Dracula stared back at her, his face pale. He could not speak or move, but…
He was sobbing.
“Tears?” she laughed. “I know tears, vampire.”
I frowned, approaching Nero before he managed to hurt himself. Killing Dracula’s brides had been the last straw for the man, breaking his morale entirely—taking away the last things he cared about. He had been resigned to his fate. Why the sudden remorse?
I reached Nero and flinched as he stabbed a bone finger down onto the floor near my foot. He sketched a hasty symbol into the wood, using his own blood. Green magic incinerated the gag in a puff of vapor and he retched loudly. I managed to crouch down, almost toppling onto him in the process as the room tilted wildly.
Nero gripped me frantically, his bone claw digging deep into my arm. “You do know that’s not Dracula, right?” he whisper-shouted at me, flicking his eyes at Dracula.
50
I stared at my friend with a baffled look, wondering if he’d hit his head. “Nosh said you knew, and then Eve confirmed it, saying it would be your little secret.” He glanced over at Bubble, who was walking in a slow, wide circle around the motionless vampire, tapping her lips with a dark grin as if debating how she wanted to punish him first. “Nosh staged the fight outside the castle to make the switch. He’s a skinwalker!” My lips tingled as what felt like a bucket of frigid water rolled down my scalp. Nero was staring at me, jostling me. “I thought you knew until I saw how anxious you were to leave him here!” he hissed. “Then Bubble showed up and I thought it might have been your plan all along! But then you told your wife to kill your own fucking son!”
“Oh my god,” I whispered. I hadn’t approved of this, I had approved of Nosh punching Dracula. Not becoming his double!
I spun to find Bubble spinning a wicked dagger in one palm. But she was frowning at Dracula’s—no, Nosh’s—nullification cuffs.
“Stop!” I shouted at Bubble, fighting against a sudden wave of dizziness. “That’s not—”
“What is beneath these cuffs?” Bubble demanded in a shout, interrupting me as she rounded on Hazel. The Speaker stared at her with a blank look. “What trickery is this?” She touched a pink ribbon poking out from beneath Nosh’s right shackle, and she instantly recoiled, her face darkening with fury as she lifted her dagger in alarm. “They reek of magic. These are magical bonds—
The ribbons that Aphrodite had given Nosh whipped to life at the command word, bonds, immediately slithering over Bubble’s body and arms, trapping her in place with her hands overhead. I let out a breath of relief. Bubble hissed like a caged cat. The ribbons began to choke her in an attempt to knock her out, because Nosh could not physically escape and was doing everything in his power to keep his deadly mother at bay.
“It’s Nosh!” I shouted weakly, my blood loss making the entire room seem to wobble and tilt.
Nero was shouting right along with me, and I heard Izzy racing towards us, abandoning the devils in order to help save the man she loved. Except Bubble was lost in her own rage and could not hear us over her own choking shrieks.
Lucian began barking furiously, but I couldn’t look away from Bubble.
I saw her use the dagger to slice into the meat of her other palm before the ribbons could stop her. She choked out a harsh word, and her fingers suddenly flared with dark flames. I tried to stand but I couldn’t make my legs work properly. Hazel gasped in alarm, her gaze swiveling towards the witches at the altar. One-by-one, all down the double line, the kneeling Sisters gurgled and clutched at their throats. I stared as rich, crimson blood gushed from their wounds, briefly fanning across their necks before they slumped over with dull thuds like dominoes.
Dark magic. Bubble had just slaughtered her own coven, using their stolen powers to try and break free of her bonds. The fire over her hands grew wilder and louder, and Aphrodite’s ribbons began to smolder and burn.
Oh my god.
Her own people. She’d sacrificed them as her first option! Much like the real Dracula had done with his vampires. Bubble was no longer the same woman I had once loved. And…if she had been willing to do that to her own Sisters, what was she capable of doing to the man she thought was Dracula? The man who was actually her own son.
Rather than dying along with the other Sisters, Hazel stood unharmed, her face as pale as a ghost. It was proof that Bubble cared for—or was practical enough to leave—at least one survivor and ally. Hazel, although eyeless, was staring at her High Priestess and then Dracula with a shocked expression. For the first time, I realized that her nose wasn’t bleeding.
