Dark Reign

by Rachel Jonas

  Ianites were characteristically impulsive creatures, so any of these ideas could have been true, but the cause for him devouring her didn’t matter. What mattered was that I’d lost sight of what this world was, had forgotten the hellish beasts that ruled it.

  All because I let myself get carried away.

  “We … we have to stop him,” I stammered, already thinking it’d be too late, but knowing I had to at least try.

  ”What is it? What’s happening?” Felix blurted.

  There was no point in answering. There was no time. I needed to get down there and help this girl. I moved toward the doors, planning to take the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator. Every second counted. I was nearly to the threshold of the French doors when my wrist was taken. Julian whirled me around until we were face to face again. At first, I didn’t understand why he lacked the sense of urgency that pumped blood through my veins at twice the normal speed, didn’t understand the confused look he wore.

  Until I did.

  Until he made his stance crystal clear.

  “You can’t go down there,” he stated, an air of disbelief in his tone.

  When I tried and failed to snatch my hand from his, the frustration he expressed at my protest only grew.

  “Corina … she’s just a Doll,” he reasoned, a deep crease at the center of his brow marking his confusion. He didn’t understand, didn’t sympathize with the idea of a life being taken mere meters away.

  And his explanation said it all.

  She was just a Doll.

  “Let go of me.”

  There was no chance Julian could mistake that I was serious. I wanted to get as far away from him as possible. Far away from the twisted way his people viewed the world.

  “Why are you making such a fuss about this? What he does with his property is none of our business.”

  And there it was, the truth that existed beneath this beautiful façade of what looked like a man, but was really only a monster. How quickly I’d forgotten.

  “Let … go of me.” I repeated my request, holding his gaze as I spoke.

  With a forlorn gaze—one I nearly sympathized with—he stared. A moment later, the grasp that held me prisoner loosened, and I didn’t hesitate to run, leaving him to assume whatever he wanted about me. It didn’t matter.

  Because I didn’t intend for our paths to ever cross again.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Corina

  “Cori, talk to us.”

  I ignored the team as I took off, stopping only to remove the silver heels from my feet as I ran with no real plan, simply in search of the staircase, an exit. I’d been running and ducking down one torch-lit corridor after another for a full minute, searching for the stairs. A hallway to the right seemed vaguely familiar, so I turned, hoping I’d gotten it right this time, but … I hadn’t.

  In fact, I’d gotten it terribly wrong.

  I dead-ended at a guestroom, one bathed in the glow of at least two dozen candles. Before me, as I stood in the open doorway, two sets of brown eyes met mine. Both half-mast and dazed as they barely clung to consciousness. They were nowhere near as well-put-together as the Dolls I’d seen here tonight, but were definitely human. These two were disheveled—their hair limp and falling from haphazardly placed pins, their dresses fitting poorly, as if they’d been borrowed or perhaps even stolen.

  Whatever the case, something wasn’t right with them.

  Neither seemed to care as thin trickles of blood streamed down their frail necks. A man stood over them, an Ianite who didn’t even notice I was there as a set of jagged fangs protruded from his gums. He sank them into the delicate skin of one’s wrist, drinking from her at such a rapid rate I feared she’d die any second, but … there was no protest—from either woman. Instead, a look of euphoria danced on the face of his human snack.

  She … enjoyed it.

  Perhaps more than he did.

  I’d heard the term ‘tweakers’ mentioned before, but had never seen one with my own eyes—humans who lent themselves to Ianites for a feeding, all so they could get high on the feel of being almost completely drained of blood. And perhaps, even the idea of being so close to death.

  My stomach swirled and I thought I might vomit. This place … it wasn’t meant for me. I had to find a way out of there.

  I finally made it to the banister, sprinting to the first landing. Stately artwork—portraits of lords and dukes who had reigned throughout the Dynasty—lined the walls in a blur as I took the steps by two. I was aware of them, but barely noticed any detail. My thoughts were intently focused on making an escape.

