Vessel of Destruction (Daizlei Academy Book 4)

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Vessel of Destruction (Daizlei Academy Book 4) Page 10

by Kel Carpenter


  “Well, well,” the voice behind me said softly. I knew it immediately. “Seems that Victor has left his pet all alone.”

  I kept my eyes on the double doors ahead as I ignored her.

  She didn’t like that.

  “Tell me,” Nikita whispered. This time her fangs nicked the skin and the sickly-sweet scent of my blood filled the hallway. “Did he drink from you before he had his fill? Or did he simply take his pleasure between your thighs before he grew tired?” The way she asked the question had me tilting my head.

  “Is that what he did to you?” I asked her softly, knowing my voice wouldn’t carry beyond those doors. “Did he use you as his blood whore before finding you without use?”

  I’d never been brash in life. Forwardness was rarely rewarded when you were the weaker of the two parties. I let Selena and Alexandra do that, because they could back up the bark with the bite.

  Now it seemed I could too . . . and yet it wasn’t brashness that I desired, but the reaction.

  Brashness would earn me a one-way ticket back to the dungeons, but patience paired with the right choice words . . . that would get me something far greater.

  The darkness in my veins quivered with anticipation as that ancient voice stroked my mind into a calm that not even killing could break.

  I felt her freeze. Funny how even those who never needed to breathe pick up the same habits as the living. It was a weakness. One that I exploited regularly given that Victor expected his pet flower to have the same tells as the monsters that surrounded me.

  “You forget your tongue,” Nikita replied, not answering me directly. It was answer enough. “Victor’s protection or not, you’ll be punished for that.” Her nails trailed along my collarbone, and I knew she couldn’t help herself. Not in this.

  That was alright. I preferred the monsters without restraint.

  It made it all the easier to poke and prod just right—and the explanation took care of itself.

  “Punished?” I asked, letting out a cold laugh so soft that I could have sworn she shivered. “I’m not sure you’re strong enough to back up that statement given you’ve already been stripped of your position on the Council from the last time you thought to defy my master.” I let the words drip from my lips like poison, and she ate them up like an apple from my palm.

  Nails pierced the skin of my shoulder as a hand clamped down around the bone. A crack echoed down the hall, and everyone stilled.

  Everyone but me.

  A slight chuckle slipped from my lips even as the searing pain lit my body on fire. The physical pain of torture was nothing compared to the things my mind had already endured.

  Victor ensured that.

  Nikita stepped into view. Her dark hair framing her cold yet timelessly beautiful face. Monsters always did like to hide in plain sight. I was no exception, dressed in my stark white blouse and pale blue capris. A single drop of black blood landed on my cream-colored ballerina flats as Nikita pulled her hand back.

  I knew what she was going to do before she did it, and still I didn’t stop her as she slapped me.

  For the second time in my life, my neck cracked.

  The sound was an eerie thing, like an echo from a memory that I didn’t want to remember. I lifted my pale hands, and they didn’t shake, not for a fraction of a second as I twisted my head back around without faltering.

  Nikita blinked, and a certain malice entered her gaze. She pulled back to strike me in the chest—her pointed nails tearing through flesh and muscle and bone. My body titled, but I kept my feet planted as she punched a hole straight through my sternum—and wrapped her cold fingers around my heart—useless as it was.

  My lips parted, but I didn’t breathe. Not a single word left me as the agony lit every nerve ending in my skin aflame. The tearing was sharp and brutal, but it was the ache as my skin tried to heal itself, only to feel her hand still lodged in my chest cavity that was a true pain.

  The points of her nails grazed my heart as she toyed with pulling it from my chest.

  And then a handle turned.

  Seventy-two hours. That’s how long I stood in the same spot when a clock chimed at the break of a new dawn and the double doors at the end of the hall swung open.

  Just on time.

  “What is the meaning of . . .” His voice trailed off, and I felt that cord that tied us together pulse once with rage. Nikita blinked, pulled from her bloodlust to realize her error.