I watched as her features slowly darkened to a quiet, depthless rage. Was she upset that her superior had just killed all of their Sisters, or because her leader was in pain?
Nero was still shouting that it was Nosh, not Dracula, in the nullification cuffs.
Bubble couldn’t hear. But Hazel seemed to hear him just fine.
A long, elegant silver bow shimmered into existence in her hand and my heart threatened to implode within my chest.
Not Hazel…
Artemis.
How many fucking disguises were there in the church? First, Nosh, and now Artemis?
In crystal clear terms, I comprehended her sudden rage. Dracula…was not Dracula.
The prize she coveted—the prey she hunted in order to destroy me—was an imposter.
The eyeless Hazel slowly turned to stare directly at me, leading with her bow, and her body shimmered to reveal Artemis in all her glory. She reached over her shoulder and slowly grabbed a brilliant silver arrow, nocked it to the string, and then drew down.
On me.
Lucian was barking and snarling in the distance, but I had eyes for only the arrow pointed at my heart. I kicked my feet, slipping in my own blood as the edges of my vision throbbed with darkness.
Izzy suddenly leapt between us with a shout and I saw golden liquid erupt from her arm as Artemis’ arrow ripped through her flesh, glancing off bone with a solid crack.
And then the arrow slammed into my shoulder with the force of a hammer striking an anvil, sending me sliding back into a pew. Izzy lay on the ground between us, clutching at the golden liquid oozing from her wound. I could hardly breathe through the pain of a second silver arrow wound, let alone thank Izzy for trying to save my life.
Or yell at her for trying to save my life.
My blood reserves began to leak even faster—so fast that it slipped from my grasp even as I pathetically tried to harness it, like I was using a sieve. I had already been too weak to do anything with it, but now I couldn’t even hold it.
How had Lucian not picked up on Hazel really being Artemis? He’d sensed Bubble without issue. I hissed in agony as I struggled to scoot away, trying to use my pain to get a second wind. My thoughts were groggy, but the answer to my question came to mind almost immediately. Artemis was the Goddess of the Hunt. She knew a thing or two about scents. She must have masked hers, knowing Lucian’s abilities after seeing him on the mountain—how he had been the first to notice her.
And then she had muted all sounds from Nosh—another hunting trick—preventing him from speaking. Artemis stepped into view, sneering down at Izzy. Even looking at her true form now, I couldn’t sense that she was an Olympian.
She drew a second arrow and aimed it at my head. Izzy grabbed her ankle with her good hand and yanked hard, sending Artemis crashing to the ground—and her arrow slamming into the pew an inch away from my ear rather than the center of my forehead. My eyes widened and I managed to lean away with a groan. Nero was suddenly looming over me, yanking the arrow from my shoulder with a blinding flash of pain. The next thing I knew, he was dragging me down the aisle by my ankles, racing for Natalie and Victoria and away from Artemis.
“Izzy,” I whispered pathetically, feeling slightly punch-drunk. “Nosh!”
Nero tripped over some debris and struck the ground with a loud expulsion of air and a thunk as something of his struck an object that was harde
r than his something. He dropped my ankles in the process.
I heard him groan, but I was more interested and concerned with Benjamin squaring off with Lucian almost directly in front of me. Lucian lunged and missed, giving me a clear view of Benjamin’s face as he spun my way. Benjamin wore an expectant grin as he noticed me with a look of surprise.
“Fuck it,” he said, baring his teeth at my helplessness. His eyes began to glow, and the room suddenly grew warmer. I watched in horror as his features shifted to reveal an entirely different man—a face I knew very well.
Apollo, God of the Sun.
I was saved from trying to process that revelation as the front door of the church suddenly exploded inwards off the hinges and slammed into Apollo, sending him flying. I let out a shuddering breath as I glanced over at the open doorway, blinking away my slowly shrinking tunnel vision to see…
A second Izzy surveying the carnage and gripping a blazing tomahawk in her fist. “WHERE IS NOSH?” she roared. With that tomahawk in her hand, it was irrefutable proof that she was the genuine Izzy. And she apparently knew about Nosh’s ruse to double as Dracula.
