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His beady eyes search for me as he struggles to rise.Still conscious, then.I throw myself on top of him before he can sit up, bracing his bad arm to the ground with my knee. He tries to swing at me with the emerald blade again, but I catch his hand with both of mine.
It takes every ounce of strength I have ever possessed to turn the blade back toward him. He grunts from the strain of fighting me, but his eyes widen in defeat. He’s already lost, and he knows it as well as I do.
Despite his age, he is deceptively strong. An eternity passes before I manage to angle the blade where I want it to go. The moment freezes while I relive every single nightmare the bastard has starred in for the past nine years.
For the life he stole from me. For that cursed night. For every cut, every bruise, every scar and memory and nightmare he inflicted on me. For every innocent life he has poured out down his bloodstained drain, I give a final push and plunge the blade deep into his neck.
He lets out a shrill cry as I dig the blade deeper into his twisted soul.
Only when tears are streaming down my face and his grip loosens do I finally find the strength to back away from him.
Chapter Sixty-Four
Zaina
Once I assure myself that Dvain is truly dead, I force myself to stand on trembling legs and rush over to the pile of broken vials in the corner of the room.
I crouch down, the dagger still clenched in my fist. I need to figure out what exactly has the others in its thrall before they all kill each other. Grunts and clashes of steel ring out in tandem with Khijhana’s roars and the screech of her nails on stone.
She needs to get the antidote before her pretend victims turn into real ones.
Kneeling down, I waft the spilled liquid toward me until I smell something I recognize.Devil’s Snare.Fortunately, there are a handful of counteragents, and they are all rather common. I pick my way through the intact vials and beakers as quickly as I can, trying to remove myself from the disgust of touching things that belonged tohim.
My mind is so singularly fixated on finding the antidote that I almost miss the growl of my chalyx, closer than it was a moment ago. I spin just in time to see Khijhana lunge for me.
I would like to think that our bond would stop her from killing me, but I don’t relish the idea of losing any limbs today, either. Adrenaline is rushing through my veins, pushing out the last effects of the poison, which is good. Fighting Dvain was one thing, but I would be no match for Khijhana in that state.
My fingers grasp the correct vial just in time for me to roll out of the way, tossing the emerald dagger to the side before she injures herself on it. Glass shatters, and Einar turns his head just enough for Gunnar to land a punch to his jaw.
“I’m all right,” I yell, popping the cork off the vial with one swift motion.
I have less than a second to take in Khijhana’s massive form and Gunnar’s steady attacks, to determine which of them is the bigger threat in this moment. Then I throw myself on Khijha’s back, emptying the vial into her mouth and hoping fervently that she doesn’t bite my hand off before it kicks in.
She snarls, whipping around so fast that I fly to the glass-strewn floor. My hand stings, blood leaking out from where it caught against her wickedly sharp fangs. Einar yells my name, but I can’t take my eyes off Khijhana long enough to look at him, to reassure him I’m all right again when I’m not sure it’s true this time.
I am still rolling to my feet when she pounces at me with an ear-splitting roar. It takes me a single moment to realize that however stupid it may be, I will let her devour me before I can bring myself to kill her.
Then she falters midstride, blinking before she lets out a sad mewling sort of sound. My shoulders sag with relief before the sounds of brawling reach my ears again.
“How long do the effects last?” Einar calls out, ducking from another blow.
It’s easy to see he is still defending himself from Gunnar rather than being on the offensive. Taking in the mess of shattered vials, I wish I could give him any answer other than the truth. That it could be a solid hour before it wears off. We can’t wait that long.
With a sigh, I study Gunnar’s movements with a practiced, albeit exhausted eye. As soon as he leaves an opening, I slip behind him, reaching an arm up and around his neck. He is confused enough that it takes him too long to realize the pressure around his throat is coming from me rather than Einar, so he continues to fend off the wrong assailant. I tighten my hold and count my breaths, releasing only when his body slackens.
He tumbles to the floor, and Einar gapes at me.
“He’ll wake up in a few minutes,” I say between heaving breaths. “Time for me to find another antidote in all of this, hopefully.” I gesture vaguely to the wreckage.
Einar shakes his head. “For a moment, I thought I was still hallucinating. Because who could take out two men and a chalyx, unarmed and half-clothed?”
My lips part. I am naked and half-chained and quite literally stained with the blood of my sins, and still, the only things I see in his gaze are pride and knee-weakening relief. He blinks rapidly then, reminding me he is still under the effects of the poison.
It takes only a few minutes to locate one of the other antidotes. While Einar is administering it to himself and Gunnar, I finally take a few minutes to console my poor chalyx. My arms wrap around her, but my gaze lands on Dvain’s corpse in the doorway to his torture chamber.
I have killed before, on Madame’s orders and on her missions, out of self-defense. But this is the first time I have experienced not a single shred of guilt over it.
Khijhana’s soft, high-pitched noises of confusion play over in my mind. My eyes flit from the dagger that inflicted so much pain to the drain where he washed away the despair of the people he tortured like it was nothing. Like they were nothing.