  Foolish, stupid woman.

  Her face turned stricken as she tried to hastily pull away from me. Her arm shook as she tried to dislodge her hand from my chest cavity without making the damage worse.

  The pain had blown through those shields of apathy I kept wound around myself as I smiled again. A dry rasp scratched at the back of my throat, making me cough, and black droplets splattered her face as it turned into a wicked laugh.

  A gush of liquid ran down my stomach and pants, saturating my clothes as she finally managed to pull herself free.

  I didn’t stagger, though my vision blurred.

  I didn’t stumble even as she started to back away, leaving me to hold myself up.

  “Lily,” Victor said. My name was a plea on his lips, and it was the tone in his voice that pulled me from the edge of my own crazed mania brought on by the high of feeling something—anything—outside the numbness and rage.

  I looked from her panicked expression to that of Victor’s and despite the pain—despite the misery—I saw the world so clear in that moment. I saw the absolute terror in his expression as he watched me bleed out.

  I wouldn’t die—so long as I had my heart—but that didn’t matter.

  The game had changed because Victor now cared.

  But he didn’t realize it. He didn’t see my actions for what they were.

  No, as he crossed the marbled hallway with silent steps and came to a stop before me with equal parts murder and concern in his eyes—Victor didn’t know that he’d played right into my hand.

  They all had.

  “Flower,” he murmured, his wild eyes taking stock as he looked me up and down. An arm wrapped around my lower back as he used the other to hold the pressure on my chest—lest I bleed out entirely. But I healed remarkably fast, even for a Vampire. “My sweet, beautiful flower,” he murmured, his lips brushing over my hair. “What happened, Lily? Tell me.”

  I didn’t smile this time, though I was certain it didn’t escape his notice before. “You told me to wait. I waited.” His eyes narrowed slightly as he looked over his shoulder.

  “You don’t understand, Victor,” Nikita started. “The girl needed to be shown a lesson in insulting her betters. She’s grown too bold. I was simply punishing her for her words while you and the Council—”

  His lips were drawn back in a snarl before she even finished. A feral, uncontrollable rage in his eyes. They didn’t call him the dark prince for nothing. Nikita and the others were going to be reminded why.

  “Punishing her?” he asked. She nodded rapidly, taking another step back. The other Vampires in the hall stepped away, as though she were a leper and would infect them too. “For what?”

  “She accused me of being a blood whore,” the Born woman answered with only a sliver of the scorn she spoke to me with.

  “After you asked her if I drank from her or simply took pleasure between her thighs.” His words both delighted the monster in me and pleased the ancient voice. Not only those in the hall, but the Vampires beyond turned from the stands where they stood to bear witness. “Interesting how you twist your words, not knowing I could hear them.”

  Nikita spluttered between denying the accusations and asking forgiveness. Victor sighed, his silver eyes settling on me.

  “Lily,” he said. “Nikita attacked you first. I have the right to decide what her punishment would be.” I didn’t so much as twitch when he paused. “However, the High Council and I have come to an agreement that you are simply too extraordinary to be contained as a simple servant Made
.” I blinked, keeping my gaze on his chest, even as two fingers curled around my chin and tilted it up. “Do you understand what I’m saying, flower?”

  Did I understand? Not quite. Not fully.

  If they didn’t want me as a servant . . .

  “What am I to be?” I asked him.

  The smile he gave me, so full of teeth and viciousness, was also sincere. It should have chilled me when he said, “Whatever I want.”

  My lips parted because I understood what he was saying.

  He’d done the impossible. He’d found a way to all but free me, so long as I stayed by his side. So long as I became whatever he wanted.

  There was a time when that would have scared me, but that time was long gone. The darkness hummed in excitement, and I had to work to hold it at bay while he was still touching me. Nikita gasped in outrage, but Victor paid her no mind as he reached into his pocket.

