Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 145721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
“Get out of there,” he yelled just as an alarm blared.
The door slammed shut between them before she could cross the threshold. The lights went out, and she was cast into pitch blackness.
Kierse lurched for the door only for arms to roughly grasp her. “No!” she screamed, reaching for her knives or the gun in her boot.
But a heavy object came down on her temple, and she collapsed, unconscious, to the floor.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
The floor was cold under her cheek.
Her head swam, but as she came to, she could hear voices. Many voices. A chill ran up her spine that told her not to move, not a single muscle. She’d felt that terror before as she faced down a monster. This time, it was all-encompassing.
From her position, she could tell that whoever had kidnapped her had been thorough. The knives in her corset and boots as well as the pilfered gun were gone. She had no weapons. And she was about to face down a party of monsters without an exit strategy. Her worst nightmare.
At least Graves was out there somewhere. She hoped.
No, Graves would show up. He would save her.
“Ah, she’s awake,” a voice said from beside her.
No use pretending now.
Kierse opened her eyes as she was roughly hauled to her feet by a pair of vampires. Her greatest fears were immediately confirmed. They had brought her to the full ballroom of monsters, where King Louis was seated like a conquering hero on a throne, drenched in the blood of his victims: three young women—one already dead, the other so drugged out on his venom that she would likely follow, and the last one—Torra.
Her breath caught at the sight of her lying at the feet of the throne. Her head slumped against the leg. She was supposed to have already made her way to the exit to meet Graves and Kierse. She shouldn’t have been lying at King Louis’s feet with only a subtle rise and fall of her chest.
She tore her eyes from Torra to confirm that Walter was still standing at the front of the room. A shimmering force field stretched around the vampire that only magic users could see.
Then she saw what sat before the vicious monster—a clear box, humming with ward energy. The Spear of Lugh.
Kierse lunged for the box. If she could just get to the spear—But before the thought could even process, she was wrenched backward and secured in place.
A chorus of laughter rang from the ballroom, and King Louis’s demonic eyes shifted fully to her.
“Our guest of honor!” he boomed.
He rose to his full height, standing half a head taller than Kierse, and dumped the girls unceremoniously to the floor. Kierse held his gaze, steady. She did not flinch. She did not break his stare. She was afraid, but she refused to show it.
“Ah, come now. I can sense your heartbeat,” he said quietly. “You can drop the act.”
She refused. She wouldn’t give him the benefit of seeing her fear.
“Fuck you,” she spat eloquently.
He chuckled. “No need for vulgarity. It’s a party. We’re here to celebrate.” He gestured to their ravenous audience. The monsters hungering for her. The meals slumped over from blood loss. As if this wasn’t vulgar. “After all, I’ve gone to a lot of trouble to get you here.”
She blinked at those words. Keeping her mouth clamped shut was an effort, but he must have seen the questions in her eyes.
“See, I’ve been looking for tasty little morsels like yourself. Power, true power, can’t be bought or made or purchased. It can only be inherent in a person. Like me.” He straightened, holding out his cane and preening. “But it can be enhanced. And your blood is an enhancer.”
“Bullshit,” she spat.
Mafi had said that her blood didn’t do anything for vampires. It was just blood. Her being able to absorb magic didn’t do anything to him.
He smirked. “No? Should we test it, then?”
Then his act dropped, and she saw the moment when the killer instinct took over, the moment when he changed from the pantomime performance to the true deadly beast within. He moved so fast that he was merely shadow before he was at her side. Walter’s force field swarmed around her as well, as Louis grasped her wrist in his meaty fingers.
Her gaze found Torra against the throne. Her eyes were pleading and sad.
She mouthed, Breathe.
Kierse’s eyes widened in panic. No, he couldn’t drink from her. She looked around wildly for another way out.
Graves. Where the hell was Graves? He hadn’t been captured. He hadn’t even made it into the room. He had to stop this.
But no one came.
No one stopped it as he lifted her wrist to his mouth. She was stealth and intrigue and secrecy. She had her slow motion, but she was still woozy from being incapacitated. Her mind was swimming, and she couldn’t shift fast enough, couldn’t escape his goons.