Chapter 22 #2
“Nico.” Her pleading turned ragged, as if she knew it was no use. “Please. Please, listen to me. You don’t want to do this. You don’t.”
His response was a brutal strike that jarred her arms so hard, the broken sword nearly flew from her hands.
I thrashed, chains biting deeper into my wrists. “Stop this. I’ll give you whatever you want. Do whatever you want with me, just let her go. Let them both go.”
Gods. If Nico killed her, when he woke up, when he found out what he’d done…
“Like I said, the purest kind of despair.” The Overseer gloated in my ear. “Should I call this off, Prisoner 1445, or should I let him slice her apart and have the healers piece her back together? Perhaps not good as new but… good enough for my needs.”
“I’ll fucking…”
One of the guards holding me slammed a fist into my broken ribs, low and hard.
I screamed, roaring my rage to the heavens, blood and spit flying out of my mouth. Across the pit, Gabriel’s eyes kept lifting to that narrow slit of sky, tracking something beyond the dome, as if he could somehow fly away to freedom. I wanted to scream at him, too.
Do something.
Do anything.
But what could any of us do against this place and a sadistic, ancient vampire who ruled this place like a god?
Nico’s next strike came down, nothing but mindless fury.
Emberline dropped to one knee to absorb the blow, and that broken blade cracked the rest of the way, metal screeching in protest as it shattered into pieces, splinters buried in the sand around her.
She looked up at him, nothing but forgiveness in her resigned expression, her hair loose around her face, the broken hilt clutched in her right hand. Blood ran from her temple, streaking down her cheek like a tear.
Still beautiful. Still brave.
The sight stirred something primal inside me. Something feral. I would burn the world to ashes until there was nothing left. Fucking nothing.
Fire stirred in my belly as the demon lifted his head, sensing an opening.
Nico towered over my wife, raised his sword high, poised for the killing blow as time slowed down to a crawl.
Heat crawled through my body in a roaring wave, boiling my blood.
“Stop,” the scream tore up my throat. “Nico… listen to me.”
Nico’s sword started to fall, and Emberline’s eyes flicked toward the platform, our eyes meeting.
My wife, my magnificent, amazing wife, didn’t look afraid.
She looked at peace, as though she’d come here expecting to die, and the only thing she regretted was that she hadn’t been able to save the rest of us first.
My heart broke clean in half.
Then the world split.
The stone beneath my feet bucked as an explosion hit the Fossa like a fist. Torches shuddered. The crowd screamed, the sound changing from bloodthirsty to terrified in an instant. Then the domed roof above us groaned, cracks spiderwebbing across the stone.
A section of the dome collapsed, a violent tearing of rock and crushing weight that sent the world swaying, knocking the guards off their feet.
I pounced on the nearest one, bent his head back as far as I could, and tore out his throat.
I drank messily and fast, my only goal to fill my stomach with as much blood as I could in ten seconds.
The guard’s blood was powerful, filled with a strange magic that might just kill me in the end, but in the meantime…
I lifted my head and roared as power poured through me.
A second guard fell beneath my fangs, and I drank him dry, too. Stone and debris were still raining down when I rose to my feet, broken leg mending as unnatural strength flooded into my system, ripping the chains out of the dead guard’s hands.
The platform had tipped. I’d ended up on one side, the Overseer on the other, already on his feet, both of us squinting through the choking dust cloud, coughing.
Across the ring, Nico was disoriented—for the moment—Emberline crawling away from him on her hands and knees, leaving a trail in the sand as chunks of debris slammed into the pit all around them.
Gods, if Nico didn’t kill her, the falling rock would.
“This way, Nico,” she shouted, coughing. “Nico, come on. Follow me.”
He turned his head to follow her voice, but the draught still had ahold of him. His gaze didn’t focus on her, didn’t land like it normally would have.
Ten feet away, the Overseer’s voice cut through the chaos like a bullwhip.
“Secure the prison, we’re under attack,” he bellowed. “Round up the prisoners, get them back into their cells.”
Guards snapped into motion, herding dust-covered convicts deeper into the prison, shouting orders as inmates surged like a tide, panic and the opportunity for escape giving them courage. A few broke ranks, racing for freedom, only to be headed off.
The Overseer found me in the chaos, pointing two of his biggest guards in my direction.
Gabriel launched himself over the edge of the ring, hand braced on the balustrade, before he glanced up one final time at the wide triangle of blue sky that looked like a wound.
And in that widening gap, I saw movement. Shadows sweeping across the opening, the whir of blades in the air.
On the other side of the ring, Emberline was still moving—dragging herself toward where Gabriel landed in the pit, miraculously unhurt.
With my heart slamming against my ribs, I grasped the chains and heaved. Pulled until the links gave way, and then I limped through the heavy sand toward my wife.
But she was trapped, and Nico lifted his sword again, a merciless executioner with death in his eyes. Too far away for me to ever reach in time.
And still, Emberline kept arguing, kept urging him to remember, breathless and bleeding and refusing to give up on him, then finally raised her hands, bringing that pitiful remnant of a sword up to shield her face as somewhere outside, another explosion rocked the desert.
The dome above us groaned like a dying god.
The Fossa was coming apart.
And if we stayed here, it would bury us all.