by J. L. Myers
Troy glared, sending a bolt of daggers at me. Then his arm released and he stepped back.
Free, I scrambled forward and reopened the healing punctures before holding out my wrist. Any voltage was redirected down to my other hand. Ty’s eyes met mine for a moment, trusting and hopeful. He took my arm and pressed the bleeding wound to his lips. Scarlet dripped from the corners of his hot lips, sending a current of gooseflesh all the way down to my toes.
Troy paced behind me, clearly fighting the impulse to tear my bleeding flesh from his alpha. Dorian was deceptively leaning against the cell’s back wall, his knee propped up. His unblinking eyes were zoned in on Troy and a dagger was in his hand. He wasn’t about to let Troy get the upper hand again.
After what seemed like minutes but couldn’t have even been thirty seconds, Ty released my wrist and winced. He glanced down, face pinching at his bloody, bone-protruding arm. “It’s not working.” He rattled the chains hanging from his wrists. “Your blood can’t heal me. Not with these.”
“I know. The symbols prevent it.” I straightened and took Ty’s hand. There was no way to know if my idea would work, expect to test it. “But don’t you feel something?” Desperate hope tightened my chest. “Somehow different?”
Ty pressed his free hand against the center of his chest. “Yeah. Like there’s a ball of energy trapped in here.”
This was as close to a sign that my idea could work as we were going to get. I lifted Ty to his feet, staring into his dull honey-glazed eyes. “I need you to try to imprint me.”
“Imprint you? Why? What good…” His words broke off with understanding, eyes shining with the briefest glint of possibility. “You mean…”
“That’s ridiculous,” Troy cut in. “He can barely stand. He can’t even heal. We’re just wasting time we don’t have. We need to consider amputation.”
“You want to mutilate your own alpha?” Dorian’s leg fell off the wall with a look of sheer disbelief.
“With what we have to work with?” Troy sneered over his shoulder at my brother. “It’s our only hope to get out of here alive.”
“No. It’s not,” I said, imagining Ty with gory stumped legs and arms. “It’s torture. And it’s not necessary.”
Troy stalked forward so that his seething face was a breath away from mine. “What if it doesn’t work?”
To that I didn’t have a comeback. What would we do? What could we?
Before I could utter my total blank response, Ty’s hand tightened around mine. A succession of cracks erupted between us. I stared wide-eyed, pain from a cracked bone in my hand shooting up my arm. Ty was doing it. He was actually doing it.
Deep growls reverberated from his throat as his entire shell vibrated, blurring and changing right before our eyes. His head fell and his height slanted with a crack of one leg. The breaking of the second leveled it. His complexion paled, tan turning porcelain. Black as night hair lengthened and streamed down from the roots in a blond wave. The hand still holding so tight to mine became soft as cashmere, no longer broad and marked with callouses from his many years of fighting experience. When Ty’s body had stopped shaking, still draped and scarcely covered by his torn clothes, his head rose.
“It worked.” My hand came up, marveling at the face I had known my entire life. My own silver-blue irises, pale lips, and porcelain skin.
Ty stared down at himself, head shaking as if he couldn’t believe it. His hand released mine then his arms dropped. The shackles slid straight from his wrists, clattering to the ground. He swayed and dropped back onto the chain-strung cot, his back hitting the wall. Watching him and seeing my own likeness, I almost felt the stone wall’s hard connection. It was eerie and surreal, but I couldn’t dwell on it.
I dropped to the ground and began tugging at the shackle around his now slender right ankle. Dorian fell to my other side, and with a little edging and pulling we managed to free both restraints without inflicting too much pain.
As they fell to the floor, a harsh noise tore from Ty’s throat. He fell sideways, hitting the thin, soiled mattress and tucking into a ball. Seconds later and after a torturous cry, Ty had returned to his former self. He rolled to his back, heaving as if the air was thin of oxygen. A glimmer of gold flashed in his glassy eyes. “We did it.”
“He needs more.” I sent a quick glance at Troy. Needing his approval wasn’t the issue. But I wanted to prevent another bust-up.
