Текст книги "Throne of the Fallen"

Автор книги: Kerri Maniscalcol

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Текущая страница: 22 (всего у книги 35 страниц)

FORTY-FOUR

ENVY HADN’xT HAD a decent fight in a good long while.

He was glad now that he hadn’t taken Wrath up on his recent offer. He channeled his less dominant sins into weapons to be used on his enemies, stoking his wrath and gluttony and lust for killing.

He saved the best for last.

Envy summoned an image in his mind, one that made his sin snarl. For once he let his envy out of its cage, let it consume every thought, save one. Zarus had touched Camilla, knowing it was only a matter of time before Envy arrived on his doorstep.

With the memory of the vampire’s hands on her body, his teeth scraping across her neck as he used his powers on her, Envy spun, sinking his dagger into a leg.

The vampire’s growl was animal, the splurt of blood satisfying.

He’d aim for Zarus’s unbeating heart next.

Ice shot around the arena, a result of Envy’s power. He needed to pace himself, rein his magic and emotions in, or he’d burn out too fast. Already he felt breathless, the strain of moving his body more difficult without his gods-forsaken heart.

Sadistic Death goddesses.

The Kiadara used claw and fang and might, falling on him like starved animals in a frenzy. Daggers made of his ice stabbed the creatures.

Envy landed punches that sent them flying back, took some hits, and quickly realized they’d come prepared to win using any means necessary.

The Kiadara coated their claws and blades in toxins, slowing his already sluggish healing abilities.

If he had to guess, based on the searing pain shooting down his back, they’d made hellebane. If he’d placed a bet at House Greed, he’d have wagered Zarus had done the same.

Blade had said Zarus planned to poison Envy, but hellebane was different. The plant was only found in the most remote regions of the Seven Circles, and wasn’t toxic unless burned to a powder.

A barbed whip slashed between his shoulders, right where his wings were still tucked away. Hellebane seeped into his flesh, scalding. The pain honed his fury.

Envy spun, punching through Canidae’s chest to rip out its still-beating heart. He tossed it to its brethren, who grew ravenous as they fought over it. The Kiadara’s hunger knew no bounds—they’d eat their own severed limbs if blood lust had taken them.

He raised his blade to the vampire, his teeth bared. This needed to end.

Quickly. But he’d still make a good show of it.

“Come play.”

“I’m going to make that little bitch come before I suck her dry,” Zarus sneered.

It was the wrong thing to say.

Regardless of how drained he was, Envy moved with as much of his immortal strength as he could muster, dragging his blade across the vampire’s neck.

The wound was superficial, a warning that Envy was still playing.

He spun and struck again, this time sinking his blade into flesh until he nicked bone.

Zarus howled.

Envy barely noticed the hellebane-coated blades as they tore at his flesh.

His gaze was fixed, hungry, on one target.

He brought his dagger down on the vampire’s right knee, bone shattering from the impact. Zarus, for the first time, lost his sneer. He hobbled back, wincing.

Envy stopped playing. Only one of them was walking out of this arena and it sure as fuck was going to be Envy. Fear entered Zarus’s eyes.

Vampires healed fast, but bones took time to mend.

Envy struck again, breaking his other kneecap. It shattered to dust.

Zarus wouldn’t be standing again.

The Kiadara circled them both, spittle flying, landing in acidic hisses on the sand. Envy was momentarily distracted, and one of Bovinae’s bull horns pierced his shoulder, going clean through.

The wound didn’t begin to heal.

Envy gritted his teeth, swinging his blade up and through the Kiadara’s rib cage, despite the ripping pain in his own chest.

His earlier wound had split open, but at least the Kiadara had crumbled into a heap, twitching.

Zarus had summoned the other two Kiadara to his side, forming a meager line of protection. His knees likely wouldn’t heal until he feasted on blood and had a day’s rest.

Zarus would not see sunrise.

The remaining Kiadara growled and screeched.

Envy’s grip on his dagger tightened.

Lion or Falcon. Panthera or Falconidae.

In the end it didn’t matter where he started. Envy felt no satisfaction in destroying these creatures, descended from gods. It was a waste.

And one more reason he would kill this vampire who took life without care.

Not kill, he reminded himself. That final blow belonged to another. Envy might be a soulless demon, but Zarus was a rotten bastard. His court deserved better.

Panthera roared, the sound vibrating the ground with its force.

Until this point, Envy hadn’t paid attention to the crowd; he’d tuned them out, focusing instead on the sounds of his blade, meeting and tearing and shredding flesh. Now he heard their jeers, their cries for blood. They didn’t care whose it was.

