What if he thought I’d gone with the Ascended of my own accord, even after everything I’d seen and been told? Tightness seized my chest, but I couldn’t worry about that now. I glanced at the door. Over the sound of the carriage wheels, I could hear the pounding of hooves. We weren’t alone.
“If you’re planning to escape, I would advise against such a foolish thing,” Lord Chaney stated. “We are traveling at quite a speed, and I doubt you would survive such a fall. But if you did, know that we do not travel alone. Sir Terrlynn rides beside us, as do several knights and guards.”
Drawing in a shallow breath, I ignored the sharp rise of nausea as I met the pitch-black eyes of the vampry. A chill swept over my skin. Even though I hadn’t considered throwing myself out of the door of a speeding carriage, I was definitely planning on escaping. I had no idea how long I’d been in the library, but I figured we were several hours away from dawn, when the Lord and the knights would need to seek shelter from the sun. That would be my chance to escape.
And then what?
I had no idea, but I would have to figure that out when I got to that point. Until then, it would be best if I could convince the Lord that I was a willing participant in this.
“Why would you think I’d want to escape?” I asked as I leaned back, folding my hands in my lap as I crossed my ankles. I sat just like I would if I wore the veil. It was like slipping on a mask—a suffocating and toxic disguise. “I feared that no one would come for me. I’m surprised that you found me so quickly.”
“We have eyes everywhere, Maiden,” he replied, rubbing at the space above his wound. “Even in places where the Descenters are firmly entrenched.”
“Is that how you found Mrs. Tulis? The woman who…who was with you?” In this very carriage, possibly where I was sitting. And now she was dead on the cold ground. Where was her son?
A tight smile appeared. “It was mere coincidence that we happened upon her. She was on foot, a few miles outside of New Haven, walking in the snow. She was nearly frozen when we found her. What an idiot.” He let out a rough laugh, and I wanted to strike out at him, making his laugh the last breath he took. “She claimed that the Dark One had killed her husband.”
Mrs. Tulis hadn’t chosen any of Casteel’s options. Heart sinking even further into grief, I suppressed a shudder. Had Casteel known that Mrs. Tulis had left? Could I blame her? She probably feared the same would happen to her.
“We were already en route to New Haven, only a handful of days behind you,” he told me. “We discovered that several of those who were escorting you were not who they claimed. The Descenters had worked their way even into the highest ranks of our guards.”
Did he mean Commander Jansen? It would make sense if they’d discovered that he had helped Casteel. If so, I knew Jansen was dead.
“So, Mrs. Tulis was an unexpected find, but she confirmed that a woman traveled with the Dark One, someone that others whispered was the Maiden,” he told me, swallowing thickly. “She was right.”
“But if you knew that, why did you kill her?” I asked, a part of me needing to understand such an action.
“She fled the city instead of obeying the order of the Rite.”
I waited for him to say more, but there were no other words. I inhaled sharply, nearly gagging on the floral scent of his cologne. “And what of her child? Her son?”
Lord Chaney simply smiled. There was no explanation. Nothing. Dread knotted in my chest at the sight of the cold, inhuman curve of his lips. He couldn’t have done something to the child. Right? My eyes closed briefly. My refusal didn’t come from a place of naivety, but from the inability to fathom how one could smile if they had harmed an infant. But there were all those children, some so young, that were given over to the Temples during the Rite. No one ever saw them again for a reason, and it had nothing to do with their service to the gods.
“What of the boy?” I opened my eyes. “His parents may have been Descenters, but he is only a child.”
“He remains at the keep.”
That was a small measure of relief, but I latched on to it. Anything to stop myself from vomiting as I fixed what I hoped was a serene expression on my face. A look of blind, devoted trust as he watched me, and I…watched him.
Lord Chaney could be considered a handsome man. I’d overheard a few of the Ladies in Wait, those second daughters given to the Court to Ascend, speak of him. But I didn’t remember him being this pale. His skin was leached of all color, and I could see the faint blue veins underneath.