Fury at my statement blotted his face red. Still he nodded as if to say do it.
I slashed a nail across my wrist and dropped to my knees, pressing the bloody gash to Ty’s mouth. He coughed then swallowed. After a few seconds he lifted his hands to clutch my arm. Déjà vu washed over me. Ty had tasted my blood this way when he’d needed to heal on the cruise after being wounded by the damned. That time and the one just before, my blood had flowed freely with my pulse. This time Ty’s unbroken suction drew it from me, faster and faster. I gasped at the sensation and Ty broke his hold. His irises rippled for the briefest moment with that glorious gold.
“Are you okay?” Worry that he’d hurt me creased his face. Yet as he said the words, the black and purple bruises maiming his face began to fade. The puffiness to his eye and lip receded.
“You’re healing,” I cried. Total relief brightened what had minutes ago been a dire situation.
In the back corner of my mind I became acutely aware of Marika repeating the sworn oath as the vampires’ recognized their Oracle. The oath that would bind her to deliver the truth of her visions. During the words her ruse held, her voice matching my own, her copycat features determined. She was pulling it off. When she’d completed the oath, Kendrick’s sight slid from my double. He threw a quick look at the blood-filled chalice in his hands. Then his gaze lifted to the ticking clock poised below the second level balcony. The time didn’t matter, but his message was clear.
“The coronation is almost complete.” My vision returned to the dank cell and Ty. “The guards will be sent to retrieve you any minute. We need to leave. Now.”
With a look of determination, Troy reached between us and straightened out Ty’s broken arm. “Ready?”
Ty’s lips thinned and he nodded. Before I could ask ready for what? Troy gripped above and below the exposed bone in Ty’s forearm and twisted. A wicked crack broke the air as the bone snapped back into one straight piece. The pain must have been unbearable, but Ty didn’t cry out or even curse. Instead he squeezed his lids shut and clenched his jaw with a screeching grind of his teeth. When it was over, my blood had worked as much of its healing power as it could.
Ty got up with a helping hand from Troy and Dorian. “Let’s blow this dump.”
We all bolted through the cell’s door, making for the first exit we’d need to clear. Figuring our way out of the building and past the army of guards marking the exterior would be a play-by-play.
As we passed the body of the last guard we’d rendered unconscious, an electric current shot into my chest. Panic crippled my soul. I froze, hand bracing against the stone wall. “Wait!”
The other three stalled at the high shrill tone of my voice. “What’s wrong?” Dorian asked.
Breathing wasn’t an option, and my brain swam without oxygen. “Something’s wrong. Marika—”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
My mind shifted, occupying Kendrick’s and seeing through his eyes. On the elevated dais before him were six seated royals, all donning long cloaks.
The seventh was Caius, standing before my double and holding out the chalice filled with peppery Pure Blood.
Each reigning royal had donated their own blood to fill the chalice as part of the ritual to recognize and bless their new Oracle. All Marika, still perfectly masked as me, had to do was drink it. All of it.
Now in her hands, the chalice lifted inch by slow inch until its cold edge grazed her lower lip.
There was an instantaneous hush all around as she tipped the cup, not wavering even a nanosecond. Yet as the blood flowed
into her mouth, an unmissable flash of gold crossed my mirrored eyes.
That was all he needed to see.
Caius took back the empty chalice, stepping back to place it on the altar. He scrutinized my double. Then his unwavering voice rose over the dense crowd of eager vampires. “This is not my niece.”
Caius unsheathed the sword at his back and gasps rang out over the crowd. It was the same sword that had been used to bleed out each royal’s blood for the offering. He pointed the gleaming edge at my double’s heart. His eyes blazed, incredulous and crazed. “Traitor!”
My mom jumped up from the front row, clearing the rise to the dais to land between Caius and his readying sword. “Caius, stop! What in the world are you doing?”
“Caius knows I’m not me,” I said, while still watching through Kendrick’s eyes.
A hot, calloused hand gripped mine and pulled, forcing me along a path I couldn’t see. Rushing words blew through my ears, but I couldn’t make sense of them. My total focus was a level above us, watching the horror unfold.
