Chapter 26 #2
Only to find him staring across the lagoon at the mangroves. His hand settled on the hilt of the blade at his hip before he went wholly still. I followed his line of sight and frowned. Unable to believe what I was seeing—why I was seeing it—I didn’t move.
Not until Brey said, softly and stepping close, “Ethel, put your boot back on.”
I did, then quickly rose to my feet as made vampires marched across the sand. Many made vampires. I lost count after twenty. A wall of uniformed brawn and orange eyes, they surrounded the other side of the lagoon.
Silver winked in the moonlight. Blades.
Swords, daggers, and even axes.
I shook my head, as if it would get rid of this mirage. “Are they real?”
“Quite,” Brey said tightly, surveying the made men.
As I did the same, I exhaled a shocked, “Maxus?”
Brey was staring straight at the made vampire who shouldn’t—couldn’t—be on this isle. Not unless…
He’d left the ball to come here, and he’d hidden throughout the day. All of these men must have waited for the sun to go down before leaving shelter.
They were too far away to read their expressions. Their intentions. I supposed trying to determine the latter wasn’t necessary when they were all holding rather than wearing weapons, as though awaiting the order to charge at us and use them.
As soon as that reality chilled, there was movement in the middle of the large group.
Vampires shifted, allowing someone through. Green eyes. Bearded. Familiar blocky shoulders. The born vampire walked ahead of his made soldiers to stand upon the edge of the lagoon.
My father.
Confusion and fear rendered me speechless. I wanted to look at Brey, to see his expression, but I couldn’t look away from my father.
His crimson dress shirt was proof he’d sailed here after leaving our ball.
Hands clasped before him, he lifted his bearded chin. “Almost done, I see.” His gravelly voice drifted over the lagoon. “Better late than never.”
“Is this show of made muscle because we refused to give you the time of night at our ball, Aphylus?” Brey huffed. “A bit extreme, if you ask me.”
As if Brey hadn’t spoken at all, my father said, “This is what’s going to happen.
” He paused. “You will feed this last ward, and once you are done, we are going to pluck your heart from your chest, King Breyron. Should you try to stop us, we will take my daughter’s heart too.
” Clearing his throat, he gestured to the well. “Proceed.”
Much like my ears, gulls screeched in the quiet.
Panic squeezed my throat, and I finally looked at Brey. But his gaze refused to leave the born vampire who’d just told us he was here to kill him.
To usurp us.
Letting me live was futile and far from a kindness. If Brey died, the fading would come for me, and whether it took moons or years, I would die anyway.
That wasn’t what terrified me.
What quaked my bones was imagining a world where Brey didn’t exist. I couldn’t. Even if we weren’t bonded, even if I’d never learned that he hadn’t actually moved on, I couldn’t imagine this dark world without him.
But when I looked at the man I’d always feared, I realized I’d been a fool to fear living without my worst enemy, my best friend, and the only man I’d ever dared to love. My father wasn’t letting either of us leave this isle.
He was trying to use Brey’s desire to protect me to easily end him.
I ceased trembling and laughed.
The mirthless sound chimed across the eerily still lagoon. “You don’t truly expect us to believe that you won’t kill me too, do you?” I feigned a sigh. “Father, you forget that I’ve witnessed some of your so-called business dealings.”
Aphylus Blueburn didn’t deny his intentions. “Intrusions I should have punished you more harshly for, but I will give you this…” His tone hardened. “You will be known as heroes who perished while protecting their realm. An undeservingly fair end to your reign of utter indulgence.”
“I don’t know,” Brey drawled. “We’ve grown rather fond of being thought of as villains. Haven’t we, Ethel?”
“Very fond.” I nodded. “Never fonder.”
“Feed the ward,” my father seethed.
Neither of us took a single step toward the water.
“Taking the Saltblood throne is one thing. Keeping it, however, is quite another.” As if this were a casual conversation, Brey seemed to muse, “Just how will you manage to do that when you lack the blood to feed the wards?”
“I have a century to figure it out, and should I fail to do so…” My father spread his hands. “Well, I’ll keep the throne by doing a much better job of protecting the isle from curious foreigners than you and your father.”
Brey’s lips quirked. “If you say so.” Appearing content to drag this out, he spoke again. “We give our blood to this final ward, then.” With a glance at me, he asked my father, “And shall we simply tell you when it’s fed so that you may take our hearts?”
That one look, however brief, came with a quick wink my father couldn’t see from across the lagoon. My spine locked. Brey’s wink and question told me what he couldn’t—that my father didn’t know what happened once a ward was fed.
No one knew much about these wells. Their strange magic. Aphylus Blueburn was no exception. Only those who had fed the wards knew that they would return us to Saltblood Isle.
“Enough posturing.” Raising a hand, my father beckoned his vampires forward. “Get in the water.” The command cut through the air, edged in finality. “Or they’ll force you to.”
Brey and I exchanged a look before walking across the sand.
Several vampires marched into the lagoon.
Pounding in my ears like a drum, my heart made it impossible to hear anything else. Ripples disturbed the half-moon’s reflection as the group of vampires waded toward the tiny sandbar where the ward waited.
My boots had just kissed the water when Brey’s hand shot out, halting me. Then it pushed me back as thrashing came from the other side of the lagoon.
Quickly followed by a bloodcurdling scream.