“Are you…well?” I asked. “The wound appears…quite fierce.”
“It is a very…fierce wound.” He continued massaging his chest. The lines bracketing his mouth deepened as his lips parted. “Penellaphe?”
I twitched at the sound of my name. “Yes, my Lord?”
He still hadn’t blinked. Not once since I woke up, and wasn’t that entirely unsettling? “You can stop pretending.”
Ice hit my veins. “Pretending what?”
Chaney leaned toward me, and I tensed. His fingers stilled. “Tell me something, Maiden. Did you welcome the bite of an Atlantian? Perhaps even enjoy the forbidden blood kiss? Or did he force it upon you? Hold you down and take your blood against your will?”
That damn bite.
My fingernails dug into my palms. “It…it was not welcomed.”
A hint of red churned in the black abyss of his eyes. Just like a Craven. Gods. “Is that so?” he asked.
I nodded.
“The Dark One bit you, and yet, you sit before me, not as a Craven. That must’ve come as a shock.”
Gods, I’d forgotten that. How could I have forgotten that the Ascended had taught us that an Atlantian’s bite was poisonous? “Yes, but I am the Chosen—”
“And you saw us tonight, out in the yard. You saw what we are,” he interrupted. “Yet you do not seem surprised. You showed more shock and concern regarding that woman’s death.” He lifted a hand, placing it on the bench beside my knee. “You say you’re relieved that I found you?”
“I am.”
He laughed softly. “I don’t believe you.”
All of my senses went on alert as I spared a brief glance at his hand. The veins stood out starkly. He was not well. Not at all.
Chaney tsked softly under his breath. “The King and Queen are going to be so displeased.”
I didn’t dare take my eyes off him. “Displeased by what? You ordering a knight to strike me?”
“They may be unhappy to learn that, yes, but I do believe they’ll be more disturbed to learn you’ve been compromised.” The red burned brighter in his eyes. “And most likely in more ways than one.”
The implication in his tone ignited my temper, and for a moment, I remembered that I wore no veil. “You should be more concerned about yourself.” I met his stare. “You’re not looking well, Lord Chaney. Perhaps the wound is more serious than you realize.”
“That bastard Atlantian almost got my heart,” he said, features turning hollow. “But I’ll survive.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” I bit out.
“I’m sure you are.” The carriage hit a rock, jostling me, but Chaney didn’t seem to notice. “There was a reason I was charged with finding you. Do you know why that is?”
“Your patience and generosity?”
His chuckle was like nails dragging along my nerve endings. “I didn’t know the Maiden was so feisty.”
I arched a brow.
“I was chosen because I know what you truly are.”
I forced my hands to unclench.
“I know what is really in your blood, and I dare say I know more than even you do.”
“Is that so?”
His lips parted, and I wanted to recoil from the sight of his fangs—a reaction that was nothing like when I saw Casteel’s. “You cannot even begin to comprehend why you were Chosen, but that’s neither here nor there. You’ll learn soon enough.”
“And what is it that I will learn?”<
br />
His eyes, a kaleidoscope of red and black, fixed on me—on my neck. “That you will usher in a whole new era of Ascended.”
Disgust rippled through me. “Do you think I don’t already know that?”
“I don’t think you can even possibly begin to understand what that means. But be that as it may, you were right. I am a bit more wounded than I let on. If it hadn’t been bloodstone, it would be healing by now. I’ve said to the Queen and King, time and time again, that all the bloodstone needs to be destroyed. But without it, she worries that the Craven would then overwhelm the people.”
“Can’t have your food source being destroyed now, can you?” I said before I could stop myself.
“The Dark One has obviously been whispering in your ear.” His tongue ran along his bottom lip. “He’s obviously been doing more than that.”
“It doesn’t matter what he’s been doing.” I smiled just as coldly as he. “What does matter is that I know why I’m the Queen’s favorite. I know what you all plan to do with me. I know you won’t touch me. I’m needed alive so that I can either keep the Atlantian you have held in captivity fed or be used to make more Ascended.”