  And fast.

  After how much time had passed, attempting to save the girl I’d witnessed being mauled in the garden was pointless. With the scent of fresh blood in the air, it wouldn’t have surprised me if others had joined her ‘Master’ in the feast. These fancy gowns and tuxes didn’t change what they were.

  Savages.

  There wasn’t likely anything left of her. Her fate was sealed, confirming what I already knew; this place wasn’t meant for humans. I needed to get away from Lord Wilford’s palace and down the street, roughly a block away where Banks and Jonesy would be waiting in the van. Once I made it to them, I’d be free, well on my way back to reality.

  My reality.

  At the foot of the stairs, a sudden flash of light made me recoil, but it didn’t matter because more photographers and reporters rushed in right behind the first.

  “What’s your connection to the prince?”

  “Was arriving with Cecelia McNamara just a ruse?”

  “Tell us, will you be the next empress of the Eastern Dynasty when Prince Julian takes the throne next year?”

  Questions flew at me from all directions.

  More camera flashes.

  More questions.

  So many questions.

  Shielding my face from their lenses, I pushed past. A clean break through the front door was no longer possible. There were sure to be more of them on the lawn, waiting to pounce on me the moment I stepped onto it. My best bet was to leave through the back, although I knew it wasn’t my safest option. Just a moment ago, an Ianite feasted on his Doll in the very garden I’d have to escape through. There was a chance he still lurked about, but it was my only way out of there.

  Darting in that direction, I rushed out, and had it not been for the sentinels stopping the mob from tailing me, I would have never made it. I ran—hard, fast. Coming tonight had been a mistake. Not only did I come up short where information concerning HIN-190487 was concerned, I learned something about myself.

  I wasn’t the infallible Blackbird so many believed me to be. The moment Julian had turned on the charm, I lost my way, compromising the entire mission because I couldn’t control my emotions.

  Bursting into the night air, I could nearly taste freedom.

  “Tell Banks I’m on my way,” I panted through the com.

  “On it,” Felix answered right away. I could only imagine what he and Liv were thinking as they listened to the sudden commotion. I’d explain everything to them when I got back, but right now, all that mattered was getting as far away from here as possible.

  Bypassing a stone bench on my left, I was finally to the thicket of bushes that marked the entrance of the garden I overlooked a short time ago. It was a straight path to the edge of the property. In preparation for the barrier I’d have to scale to get out, I intentionally tore the split of my dress a few inches higher, leaving the knife holstered against my thigh visible.

  My heartrate spiked again when I thought of the hellhounds. With a property this size, there were at least three packs lurking about. How long until one caught sight of me in its peripheral vision, and alerted the others that a meal on two feet was getting away. Imagining what they’d do if they caught up, I moved faster.

  I was close. Close enough to make out the slight variation in color of the opaque brick wall that divided Lord Wilford’s palace from the outside world. Howe
ver, even having put so much distance between the palace and myself, between Julian and myself … it wasn’t enough.

  “I’ve got her,” a deep voice rang out just before I was snatched backwards by my waist. A solid arm cut off my breathing with the tight squeeze, as he bound me to his side.

  Glancing over my shoulder, my worst nightmare was confirmed.

  A sentinel.

  He knew my secret, and with one word, I knew what had given me away.

  “Sweat,” he informed another who approached. “Just like you said.”

  This was all my fault. Desperate to get away, I’d forgotten the importance of keeping my cool.

  Literally.

  An unavoidable, very human tell, had been what brought the entire plan down around me.

  Ianites bodies may warm when the right variables aligned, but never, under any circumstances, did they sweat.

  The sentinels could’ve seen the sheen on my forehead, smelled the faint trace of nervous perspiration in the air at any time during my exit, so there was no point trying to guess.

  “You nearly got away,” one said with a smile. I caught a glimpse of the badge he wore. Sentinel Bryson.