Caius retracted his sword a few inches and regarded my mom with a hard look. “Lamayli, this is not your daughter. This is an—” He moved with blurred speed, his wielding arm burying the sword in Marika’s stomach. “Imposter!”
Uproar exploded and guards closed in on the stage.
Kendrick rushed forward as Caius’s sword drew free, glistening blade dripping bright with crimson. He caught Marika right before she collapsed to the ground and hauled her sideways.
My mom screamed with violent disbelief. She threw herself onto Caius as guards stood by, waiting for a command.
Marcus rose and strode toward Kendrick, while the rest of The Council sat in unmoving shock.
Except for Uriel. She flung off her cloak to reveal silver stakes strapped to her sides. Among the growing panic rising from the crowd, she was the only one to speak. “In heaven’s name, what have you done?” She pinned Caius with a piercing stare, curling a gloved hand around one of the stakes.
My mom continued beating her fists into Caius who seemed unperturbed by her onslaught. “That is not Miss Amelia Lamont,” he bellowed loud enough to cover the noise of everyone watching as he pointed his stained sword. “She is not even a vampire.”
As the word vampire rang out the audience hushed.
Kendrick’s sight dropped, looking at my double who had pulsing blood pouring from her abdomen. Just as fast as Ty had morphed back to himself after imprinting me, so did Marika. Her blond hair receded, turning black and glossy. Her body bulged, tight once again in my coronation dress. And with tearing hazel eyes, and skin a tan contrast to the almost translucent porcelain it had been seconds before, the recession to her former self was complete.
With Caius’s clarifying words, “She’s a lycan!” the entire court swarmed into anarchy.
“What’s happening?” Dorian’s voice came from behind me. His hand pressed against my back, helping guide the way while Ty hauled me relentlessly forward. “Are they okay?”
“It’s M-Marika.” My vision merged back to the corridors we were speeding through. The image of blood pouring from Marika’s abdomen rose every time I blinked. I clutched at the phantom pain lancing through my own stomach and gagged, swallowing the rise of vomit. “Caius’s…sword. He…” The words died on my tongue, too horrific to spit out. But they had to know. “He ran her through.”
Ty’s grip on my hand tightened, forcing me on even faster. “I’ll kill him.”
“Is she dead?” Troy’s snarl was more animal than human, his inner wolf threatening to break free.
With a slow blink, I saw the chaos. A maelstrom of volatile wind had formed. Inside it, Kendrick had managed to drag Marika to the back corner stairs leading to the second level balcony. Blood continued to leak from her healing wound, but her complexion had grown pale. She would die before the blood flow stopped. She coughed and crimson pooled from her mouth and ran down her chin. Kendrick used a blade to score his forearm and forced it to her mouth.
All of a sudden I was forced to a standstill. The hall blacked out like a light and the red-tinted corridor appeared. We had cleared the lower level and were now a corridor’s length from the glass security station.
“I asked you a question, leech.” Troy pressed an arm against my windpipe, pinning me against the wall.
My mouth opened, but nothing came out. Pressure tightened my chest and striking pain pierced my neck. A gentle push down is all it would take to crush bone.
Quick as a flash, two figures shot to either side of us. Ty had his hands around Troy’s neck, and Dorian belted into the guy’s chest while tearing his arm back from my throat. They threw him at the opposite stone wall.
With murder in his eyes, Ty’s face tilted, huge canines sliding free. “Touch her again,” he snarled, blocking the space between Troy and me, “and I will tear out your fucking throat.”
Keeping them in his line of sight, Dorian came to my side to inspect the damage. “Anything broken?”
I rubbed the blazing flesh while my focus remained on the wolves. “No.” Troy looked milliseconds from taking on Ty’s threat. And I couldn’t have it. I went to Ty’s side and tugged on his shoulder. “Stop it. Both of you.” I tried not to let Troy’s radiating hatred poison my expression. “Lives are at stake and we need to work together.”
Ty released his hold, but didn’t move or retract his canines.
