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With a yell, I sent a burst of magick towards him. Glassware shattered, moving into a cyclone with the rest of the kitchen as a gust of icy wind burst through the back door.
Heedless of the danger, he stalked through the torrent, his intentions clear. The vampire was going to kill me and then use the talisman to destroy what remained of the Salem Coven.
“I can see it in your eyes.” His lips pouted in mock sympathy. “Finally, you understand your fate.”
My voice wavered as I spoke. “It’s your fate you should be concerned with. The staff’s power is corrupted. It will turn on you if it hasn’t already, and then your actions tonight will spell your end. You’ve made enemies that will raze your royal bullshit to the ground.”
“Then it’s a good thing I’ll have you as the ace up my sleeve.”
He lunged for the kitchen table, intent on finding the staff, but my magick halted him once more. In a surge of force, he knocked me onto the ground, my breath whooshing out as I gasped for breath.
Seething, I grasped onto a fallen carving knife, hiding it behind my back.
Trystan used his knee to trap my throat onto the hardwood. “I’m not totally unmerciful. Using the staff, I’ll keep Alistair’s wrath from you for a time. And when I kill you, I’ll make it fast and painless as a last gift to my prince.” He laughed, and the sound grated like the glass shards digging into my back.
If only I had the amulet, I thought distantly.
I used what remained of my energy to attack Trystan but knew it wouldn’t be enough. Too easily, he rammed my head against the hardwood. My vision swam as I fought to stay conscious, though I aimed the carving knife at his neck as a last-ditch effort to escape my fate.
“You bitch!” he raged as I missed, slashing down his biceps instead.
Blood trickled across both of us. The bite wound from earlier stung as Trystan’s hand yanked on the broken skin. He froze, hovering over me, as his eyes glowed bright red with thirst.
“Witch’s blood,” he murmured dazedly. “So sweet.”
His nose flared, and I watched in horror as the leash holding back his bloodlust released. Fast as a viper, he turned my head to the side, and his fangs lodged in my throat. He sucked my blood in deep pulls, and I screamed out at the unimaginable pain.
Had I ever fantasized about Alexei drinking from me?
I nearly retched at the drag of my blood, that burned like lava in my veins, searing me from the inside out. Through the pain, I stabbed him in the back repeatedly with the carving knife, but no matter how hard I fought, his clutch on me didn’t loosen.
“More,” Trystan groaned hungrily.
He seized above me, his eyes rolling back into his head, while his entire body vibrated.
My spirit magick, sensing my impending death, resurfaced in a gust, raging and desperate to defend me. Without warning, Trystan flew away from me.
Horror and fury like I had only ever experienced the night of Samhain when my sisters and I destroyed Carreau consumed me. It gave me the strength necessary to rise from the floor. As my magick sizzled around me, just like the demon who had taken away my parents, Trystan exploded, covering me in a puddle of blood, guts, and bone.
My pulse slowed as I collapsed in a haze, unfeeling as shock tore through me.
I tried to lift my hand to my neck to staunch the blood, but fresh pain ripped through me. Every small twitch or movement of my muscles sent agonizing sparks through me until I forced myself to lie still.
Shouting and the sounds of fighting down on the beach seemed to slow.
Through the fog of bloodlust and exhaustion, I swore I saw a shadowy form materialize beside me. His eyes appeared hard and crimson, but before I could scream, his teeth tore into his wrist. He seized my jaw, forcing my mouth open and dripping his blood past my lips.
I choked on the thick taste, nearly gagging, but his hand covered my mouth, forcing me to swallow. I realized, dazedly as I continued to blink hotly, that it was Silas—nearly unrecognizable with the black blood marring his face.
“That should hasten your healing along,” he murmured with a thick Slovenian accent.
His words echoed through me as he gripped me in his arms, my legs dangling listlessly, as he ran towards Liliane’s front door. Though I tried to stay awake, my eyes flickered shut.
The night of destruction had been precisely what I feared the moment Alexei revealed the staff had been stolen, and what power laid within. But I had done it. I had killed Trystan, saving covens from further bloodshed by the prejudiced vampire.
A smile curled my lips as I dreamed of Alexei, hoping I would be in his sturdy arms soon.
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