  “Is she marked?” another asked. Quickly scanning his uniform, I had his name, too—Sentinel Embry.

  “Bryson and Embry,” I stated in a low whisper, doing all I could to regurgitate tidbits of info to my team, before I was dealt with in whatever manner these two saw fit. I couldn’t recall if I’d seen either when Julian and I exited the gala, as we ascended the elevator to the second floor—not that it would have helped if they recognized me.

  I was done for either way.

  “What’s that you said, sow?” Embry asked in a brash tone, those treacherous eyes of his landing on me.

  He didn’t wait for an answer before my arm was twisted violently by his partner as he searched for the mark. When the customary tell of a Doll—a Master’s barcode tattooed on my bicep—wasn’t found, they lifted my hair, checking the back of my neck for a Harvest Identification Number.

  “Nothing but a small scar,” Bryson sighed, unknowingly referring to the incision where the anti-compulsion device had been implanted. When he turned me to face him, a curious look passed between us.

  “Where on Earth did you come from?” he asked.

  I didn’t say a word, because he wasn’t expecting an answer anyway.

  “Is she branded with a lot number?” Embry asked.

  Bryson lifted the side of my dress and I fought against his strength as he ran his massive hand up my thigh, searching my skin.

  “Nothing. Just a few bruises covered with makeup, and this,” he answered Embry, tossing my knife into a rose bush.

  He began to circle slowly, assessing all Liv had put into making sure I fit in tonight, making sure all traces of the last mission—those bruises mentioned—weren’t visible at a glance. When all was said and done, it had all been for nothing.

  “No mark. No HIN. No brand,” Embry grumbled curiously.

  “Interesting.” Bryson didn’t take his eyes off me as he spoke.

  “You think she’s rogue? From one of those fringe operations that’ve been giving us hell lately?” Embry asked next.

  Bryson didn’t answer. “Who sent you here tonight?” he asked me instead.

  My breaths came deep and even while I held his gaze. When his brow furrowed—marking his forehead with deep-set lines—it was clear he resented that I didn’t cower, didn’t immediately rush to spill my secrets. I knew as much, because his broad jaw stiffened, and my arm was seized a second time.

  “Who sent you?”

  He asked again, but this time the question was screamed at me, reminding me with the force of the wind, and the sudden wicked depth of his voice, that he was not human.

  I shuddered from the intensity, but still held my ground.

  I knew something was coming, some show of power to remind me of my place—as a human, as a woman—but I had no idea what tactics these two would employ. When Bryson reached for the back of my head, I cried out at the feel of my hair being pulled and then wound tight around his wrist. As soon as I moved to free myself, Embry rushed forward, holding his suddenly visible, razor-like claws to the hollow of my throat.

  “Cori, tell us where you are! Banks and Jonesy are armed and they’re coming for you,” Liv said with quivering words.

  I imagined how that would play out, if I allowed the team to intervene—Banks and Jonesy alone against what I was certain to be a hundred or more sentinels on the grounds. More in civilian clothes, hiding in plain sight. To sum it up, there was no point.

  No point in calling the others in when I knew what would await them, the same fate that awaited me.

  Death.

  My body was slammed to the stone path and I gasped when all air left my lungs. Embry did his part by smashing the sole of his boot to my wrist. I managed to keep a grip on my clutch for a few seconds, but it eventually slipped from my palm before being kicked into the bushes. The special bracelet I was so incredibly dependent on didn’t stand a chance either. I felt it bend beneath his weight, until finally a sharp edge pierced my skin when the device separated into two.

  I cried out as the jagged metal dug deeper into my skin, pressing against tendons, leaving the tissue beneath them raw and stinging.

  Still, despite the pain, all I could think about was the fact that he’d broken it, this small thing that probably seemed so insignificant to them, but meant so much to me.

  And what was perhaps worse, I now had an open wound. It would only take seconds for others to take notice and come sniffing for their next meal.