  My lips parted when he extended his hand and his fingers unfurled. Set in a simple silver inlay was the symbol of a House that had ruled the High Council since the dawn of time beyond any living memory.

  The Romanov family crest.

  I lifted my hand and touched a single pale finger to the cool metal, running it over the edges of the ruby stones that had been kept uncut but polished. A single crimson thread was strung through it to make a necklace. A gift.

  Not just any gift.

  “Lily Fortescue, flesh of my flesh, blood of mine—” He walked around me, not relinquishing his grip around my waist as he did so, and if I had a heart it would have hammered like the drums at a funeral procession. Signaling the end of one life, and the beginning of another. “Never have I found someone so perfect as you. So pleasing.” The hand around my waist was lifted as he brushed my hair aside. Fingertips grazed the skin of my neck, and I shivered.

  But not in fear.

  A slight purr came from Victor as the cool metal touched my throat. Not a necklace, I realized, as he tied the ribbon tight—a choker.

  How very fitting.

  “From henceforth you’ll be known as the Mistress of the Dark Prince.” Every Made and lower Born dropped to their knees before us. He leaned forward, and the scent of fresh blood and fallen snow enveloped me as his lips grazed my neck in the same place Nikita touched. “And one day, once we settle the problem of heirs—you’ll be my betrothed,” he whispered for my ears only. I turned my head just a fraction, and his lips trailed down my cheek, kissing the corner of my mouth.

  I didn’t kiss him back, but neither did I pull away.

  Today I’d laid plans for Nikita’s death and my rise.

  Little did I know that my prince was doing the same.

  I could almost love him for that if I didn’t want to kill him so.

  He pulled away and stepped to my side, trailing his fingers over my shoulder and down my arm to clasp my hand in his. What a pair we made; him the picture of beauty and brutality—and me, the girl dressed in blood though it was my eyes that were the color of crimson. He looked like a dream and I his devil.

  But Victor was drawn to pretty and terrible things.

  “If anyone other than I so much as touches her”—he turned that feral smile to the only woman standing in the hall beside me—“she has my explicit permission to kill them however she sees fit.”

  The darkness twisted violently with delight. My veins darkened down my arms as I squeezed the hand he wasn’t holding, trying to push it back. Victor paused, his eyes flicking downwards and then to my face.

  “Tell me, flower, is it my words or my touch that excites that power lurking under your skin?” His words were not loud, nor ostentatiously proclaimed, but the intimacy implied in front of the still kneeling Vampires and open Council doors had that ancient voice in my mind so very pleased with this turn of events.

  I didn’t disagree as I leaned inward and tilted my chin up.

  “Both.”

  The obsidian pupil of Victor’s eyes dilated. I didn’t look away. He leaned forward, his lips grazing mine as he said, “So perfect.”

  The seconds ticked by and then he leaned back and motioned with his other hand toward the woman standing.

  “You touched what was mine knowing the rules forbade her from responding because of your status. I’ll allow my mistress to decide what it is we do with you now, and any others that can’t seem to keep their thoughts or hands to themselves.” Nikita’s face contorted in a mixture of fear and disgust.

  I stepped forward and the darkness sprung the moment Victor’s fingers slipped from mine. A ghost of a touch ran down my back in encouragement. He loved it when I tortured. He adored me when I killed.

  He didn’t know what I did, though. He didn’t realize that every offering he gave was another nail in his own coffin when the time came.

  Made can’t kill their masters, but I was no ordinary Made.

  I reached for Nikita, and she couldn’t run. Not from me. I pulled her up by her neck, writhing and crying. My power would harvest her life force.

  But there was something more I wanted this time.

  I plunged my hand into her chest and ripped away her unbeating heart. Her deep sapphire eyes shattered from a pain too immense to truly convey.

  I couldn’t help the smile as I bit into her heart.

  I couldn’t contain the glee as I looked over her corpse to the Council beyond.

  Vengeance is a virtue, and with enough patience—everything would be mine.

  I jolted awake from a light brush of someone’s presence against my own.

