I did not ever imagine that he wanted it for The Ancient to destroy The Haven.
But the first domino has fallen. And I am wholly responsible.
Somewhere from beyond us come the shrieks of The Convicted. They’ve been let out, thanks to me. And now, after being deprived of blood, for so long, they will wreak havoc on the world above.
Smithson darts into a crevice in the rock. I follow him—and am blindsided when his first catches me square in the jaw.
I stumble back. A white-hot pillar of rage erupts in me. My vampire instincts are instantly unleashed. I snarl and launch myself at him, claws out, going for the heart.
He knocks me off as easily as if I were a babe. I crash into a wall. Smithson laughs.
“Do you think you’re the only one under protection of a cloaking spell?” he growls. He draws a dagger from his belt. It’s tipped with silver. “Come on,” he says, “show me what you’ve got.”
I launch myself at him. We collide and grapple for position. He tries to dip the dagger under my ribs. I swat the attack away, managing to get my claws up in time to swipe him across the face.
Four red marks form on his cheek. He laughs and spits out blood.
“Is that all you have?” he asks me. “Is that all the strength contained inside the son of the greatest vampire king this world has ever known?” He looks at me in disgust. “That’s pitiful.”
My anger strikes up another notch. Raging, I throw myself at him. He was right, he is cloaked, and that’s why I’d always considered him weaker. But he isn’t like the vampires from The Crypts. He doesn’t have the gift of The Ancient’s blood.
In fact, he and I are closely matched.
He tries to stab me with the dagger but I parry each of his attacks. I can tell from the way he holds it that he isn’t the most proficient with the weapon.
“What’s wrong, Smithson?” I ask cruelly. “Missing your precious sword?”
That riles him up. He roars and throws himself at me. I go entirely on the defensive, only just managing to deflect his attacks.
Maybe taunting the man wasn’t the best idea.
He flashes his dagger. Every single jab gets closer and closer to hitting the mark. I grit my teeth, grimly aware that I am weakening—
With a sudden stab he breaks through my defenses. The dagger sinks into my side. I cry out. The silver tip, inside my body, is more than I can handle.
I go down.
Smithson looks at me and laughs. A sudden flurry of stabs descend upon me. It’s all I can do to shield my heart. The dagger dips into my chest, my shoulders, my arms, my back. Pain and agony take me. The wounds do not close because of that horrific metal.
Finally, when I lie broken and bleeding on the ground, he stops.
He sneers as he wipes the dagger clean on his pants. I groan. “Killing you was never part of the plan. But you had to go and visit Victoria. You had to make yourself seen. Beatrice asked me to get you in. She said nothing about keeping you alive.”
He tosses the blade on the ground. It skitters to a halt before my face.
“Do yourself a favor. End your misery. Take the honest way out.” He kneels before me. “Take the dagger,” he whispers. “Plunge it in your heart. You know death comes for you no matter what. You can extend your misery, and slowly bleed to death. Or you can accept my final mercy, and go out as a man. Because,” he stands again, “in all the behavior I’ve seen you display, you’re nothing but a frightened child.”
With that he walks away.
“Wait,” I croak, dragging myself forward. Blood continues to pour out of the wounds and pool around me. “Why do this? Who is Beatrice to you?”
He considers the question for a moment. Then he decides to indulge me.
“Beatrice,” he says. “Is the wife who was stolen from me. And for that little nugget of information…” he plucks the dagger away, “… you lost your last chance at a swift and easy death. Goodbye, James. I won’t be seeing you again.”
He walks out of the fissure, leaving me to bleed dry on the ground.
Chapter Sixty
VICTORIA
Somewhere in the commotion I come to. I crack an eye open. Sounds filter to my ears.
Eleira—she’s alive! Eleira is screaming at the Queen, something about her being a dark witch and fighting for The Haven and other such nonsense that I cannot make heads or tails of. Beyond her, I see Raul. Handsome, stunning Raul, with his flame-red hair and blazing green eyes. If only he had been the one to first come to The Crypts, and not his arrogant brother James…
A sudden spasm in my neck makes me whimper in pain. I bite down the sound. I have to avoid drawing attention to myself.
My eyes go up. Far above me is an opening to the sky. I’m surrounded by rubble and debris from the castle.