  “Fine.” Bryson exhaled as he hovered above me. “You don’t want to tell us who you work for? Then we’ll torture the answer out of you. After that, I’ll personally string you from the gallows like the worthless sack of skin you are. And then, once the last breath has left your body, we’ll tear every scrap of flesh from your bones with our teeth and let the huntsman’s pack lick your blood from the dirt.” He leaned in even closer. “There will be nothing left. It’ll be like you never existed.”

  Liv didn’t speak, but her quiet sobs were hard to miss.

  “I vote we feast on her before the gallows, give her a glimpse of what Hell feels like, and then we hang her while there’s still a little life left in her,” Embry suggested.

  The two shared a laugh and as I lay there, fearing theirs would be the last faces I saw before my end, I had a very human response—a tear slipped down my cheek. No, it wasn’t very heroic, but I never set out to be anyone’s hero anyway.

  When their quiet laughter grew even louder, I knew they’d seen it.

  “How awful this must be for you,” Bryson added mockingly, swiping the droplet from my skin. “Knowing you’re mere hours away from your last breath.”

  His touch made me shrink away, and I was immediately shown he didn’t approve of the reaction. Before I had time to flinch, the back of a heavy hand struck my face, whipping my head violently toward the wall I came so close to crossing.

  Panting, and fearing he’d use more strength with the next blow, I braced myself when that hand was raised a second time.

  “Who sent you?” he snarled.

  I was keenly aware of the ringing in my ears, the electric tingle at the base of my skull that indicated he had also given compulsion a try. These two must have transferred in from the North Quadrant, the only region Ianites had developed such an ability.

  His brow quirked a bit when an answer didn’t immediately fly from my mouth like he expected, and anger swelled within him. The open hand balled into a fist then, and I recoiled a bit at the sight of it. However, instead of feeling it slam the side of my face, it fell to Bryson’s side. Not only that, but the heavy boot Embry had brought down on my wrist lifted away, too, and I wasn’t sure what to make of it. The pair certainly hadn’t grown tired of tormenting me, but what I didn’t realize was … we had company.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

&n
bsp; Corina

  “Your Highnesses,” Bryson gulped.

  That assertive, mocking tone of his had suddenly turned small in the princes’ presence, formidable as they were. I glanced up, my eyes climbing the length of one after the other, mesmerized by those steel gazes, the regality they possessed without even trying.

  I guessed Julian had gone to get the others to help him find me after thinking better of letting me run off. My eyes lingered on him and found confusion in his expression as he stared, likely sensing the blood that seeped from the wound, the sweat that beaded around my hairline—my very human responses to being attacked by his kind.

  His brow tensed, a hint that he’d just begun to piece together the events from our first encounter in the ballroom until now. Perhaps it was suddenly clear to him why I felt compassion for the woman we spotted in this very garden, while he stood by content to watch her die. Perhaps he comprehended why, now, these sentinels had deemed my life just as inconsequential as hers.

  Embry took a step back to bow when his partner did the same, relieving my wrist of his weight. No longer pinned to the stone walkway, I gripped the wound that burned beneath my glove. Covering the red stain that seeped through the material was a natural reaction, but it wouldn’t do any good. It had been made abundantly clear I wasn’t one of them.

  There was no way to gauge how much time this interruption would grant me. It wouldn’t have come as a surprise if one of the princes—realizing I impersonated an Ianite—ordered the sentinels to have me put to death tonight. I’d violated several Mortal Bylaws.

  So, I used this time wisely.

  Staggering, I got to my feet and surveyed my surroundings for the quickest, most efficient escape route. With their kinds’ speed and agility, with the tall wall it’d take a miracle for me to scale, I realized the likelihood of getting away was nonexistent.

  The slight movement earned me Julian’s attention—attention in which I had once foolishly relished. Only, his reaction to the Doll being murdered before our eyes had reminded me of what I was to him.