“I know you’re worried about Marika, but she’s okay. Kendrick’s with her. He’s helping her heal.”
Troy breathed through flared nostrils. Then he pushed off the wall. Quiet cracks erupted with the elongation of his mouth, and his teeth grew to razor-sharp canines. “With his blood?” His mouth twisted while his hazel eyes raged with golden flecks. A succession of louder cracks erupted with the outraged cry of a human voice turning wild.
“Kendrick’s doing what’s needed to save her life,” Dorian cut in.
But no words could stop what was already set in motion. In seconds Troy had transformed into a dark-chocolate-colored wolf. Ty blocked his way before he could take off. “Touch Kendrick and I’ll let her,” he flashed his hard stare at me, “kill you. You get them out and that’s it. No casualties.”
Troy snarled then let out a bark. His skull dipped and tilted, then he took off, paws pelting the ground as he ran. Without pause we shot after him.
As we reached the cross paths that split from the station, Kendrick’s voice rang through my ears. Amelia, left!
“This way.” I tugged on Ty’s hand, redirecting the three of us along the corridor that snaked left from the glass station. “Troy will catch up.” Kendrick was sending us directly to the council hall. And we needed every second we could get. If my vision was right, and my gut told me it was, the damned would be busting in any second now.
Part of me needed to stay for the fight. Everyone in that hall was here to see me. Their Oracle. Caius may have brought them here, but attendance wasn’t mandatory. I couldn’t abandon them. Not when I knew of the mortal danger to come. But if I stayed?
I’d seen Ty bleeding and weak, being cut up by Caius’s sword. I didn’t know the outcome, and I didn’t want to stick around to find out.
As we reached the last bend before immersing ourselves in the loud riot that poured through the arched entrance, I tugged Ty back. With forceful hands, I shoved his shoulders back against the wall. “Wait!” Dorian paused, and I nodded him on. “Get to Kendrick and move Marika to the second level balcony. We’ll be right behind you.”
Dorian disappeared around the bend, pulling the folded crossbow from his backpack and flinging it out into operation.
“Amelia, we don’t have time for this.” Ty watched after my brother, body twitching to take after him. “They need our help.”
“I know. But I need you to promise me something.” At Ty’s raised eyebrows I went on. “Promise me that we’ll get to our friends and you’ll get out.”
“That’s the plan, isn’t it?” Ty’
s expression shifted, speculation drawing his lips open. “Amelia, what aren’t you telling me?”
That Caius will come gunning for you. I gulped and bit my lip.
Before I could speak, a crash of glass imploding split through the air.
In a flash we appeared at the arched opening to the council hall and stood frozen in horror. Every glimmering glass pane surrounding the hall had been smashed in. Streaming through them and filling the hall were countless figures, a moving wall of viciousness closing in on all the vampires below. All draped in black with gray translucent flesh, their piercing red pupils shone with starvation.
Shouts came from the dais, instruction for all living vampires to arm themselves. The shock of having a lycan impersonating their Oracle was easily forgotten. Every vampire inside the hall was moving. Some made for the exits, while others scrambled over each other to arm themselves with the many weapons that had been stowed beneath boxed benches lining the hall.
Still positioned on the dais was the Royal Vampire Council. Every one of them was armed to the teeth. Some clutched silver stakes while the rest unsheathed gleaming silver swords from the backs of their thrones.
Before the RVC were their immediate family members. These ones had clearly been alerted to the possible attack, because they were now all brandishing an assortment of weapons. They leaped into battle, weapons swinging past those still rushing to get armed. But they weren’t fast enough. The damned moved like lightning, their blurred figures rendering bodies lifeless quicker than they could be taken down. In the melee one thing was glaringly apparent. Caius was nowhere to be seen and neither was my mom.
Kendrick hauled an almost unconscious Marika up the stairs to the balcony. Dorian covered them, firing off rounds from his crossbow at the swarming damned. I shuddered as they reached the balcony railing. Damned were crawling up the walls like spiders.
Desperation and fear clung to my heart and soul. We didn’t have long. “Ty, will you leave with them?”