Naturally, I turned to assess the first Izzy who had tried but failed to save me from Artemis’ arrow. She was currently fighting Artemis one-handed alarmingly close to Nosh and Bubble, hurling blasts of pink magic at the Goddess of the Hunt while deftly dodging return fire. Even though her arm was broken and leaking golden liquid, she looked to be holding her own. Artemis flicked her attention towards the door, and she instantly stilled to see the second Izzy with the blazing tomahawk.
Artemis’ eyes widened and she drew another arrow, glancing from one Izzy to the other with a befuddled expression. Whoever the fraudulent Izzy-of-the-golden-blood was, she’d at least tried to save my life, so I liked her a lot. And her blood was shiny, which was also nice.
Nero swore. “I’m so confused that I feel like I understand it all,” he grumbled woozily.
“Apollo got hit by a door,” I mumbled absently.
“That’s funny,” he slurred.
I nodded weakly as I turned back to the real Izzy at the entrance to the church.
Her eyes locked onto the only target that mattered to her—the High Priestess. Bubble loomed over Nosh—who still looked like Dracula, for some reason—with her flaming hands. The ribbons smoldered, almost entirely burned away, now.
“NO!” The real Izzy screamed, bolting into the room and hurdling debris as she closed the distance to the apparent threat to Nosh, not realizing that the threat was really his own mother.
I watched, feeling my vision dwindle as I used every scrap of energy to simply remain conscious.
The fake Izzy—not wanting to be out-Izzied, I guess—screamed. “You will pay for what you did to my Hephaestus, you vile, virgin!” she shrieked at Artemis. And between one moment and the next, she shimmered, revealing her true form—Aphrodite, and she was wearing…battle lingerie. I barely had time to appreciate it before she flung a blast of pink magic at the utterly confused Artemis.
The Goddess of the hunt leapt clear of the pink magical attack with a startled curse—both at the obvious danger and the shock of seeing the Goddess of Love trying to murder her with hate. With Artemis out of the way, Aphrodite’s blast was lined up to perfectly strike Bubble.
Izzy reared back and hurled her tomahawk with both hands in an overhead throwing motion.
Bubble finally burned through the last of her ribbon restraints and immediately flung up a visible dome of power around her entire body to block both attacks.
Her shield blocked the flare of pink magic with a concussive, sparkling thump that sent both Artemis and Aphrodite cartwheeling across the room and into the wall of the church.
But that tomahawk tore through the shield and struck Bubble in the chest, knocking her down to her back with a huff of air.
I stared at Bubble as she fell to her knees, my heart torn in two. “No!” I whispered weakly, my vision throbbing smaller and smaller.
Then everything flickered strangely and winked out.
51
I woke with a panicked gasp as something grabbed me, but I was too weak and delirious to jerk free. Instead, I stared down to find a hand dripping with golden blood gripping my ankle. Aphrodite was lying on her stomach, lifting her head to stare up at me, her beautiful face contorted in pain and firm resolve. Her lip sported a fresh cut, oozing with golden blood.
“I tried, brother,” she whispered. “I really wanted to make you happy,” she said sadly.
I stared at her, horrified, unable to do more than weakly prop myself up on my elbows so that I wasn’t lying prostrate. Even that threatened to do me in, making my vision flicker with sparkling lights. I felt hollow. So hungry that I wasn’t even hungry. So weak that I only managed to twitch my thumb as I stared at her with wide eyes.
Rather than wait for my response, Aphrodite grunted as she propped herself up to a seated position with only one arm. Her other hung limp at her side. She winced, panting breathlessly, and closed her eyes as she sat facing me. She had lost her battle lingerie while I’d been unconscious. Her naked torso was spattered with golden blood, as if she’d been splattered by paint. Two silver points poked through the flesh below her collar bones, like strange body piercings.
Except they oozed golden blood in matching, steady drips that splashed down her chest.