He wanted to look for Camilla again in the stands, to know she was still secure, but didn’t. Alexei had his instructions. He’d die by Envy’s hand if he didn’t follow them.

Panthera prowled in a circle around Envy, closing in slowly.

Falconidae let loose a shrill call meant to distract. They would come at Envy as a team.

The wounds in his back bled freely, the drops turning to gold as they hit the ground. The creatures scented it, their gazes turning fully black. Envy was damned, but his blood was still divine; one taste was worth dying for. Or so he’d been told.

“I know I’m pretty. But are you going to stand there mentally undressing me all night?”

They leapt in tandem, each striking out at him. Envy narrowly missed Panthera’s teeth but wasn’t as fortunate with Falconidae’s sword. It carved into his side, hitting a rib.

Hellebane made the wound twice as painful, his breath turning sharp with each damned inhalation. His gold blood mixed with the red and black of his opponents and their previous victim, spilling faster than it had ever done before.

Fucking hell. He was getting… dizzy.

Panthera used the distraction to knock Envy to the ground.

Sand ground into the wounds on his back as Panthera’s teeth gnashed at his throat. Where its saliva hit his skin, it sizzled like water hitting hot rocks.

Envy bucked, sending the lion flying across the pit, its body hitting the stone wall with such power that it fell, limbs and head crooked, dead.

Envy did not pity the final creature. Falconidae.

He charged the raptor-headed monster, dagger puncturing one eye, then the next, before he tore the creature’s head off and tossed it aside, panting. The hellebane continued to burn beneath his skin. He needed to clean his wounds soon. And the fight needed to end.

Envy was weakened, more so than he’d ever admit.

Zarus, however, was trying to drag himself away, trailing his useless legs.

Envy walked over and drove his blade through Zarus’s hand, pinning him, then crouched in front of the wounded vampire, arms propped casually on his knees. The position hurt like nothing he’d ever experienced. But his expression didn’t let any pain show.

It would be so easy to rip Zarus’s head off and feed it to the flames right now. But the game hung in the balance, so he waited, wounds searing. The Fear Collector had given an unmistakable command.

He wondered, briefly, if the vampire had known all along what was at stake today.

If he’d agreed anyway. The Unseelie were excellent at stoking egos, making a win seem inevitable instead of improbable.

“Hubris, the great destroyer of man and beast alike.” Envy tsked. “Whatever the Unseelie King offered, you should have refused. You had a good life. Blood. Lovers. A whole court to serve and please you. Yet you dared to stand against a Prince of Hell.”

Zarus coughed up black blood, but his expression remained a vicious mask of defiance.

“She’ll… never… be… yours.”

Something twisted in Envy’s chest, as painful as the hellebane.

“Did Lennox tell you this would happen?” he asked. “That you would fight for more than your crown?”

Rage flared in Zarus’s ice-blue eyes.

“… promised… his… daughter.”

“I certainly hope he specified which one. He has more animal-like half-breeds roaming around than any of the mortal gods. He might have promised a sacred cow to you.”

Zarus’s lacerated tongue darted out, as if savoring this final blow.

“… one… four.”

Envy’s brows knitted.

There were four blood heirs in the Wild Court, two Unseelie princes and two Unseelie princesses. Each was rumored to possess magic with untold capabilities.

It would indeed be enough of an incentive for Zarus to risk it all.

Not only would his court be aligned with all Unseelie Fae, but his princess would be fearsome, powerful enough to keep enemies from his shores.

Any Unseelie princess would be as wicked as her parents, though, eventually ending her vampire prince for sport. Or, more likely, to claim more territory for the dark Fae.

Lennox never offered something of value unless he believed his investment would triple. The vampire either didn’t know or didn’t care about that. He probably thought he’d trap the princess with his venom.

Zarus gurgled on his own blood, trying to say more.

Envy supposed it was poetic justice in a sense.

He yanked his gaze away, finding Blade in the cavern just outside the pit. Thanks fucking be. The hellebane was so painful now, he was nearly brought to his knees. He needed to siphon some envy soon, replenish his depleted power.

Teeth gritted, Envy hauled Zarus’s limp form up.

Blade’s crimson eyes glowed with violence as he stepped forward. It was time to crown a new prince.

Zarus finally caught up with the truth of the situation, his fingers clawing at Envy’s arms.

“Mercy. I forfeit!”

“You never should have attacked my brother, or abused your own people,” Envy said quietly. “Taking Camilla was your worst move yet. Never touch what’s mine.”

Blade’s attention remained locked on the prince, his fangs gleaming as the sun slowly began to rise. In a move that was at once graceful and brutal, he tore out Zarus’s throat, then held the severed head high. Envy felt the crowd’s shock trickling down.

