was completely at his mercy.

“Nathaniel,” I said. “Can we talk?”

Nathaniel scoffed and set down the candle he was lighting. “What could we possibly have to talk about?”

“Help me,” I pleaded. “Come with me, and we’ll go find Vincent. Maybe the three of us can work this⁠—”

“Shut up,” he snapped, cutting me off. He rushed at me, and before I could flinch, he hauled me off the floor by the front of my shirt. “Don’t say his name,” he growled in my face. He might have looked better than last time I saw him, but he was just as deranged. “You’re mine now. For as long as I let you live.” His nostrils flared, and his brown eyes hardened. “You reek of him.”

He shoved me to the side, throwing me onto the bed. I knew my odds, but I wasn’t going to make this easy for him. If he was going to kill me anyway, I’d rather he do it sooner than after whatever he had planned. I rolled across the bed, grabbed a lamp from the bedside table, and threw it at Nathaniel. As I slid off the side of the bed, I crashed into a desk, scattering papers and books across the floor.

Nathaniel batted the lamp aside and gave me a vicious grin. “You want to play?” he asked before launching himself at me. He shoved me face down against the desk and wrenched my head to the side.

I knew what was coming, but my skin still prickled, and a wave of revulsion washed over me as his fangs sank into the side of my neck. My cheek was pressed to the desktop, my arms out to the sides. I groped for something to smash over his head when my fingers brushed cold metal. My fist closed around the handle of a small knife, and I swung wildly, trying to catch Nathaniel on the side of the head.

He caught my hand before I made contact, ripping his fangs from my throat as his fingers crushed my grip on the knife. I screamed in pain and opened my hand, letting the knife clatter to the floor.

When my scream ended, Nathaniel froze for a moment, then hurled me to the floor beside the bed. He bent to pick up the knife as I scrambled for the door. He yanked me back again, wrapping an arm around my neck. We came to rest on the floor beside the bed. I could no longer struggle; he had me completely subdued. Beside my ragged breathing, thumps and banging came from above.

“We’ve run out of time,” Nathaniel said, sounding tired.

It took me a moment to process what he meant. Vincent.

Vincent was here.

“Now let’s get this over with,” he said, pressing the blade of the knife to my throat.

44

VINCENT

The bedroom before me was a mess, lit by the few candles that hadn’t been knocked over and a sputtering lamp. Objects were scattered everywhere. A table lay on its side, and the mattress was pushed halfway off the bed.

In the middle of it all were Julian and Nathaniel.