She opened her eyes and smiled weakly. “A big sister can get you the rest of the way, at least.” Then she grunted, using her good arm to swivel her body so that her lower back pressed up against the flats of my boots. I managed to sit up, confused by both her words and her actions. She took a deep breath, strained with her good arm, and methodically slid me backwards down the aisle, shoving me like a cart with her back. I winced as I got a close-up view of two silver arrows jutting from her shoulder blades, like wings with the silver fletching on the ends. Golden blood oozed from the wounds. Now I knew what the silver points on her chest had been.
Heave. Slide.
Aphrodite’s shoulders bunched with each motion, causing her muscles to flex, the arrow shafts to wobble, and more blood to spill from her wounds, painting a horrifyingly beautiful tapestry on her sinfully-smooth back.
Heave. Slide.
“I love a happily ever after, don’t you, Aphrodite?” Artemis said with mock sweetness from somewhere in front of us. My big sister ignored the taunt, keeping herself firmly between me and my enemies.
Heave. Slide.
Apollo rose into view over Aphrodite’s taut shoulders. “Oh, there you are, baby brother,” he said to me, grinning darkly. “We thought you were still asleep.”
Heave. Slide.
Aphrodite ignored them, continuing to slide me back, even with the use of only one arm.
Heave—
A silver arrow ripped through my big sister’s arm, and ricocheted past my ear, knocking out her only support and halting our movement. “Stop dragging this out, whore,” Artemis snarled.
Aphrodite shuddered, biting back a sob as she lost the use of her other arm. Then I felt her lower body shift, and we were moving again. Slower, and my big sister’s back twitched and spasmed in pain from the effort. The arrow shafts in her back wobbled and shook more violently.
Heave. Slide.
“Stop,” I whispered, tears brimming in my eyes and my lower lip trembling as I watched my big sister being torn apart, arrow by arrow. “Please, stop, Aphrodite. You have done enough.”
Aphrodite took a deep, shaking breath. “I. Have. Not.”
Heave. Slide. Shudder.
“Oh, for crying out loud,” Artemis snapped, looming into view again. She grabbed Aphrodite by the hair and flung her to the side.
I began to panic, seeing Aphrodite struggling to her feet from a pile of debris.
Apollo drew a large, reddish-brown bow and shot Aphrodite in the thigh, dropping her with a cry. “Stay down, and I’ll stop.”
This time, my heroic big sister did not get back up, and a lone tea
r spilled down my cheek.
Using her steadfast resolve as inspiration, I managed to prop myself up all the way, focusing on one arm at a time. I did my best to ignore my pain, just like my big sister had done.
For whatever reason, she’d given her all to slide me backwards down the aisle.
I shied away from Artemis and Apollo standing a few paces away from me. They watched me with feral, merciless grins.
I bunched up my knees and planted my boots on the ground. Then I strained, seeing stars burst across my vision as I panted and pushed.
Heave. Slide—
My back bumped up against something soft and I flinched in surprise. I was limned in moonlight.
“You will never have your trinity,” Apollo snapped, scowling down at me. “The Olympians shall never fall.”
I blinked at him, discreetly reaching back with one hand to feel warm flesh. Natalie and Victoria. Why had Aphrodite wanted me here? They seemed to be unconscious, and I saw fresh blood on their faces in my quick glance. Had she been trying to get me to drink their blood?
“Let us end this,” Artemis muttered. “There is no sport in such pathetic prey. I don’t even know why we were ever so concerned about this one.”
Apollo nodded. “He dies last. Let us at least get some enjoyment for our efforts. He’s already crying over Aphrodite. Let him cry some more over the dead bodies of his women.”
“Then we can deal with the other rodents,” Artemis agreed, her eyes narrowing as they locked onto Victoria. “She abused my gift. Did you know her bloodline was designed to destroy you above all others?” she asked, meeting my eyes with a bored smile. I was too tired to do more than twitch in surprise. “Yet you turned her against me. You die last, baby brother. But you won’t have a long wait,” she said, eyeing my wound.
And she was right. She didn’t even have to bother shooting me. I was spent.
They both drew arrows and took aim at the unconscious Devils over my shoulders.
Devil’s Blood: Shade of Devil Book 3 Page 32