  My eyes opened, hands balled into fists as I prepared to fight the intruder, but it was only Ash.

  He gave me a tight smile, and the gold of his eyes was telling in the way he searched my face. Our hearts hammered in unison for a single, taut moment.

  Then he whispered, “It’s time.”

  And despite the soreness in my muscles, or the dryness of my throat, or tears on my face—I pushed all memories aside and prepared myself to meet the Witches.

  Chapter 14

  Colorful swaths of fabric drifted in front of me, blending in with the red walls of a bazaar in Marrakesh. Street vendors called out in Arabic. Men and women of all walks of life pressed in around me, unsettling my demon. Neither of us were massive fans of crowds, but we made do, keeping a careful eye on my cousin while we did so.

  Blair walked stiffly, weaving around the others in the street without touching anyone. Every few minutes, though, her hand would twitch, or she’d go still. It was the only tell that not all was what it seemed. Her demon was restless and fighting, and we’d yet to reach the meeting point.

  “How much farther?” I asked loud enough that it would carry to the front of our party, where Xellos was leading. As our only contact to the Witches, it fell on him to deliver our message and communicate their response. They didn’t trust their location with outsiders, and because of that, Xellos’ work with Tam was put on hold so we could meet.

  “Not long now,” he called back, still pushing forward. Fingers brushed my shoulder and I glanced over. Ash slowly looked from me to Blair and nodded in her direction once. He wouldn’t say it out loud because she could hear us, but he wanted to know how she was. I pressed my lips together in a look that conveyed it all. He sighed and nodded.

  On either side of her, Alexandra and Johanna trailed her like a parent did a wandering child. No one said it, but everyone here was keeping a watchful eye on her. Blair’s fragile control was too weak for anyone to be comfortable bringing her, but they also realized we didn’t have a choice. Without me or Johanna there to stop her should she go full demon again, she was a greater threat to the Shifters than we could afford—especially when we needed their loyalty. Bringing her with us was a far from ideal situation, but in this case we didn’t have another choice.

  None of us were happy, but for the alliance we needed we all made do.

  Still, Blair’s twitching was beginning to happen more frequently, and I knew her demon wasn’t far. I subtly shifted cl
oser, sliding up beside her.

  “I don’t like this,” she said without looking at me.

  “Me neither.” I brushed a sweaty lock of hair from my face, tucking it back under my head scarf. “But we need this alliance, and they won’t come to us, so we have no choice but to go to them. It’s not like we have many options.”

  “I know,” she said, her eyes scanning the balconies and the vendors as she wove through the crowd without paying it much mind. Like the rest of us, her blonde hair had been tucked away from watching eyes. “But I don’t like it,” she continued. “We’re too out in the open and after the last few times we left the residence . . .”

  She let her voice trail off, but she didn’t need to say more for me to get the gist and agree with her. Every time we left the residence people died. This time we didn’t even have Alec to disguise us. Given that his presence did nothing but aggravate Blair’s demon more, and the connection with Anastasia as her ex-right hand, everyone thought it best to leave him home with Scarlett and Liam. While his arm was on the mend, he still wasn’t in any real shape to fight just yet. Then there was the matter of Lucas’s record at attempted escapes, so someone had to be left in charge. Scarlett’s ability to hold a grudge made her the best one for the job since Johanna and I were needed for this.

  Still . . . them not being here left us all at a disadvantage.

  A cloud passed overhead, giving sweet relief from the burning heat. I wiped the sweat from my brow and took a passing glance over the crowd. A prickle up the back of my neck told me to be vigilant. This was a surprise mission, but that didn’t mean our enemies weren’t here watching.

  Wind whipped through the street and my head scarf blew back, slipping from my shoulders into the open air. It soared twenty feet high, the dark blue material twisting and twining.

  Then it happened.

  One moment I was staring at the floating blue fabric and the next a sense of dread curdled in my stomach. It came out of nowhere and filled me so fully.

 

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