Blade didn’t play with his targets; he’d always been one to strike hard and fast, dispatching with precision.

Envy sent a bit of magic to the bodies piled on the sand, creating a pyre.

Blade brought the prince’s head to the flames, holding it there as the fire burned it to ash. Zarus had been so ancient, his papery skin caught like kindling.

The crowd’s hysteria hung like a dark mist.

“Silence.” Blade’s voice cut off the cries of terror that had erupted.

“By blood.” He indicated the charred head of his predecessor. “By blade.” He dragged his weapon over his heart. “By might. I’ve taken the Immortal Throne.”

Envy watched the crowd; they didn’t seem convinced.

Blade would need to get them to his side before the shock wore off and another heir stepped up.

Blade knew this.

He pulled out two curved daggers, holding them as he spun slowly, staring into the stands.

“Bow before your new prince. Or die by my blade.”

Tension hung as thick as the smoke in the air, and the sun continued to slowly ascend. Soon the vampires would need to retreat. But Blade had guards at the exits.

He would see them burn if they did not bow.

Next to Camilla, Alexei beat his fist to his chest, then took a knee. His proud voice carried down over the stands.

“Rightful ruler of the Immortal Hearts. I honor thee. Prince Blade.”

A tense pause stretched out. Finally, several other vampires followed suit, offering the vow and kneeling.

Soon the whole arena knelt, their whispers filling the air.

Blade had taken the Immortal Throne.

A crimson-eyed prince now ruled. The first as far as Envy knew.

Envy glanced at Blade, hoping he hadn’t made a mistake by putting a stronger vampire on the throne. Zarus was cruel, conniving, brutal to his own people, but Envy knew how he ruled.

Blade was an unknown, but hopefully he would be the prince his people needed.

Time would certainly tell one way or another.

Hopefully over the next several months, Blade would be too busy establishing his court and his rule, his attention set on finding a consort to join political forces and smooth things over with vampire nobility, to want to start any trouble with demons.

If not…

Wrath would undoubtedly hold Envy responsible for allowing a greater threat to emerge.

They would have to cross that bridge when they came to it.

For now, Envy needed to tend to his wounds before anyone discovered his growing weakness, collect his next clue, take Camilla away from here, then win this gods-damned game.

FORTY-FIVE

CAMILLA PACED INSIDE the chamber, feeling caged.

The battle had ended more than an hour before, and Envy hadn’t returned to the room yet.

Alexei had deposited her, locked the door from the outside, then left.

She’d rattled the handle, then tried to pick the lock, to no avail. The vampire said it was a safety precaution, but it felt like she was the prisoner.

She rummaged through the room, finding a little satchel filled with medicinal jars and a slim dagger and sheath she could hide on her person. The dagger Envy had given her was lost to Bloodwood Forest, so this would do nicely for now. A hastily scribbled note read: For the prince’s wounds, reapply as needed. Never forget: Strike hard, little lamb. Blade.

Camilla smiled. Despite how they’d met, she wished Blade well too.

Footsteps rushed past her room, again. A thousand people must have hurried past since she’d been locked in.

Bits and pieces of conversation reached her, confirming that the court was in total chaos.

Apparently only royal vampire heirs had ever deposed a prince before, and Blade’s crimson eyes were making this unusual.

No one knew what to do about Blade’s new position or claim.

Some were saying he was a royal despite his eye color, and then fights broke out over that.

The vampire court during such an internal upheaval was the last place she wished to be.

Camilla thought of her gallery, of her friends and her life back in Waverly Green. She thought of Bunny and wished more than anything else that her sweet furry friend were with her now. She tried to summon the feeling she thought should be gripping her tightly. To no avail.

Aside from her cat and her friends, Camilla didn’t miss much else.

She sat on the edge of her bed, removing the rosary pea cuffs and necklace. A noise outside her chamber drew her attention and she sprinted to the door, banging.

“Hello?” she called.

“There you are.” Vexley’s drawl sounded from the other side. “Camilla, darling. Open the door.”

She thought about banging her head against the wall.

“It’s locked. From your side.”

“Oh.”

Click.

The door swung open, revealing both Vexley and his new girlfriend. The succubus waved her pointed tail, then shoved Vexley against the wall, running her tongue over him with a wink before striding off.

Camilla was too grateful for her assistance with breaking the lock to be disgusted by how aroused Vexley now was. She kept her eyes on his face.

“Are you going back to Waverly Green?” she asked, peering down the corridor.

No Alexei. No Envy. No guards rushing to lock her away.

“I am. Although if you’re asking for a way back, it will cost you more than another forgery, my love.” Vexley smiled and stepped closer. “This time I want you to accept my marriage suit.”

