The Roman(60)
Ibarra went flying backward, several feet in the air, until he came crashing to the stone floor near the entrance to the chamber. He lay on the floor, unmoving.#p#分页标题#e#
“The next one who attempts to touch my pet will be destroyed.” The Prince turned his threatening gaze on Aoibhe, who appeared ready to strike. “I am an old one, son of the Roman himself. I have strength and abilities you can only imagine. Oppose me at your peril.”
Silence filled the council chamber at the Prince’s revelation; the soldiers gazed at him in shock.
He adjusted his robe and regained his throne. “Take the traitors to the holding cells and await further instructions.”
“This is a mistake!” Aoibhe shouted. “If the Curia is here, you need my help!”
“Get her out of my sight.”
“I’ve served you for years! This is my payment? You’re going to turn me over to the black robes?”
Two soldiers approached, and a struggle ensued. She felled them both and disarmed a third, wielding his sword.
“I’ve waited years for my chance at the throne!” She shook with anger. “Fight me yourself, you coward.”
The Prince lifted a dagger from his belt and hurled it through the air. It struck Aoibhe’s hand.
She howled and dropped her sword.
“Take them away.” The Prince looked at the traitors in disgust. “Keep close watch on both of them.”
Four soldiers pinned Aoibhe’s arms to her sides, even as black blood welled up around the dagger sticking out of her hand.
Another soldier helped the Basque to his feet and led him, limping, to the door.
Raven twisted her hands in her lap, visibly shaken. Her green eyes were active, watching the soldiers’ retreating backs before coming to rest on the Prince’s face.
He placed his cool hand over hers. “Are you all right?”
She managed a quick nod.
“I am sorry it took me so long to get to your side.” William’s expression was blank, as if he were concealing something. “When you were in the tunnels, did he touch you?”
“No,” Raven croaked.
She cleared her throat before continuing. “He threatened me, but we were interrupted by the vampyres fleeing the Curia.”
“You should not have been placed at risk. I never expected they would attack the villa.”
“Father Kavanaugh called me on my cell phone right before the trespassers came onto your property. He must have been tracing the SIM card.”
“Is the device with you now?”
“No. Lucia gave me another.” She withdrew the phone from her pocket.
“If your priest was behind the incursion, it was probably a small group of soldiers intent on liberating you.”
“He doesn’t understand I’ve been liberated already,” Raven remarked. “He refuses to listen to me and to what I want.”
William squeezed her hand. “Although the experience is not one I would have wished for, it’s a preferable scenario to an invasion. Since the priest failed, he and his men will probably retreat. I will make arrangements to hand Aoibhe and Ibarra over officially.”
Raven shivered, far from comforted by his analysis.
A guard entered the council chamber and strode up the aisle. “A member of the security team requests an audience, my Lord.”
“Show him or her in.” The Prince released Raven’s hand.
The guard bowed and returned to the door, opening it and escorting a young vampyre into the chamber. The two figures marched up the aisle.
The young vampyre was dressed casually in a white shirt and jeans. He looked to be no more than twenty.
The Prince waved him closer.
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“Pardon, my Lord.” The young one bowed jerkily. “I am Emiliano, from the security team. I just delivered a message to Lord Gregor, and he sent me to you.”
“I know who you are. What is the message?”
“Our s-spies in Rome—” the young vampyre stuttered. “Our spies in Rome sent an urgent message warning us that Curia soldiers are on their way.”
“Is this report in reference to the eleven men who have already entered the city?”
“No, my Lord. This is a report of a massive movement of troops from Rome.”
The Prince sat forward. “Are the sources reliable?”
“We checked with more than one. There are civilian reports as well.”
The Prince’s hand curled into a fist. “How many?”
“At least three centuries.”
“Sard.”
Emiliano ducked his head, wringing his hands in front of him.
“How long before they arrive?”
“We are tracking their movements, but we expect them in less than three hours.”