His head tilted. “You’re right about one thing. We do need you alive. That’s about it.”
Before I could even process what he said, that I was only right about one thing, he rose and moved toward me.
And I reacted.
Leaning back, I planted my booted foot in his chest and kicked him back to his bench.
His eyes widened as he laughed. “Dear Maiden, that was unnecessary. I just need a sip. The King and Queen never need to know. It will be our secret. One you would be wise to keep—”
I kicked out again, catching him in the chest once more.
He hissed in pain. “That wasn’t very nice,” he snarled as I shifted, reaching for the knife. “That actually hurt.”
“That was the point.” I unsheathed the blade, holding it steady. “If you know as much as you think you do about me, then you’ll realize I know how to use this. It may not kill you, but I can make you wish it would.”
His burning black eyes widened as he held up his hands. “Now. Now.” His tone was placating. Patronizing. “There’s no need for threats of violence.”
“There’s not?” Keeping an eye on him, I scooted across the bench, toward the door.
He tracked my movements. “Did you forget about the speed in which we’re traveling? The knights?”
“I’d rather take my chances of being trampled to death. At least I’ll go to the grave knowing you’ll probably be right behind me once the King and Queen learn that I’m dead because of you.” I reached for the door—
Chaney struck.
I expected him to go for the knife. I reared back. The moment his hand reached around my ankle, I realized I had made a fatal miscalculation. He yanked hard, pulling me off the bench. My back cracked off the edge of the seat, sending a jolt to my already aching head as I went down hard in the cramped space.
He pulled me toward him, over the rough, dirty, wet floor, laughing the whole while. “There’s no point in fighting—”
Gripping his knee, I sat up, swinging the knife with all my might into his chest—into the angry, seeping wound.
Chaney howled, lashing out. His fist caught my jaw, snapping my head back. Bright bursts of light crowded the sides of my vision as he fell back in his seat, clutching at his chest. I struggled to my feet. The carriage jerked, pitched me back and then forward. Grabbing his shoulder for balance, I climbed onto him. He twisted under me, moving onto his back and then rolled, throwing me to the side. I crashed into the back of the bench, hitting the cushions and then fell to the floor. Air punched out of my lungs in a painful rush. I started to sit up, but Chaney dropped on top of me.
“I don’t know how the Teermans managed to be around you, knowing what you truly are. Not without stealing just a taste. You may only be half-Atlantian, but your blood is potent.” His weight and the stench of his cologne was unbearable, suffocating as he gripped my left arm, yanking it to his mouth. “I just need a little bit. Then the damn throbbing in my chest will stop—”
“No!” I shouted, struggling wildly beneath him. All my years of training disappeared in a flood of panic. I kicked the bottom of the bench with the leg that wasn’t pinned. I kicked him, the floor, the seat—
But it was no use.
The vampry’s teeth shredded my skin, sinking into the flesh of my lower arm.
Chapter 16
My arm was on fire.
The flames blazed through my body, so intense and all-consuming, I feared it would stop my heart.
I was scared that it already had because I was burning alive, screaming as I pressed against the floor, trying to escape the pain, get away from what was happening, but it invaded every part of me. I could feel it—him drawing my blood into him, breaking off pieces of me with each swallow. It was nothing like when Casteel had bitten me. The pain did not ease. It didn’t go away. It ratcheted up with each passing heartbeat.
He moaned, biting harder, digging his bottom teeth into my skin. Just like a Craven. Just like before. Like that night when I was too small and too young to fight back, too helpless.
The carriage screeched to a grinding halt, knocking Chaney loose. A moment of reprieve came where the burning ebbed enough for my brain to work again. My breath wheezed as my fingers spasmed around the handle of the knife. The knife. I still held it. I wasn’t a child. I wasn’t helpless any longer. Move, Poppy. Move.
Chaney latched on to my arm once more, and the pain was a hot coal against my skin, shoving me past the shock of pain before it could drag me under again.