Camilla wasn’t surprised he’d use this situation to his advantage, but she was surprised to realize she hadn’t been asking for a way back to Waverly Green.

If ever there were a time to escape, to run headlong back to her normal life, this was it. No more games, no more Underworld, no more vampire battles or Houses of Sin. But as much as she wanted her cat, she did not want to return home just yet. She still needed to win back her talent.

She retreated from Vexley, slowly shaking her head.

“You misunderstand. I don’t wish to leave.”

His hand clamped down on her wrist, grinding her bones together.

“You misunderstand. It’s not a choice. Zarus’s death has prevented me from obtaining my next clue.”

“I don’t see how that has anything to do with me.”

“I’ve lost the game, Camilla. It’s over for me. But you’re here for a reason too—you’ll ease my pain, won’t you?”

“Let go.”

His grip had tightened, but his expression remained perfectly calm. It frightened her more than his outward fury ever had. His tone was pleasant, cajoling. Like she simply needed him to bring her to heel, to make her see reason.

“This is the way, Camilla. You will return as my wife. We’ll sell more forgeries. Make so much coin, we’ll buy our way into immortality.”

“That’s why you played? To become immortal?”

Vexley’s placid expression faltered. “I have my reasons, darling. Now come along.”

“I said, let go.”

The mask of calmness shattered, revealing the truth of the man she’d seen once before.

“I’m not leaving without a prize, Camilla. Even if that’s you.” Vexley’s gaze had turned cold, his mouth twisting into a cruel sneer.

He shoved her back into her chamber, quickly pinning her against the wall.

“First, we’ll put an heir in your belly.”

His free hand slipped between them, tenderly caressing her stomach as if he weren’t speaking of forcing himself upon her. As if there were anything gentle or sweet about his proposal.

“Vexley,” she said again, trying to remain calm. “You don’t want to do this. Let me go.”

She glanced around wildly; the damn dagger Blade had given her was still in its sheath, too far out of reach.

Vexley leaned in, eyes menacing.

How this man had ever fooled society into believing he was carefree was a mystery. Camilla now saw that his lopsided grin also indicated how off-kilter the scales of right and wrong inside him were.

She channeled her fear, her rage, feeling it collect beneath her skin. She would give him one more chance to unhand her.

“Let go of me, Vexley. Now.”

Her voice was calm, steady. It was a deception. One Vexley fell for.

He leaned into her harder, as if he could force their souls to twine right there. He wished for marriage. Till death do them part. She would grant him at least part of that wish.

He ought to have been paying attention to the silver in her eyes, gleaming like assassin’s blades, not the swath of skin between her breasts.

But Vexley wasn’t wise or observant. His selfish behavior would be his undoing.

His grip on her didn’t loosen. But she no longer cared.

Using that connection, every single place he touched her, she let that strange feeling under her skin loose. Perhaps she was mad. But she’d had enough.

Years of torment, of fear, of folding into herself instead of pushing back, exploded in a torrent of suppressed emotion. Like a dam breaking, everything she’d held back flooded her.

“What the—”

Camilla’s force surged through them both. Vexley’s eyes rolled, showing the whites.

His hands, now fused to her, couldn’t have unclasped her if he’d tried.

She watched distantly as he shook, his body violently convulsing, spittle forming at his mouth—like foam collecting on a churning sea.

She smelled the piss, the excrement, just before the pig collapsed onto his filth, his body twitching one last time.

Camilla stepped back, gaze fixed to the unmoving form, feeling void of emotion. In the distance, perhaps only in her mind, familiar female laughter snaked down her spine. She thought, for one dark second, that her mother would be proud.

She couldn’t say what made her look up; perhaps she knew he’d been there, watching from the shadows. Perhaps she’d simply wished him there and he’d come, summoned by the depravity of what she’d done, or the way she felt not an ounce of remorse.

Envy moved into the light, his attention locked on hers. He said nothing of the man lying dead at her feet. No judgment crossed his features, no fear or revulsion.

Camilla said nothing of the wounds leaking ichor from his body.

Or the brutal way he’d killed in that arena, the pleasure he’d seemed to take in death.

Maybe they were both damned, wicked things, broken in all the right places so they lined up, jagged edge to smooth.

He extended his hand, waiting.

Before she went to him, she grabbed the satchel Blade had gifted her. She didn’t spare another glance at Vexley as she stepped over him. Right now, Camilla wasn’t capable of regret, or worry. Not even shock.

Whatever feelings she’d stored up had emptied, as if she’d used them all.

Clasping Envy’s blood-speckled hand in hers, Camilla gave him one nod and braced for his magic as he whisked them away from the carnage of the vampire court.