I swung the knife down, driving it into his back, over and over until he finally felt it, finally reacted with a bellow of rage as he tore his mouth free. He lurched backward and to the side, reaching for the knife. Clutching his shoulder, I held on, jabbing the knife into the wound, into his chest, his face—anywhere I could reach, and he went wild—as wild as me. A new wave of pain exploded along my arm, my cheek, and bright, dazzling lights once more danced across my vision. I screamed as something seemed to rip open inside me. My senses stretched out, attaching to the Ascended. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing but my pain, my rage. It pulsed and throbbed inside me, through me, down the cord, and through the entire carriage, becoming a tangible, third entity as I sliced the knife through his cheek. Chaney jerked back, yelping. Blood sprayed and spurted, running from his eyes and ears. I didn’t stop. Not even when a crash sounded from the roof of the carriage. Not even when I thought I heard shouting from outside. I stabbed as many holes into the Lord as I could, until he sprang so many leaks, my hands were slick with his blood, my blood, and I kept thrusting the knife into him, over and over—
The carriage door ripped open, torn from its hinges. Cold air rushed in with the night, and the night was enraged. It washed over me, its intensity so stunning, it overwhelmed me, shutting down my senses.
And then Chaney was gone, along with the crushing weight and the heavy, too-sweet cologne, but I couldn’t stop. Blinded by rage, pain, and an old, all-too-familiar panic, I kept stabbing at the air, at the night, at the shape that filled the gaping doorway, and then at what appeared above me. Until a hand caught my wrist—
“It’s okay. Shh, it’s okay, Poppy. Stop. Look at me,” a voice demanded. “Look at me, Princess.”
Princess.
The Ascended wouldn’t call me that.
Breathing ragged, my wild gaze swiveled around the carriage, stopping when I found him. He hovered over me, cheeks spotted with blood. “Hawke,” I whispered.
“Yeah. Yes.” He sounded shredded and windblown. “It’s me.”
“I..I didn’t want to go with him,” I told him, needing him to know that I understood—that I really saw the Ascended for what they were, even before I woke up in the carriage. “He had a boy, and I—”
“I know. I found the wolven dagger by the stables. I knew you wouldn�
�t have left that behind if you’d had a choice.” Gently, he pried the knife from my hand, placing it on the bench. The normally striking lines of his face seemed fuzzy. “And here I thought I would make this grand entrance, rescuing you. I’m not sure you needed rescuing.”
I wasn’t so sure about that. My rolling gaze landed on the bloodied knife. Even as dazed as I was, as much as my thoughts were muddied, I knew I wouldn’t have killed Chaney. I wasn’t even sure how badly I’d wounded him. He would’ve recovered quickly, and he would’ve bitten me again. He would’ve kept biting me, feeding off me, and—
“Hey, stay with me.” Casteel’s soft voice intruded, ending the spiral of panic before I realized I was even falling down it. His fingers touched my chin, drawing my gaze from the knife. His eyes roamed over my face, lingering where my jaw throbbed viciously, and then his gaze dipped. Tension crept into his jaw. “He hurt you.”
Lifting my head took more effort than I thought it would. It was strangely heavy as I looked down. The front of my tunic was ripped, streaked with red.
“You’re bleeding,” he said, his voice rough as he touched the skin below the corner of my lip. That too ached, but then his hands carefully peeled back the left sleeve of my tunic. He became as still as the statues inside Castle Teerman, as if he too were fashioned from the limestone they were made of.
His eyes were like shards of brilliant amber. “Did he bite you anyplace else?”
“No.” I swallowed dryly, the rigidness seeping out of my muscles. “It hurt. It felt like a Craven’s bite.” A tremor rocked me. “It felt nothing like—”
His eyes met mine, and a long moment passed as he stared down at me like he…like he cared, as if he would do anything to take back the pain I felt. “He wanted it to hurt.”
“Bastard,” I whispered, letting my head fall back.
Casteel slipped his hand under my head before it could make contact with the hard floor. I wanted to tell him thank you, but my face hurt—my entire body ached, and my arm throbbed and throbbed.
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