Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
PARIS
“Trust me, we’re not getting out of here,” I reiterated.
Well, he wouldn’t.
The merman clearly thought I’d lost my mind. “If there’s a way in, there’s a way out, my friend. Nothing keeps me down for long. Anyway, I’m amazing at solving puzzles.”
You had to admire the confidence. “This isn’t a puzzle, it’s a death trap.”
Damn. Was I betraying Silvanus by telling him this? What, by telling a fellow executioner the truth?
Fuck my life.
He cocked an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m Jon, by way.” He offered me his hand.
This wasn’t the time for a get-to-know-you session, but I shook it anyway. “Nice to meet you.”
Hope your death isn’t too painful, I wanted to say.
I nibbled on my bottom lip, tapping my right foot. I was scared, my brain unable to conjure a solution that didn’t end in a bloodbath.
“Is it true what I heard the king say?” Jon asked.
“What did he say?”
“That you and him, you know, did things. Sexual things.”
My belly churned, shame burning across my face. “Fuck.”
He blanched. “So it is true? You really did go to bed with him?”
I couldn’t answer, I was beyond embarrassed.
“Why would you do that?” he added. “Unless he made you do it, seeing as you’re a thrall.” His face crinkled with disgust. “Of course. He forced you, the piece of shit.”
We weren’t talking about this.
“I’m not sure what happens next,” I said. “I—”
My vision blurred, my body and mind propelled back into the alleyway in Oreflame City. Reliving the magical dust, the mermaid, the frostbrood tunnels, none of it making sense. It was nothing but a replay, ending once again with frostbrood claws in my belly, and the screaming darkness.
I jolted out of it, still on my feet, gasping for breath.
“Paris?” Jon questioned, standing too close.
I backed away from him, my spine bumping the wall. I clutched at my chest, my heart going a million miles a second.
Whoa. My head spun, my stomach was a queasy acidic roll, and sweat poured down my face.
“You went from fine to sickly like that.” Jon snapped his fingers to illustrate his point. “What’s the matter? You having a freak out?”
“I… I… Shit.” I slid down the wall, arse bumping the floor. Resting my arms on my knees, I bent forward, on the verge of puking.
Damn vision.
“What are you?” I asked aloud.
“Executioner,” Jon responded.
I sighed, in need of a mistrock cig and cold beer. “I wasn’t talking to you.”
I heard a woman begging for help, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps pounding all around me. A crippling sense of defeat bound my senses, my eyes hot, my brain throbbing with too much horror.
I had to get out of this damn palace. Get on the road, be proactive, get this shit done. No more thinking, no more allowing my emotions to run wild. I needed a distraction, and what would be better than fighting to save the world?
But how could I leave with the likes of Jon slowly crawling toward a painful death?
“I can’t,” I rasped. “I just can’t.”
“You can’t what, mate?” Jon wondered, a lot of sympathy in his tone.
I loved the distinctive Mer Domain accent with its elongated vowels. But right now, the sound only contributed to my guilt.
Jon offered me kindness, and I couldn’t do a thing to save him.
Unless I appealed to the king’s mercy.
“Here.” He offered me his hand, a warm smile on his face.
Man, he was cute. With those copper scales, clean lines, and flawless bronze skin, he looked like the perfect catch. The kind of guy I should be making googly eyes at instead of a certain fanged hottie.
Yeah, in a dream world. That Paris didn’t exist. That Paris was too busy dripping with shame, constantly tempted by the call of forbidden desire.
Give me all the bites of the naughtiest fruit…
Ugh.
I took Jon’s hand.
“Thanks,” I said, brushing myself down, grateful for the help to get vertical again.
“No worries. So, how we getting out of here? Because I’m not giving up.”
I glanced left and right, hearing a guy call out somewhere close by, a lot more panicked than the other voices.
“I’m here!” Jon bellowed.
The other guy didn’t respond.
The merman tried again, even banged on a wall with his fists. “Martin! Follow my voice! I’m here!” He blew out a frustrated breath. “He sounds so close. Can’t he hear me?”
Fuck this. “I don’t know,” I answered, “but you have to listen to me. There’s no escaping this place, no matter how positive you are.
” I smeared on more of the ugly truth. “You’re trapped, they’re trapped, and now I’m trapped.
This is the palace’s defense system. I think this is where Glenda Green died. ”
His eyes widened. “For real?”
I didn’t know for sure, and maybe Silvanus would never tell me. But I had a hunch the legendary, and missing, executioner died in these corridors.
“Think so, yeah,” I said.
He frowned at me. “I don’t believe you.”
“That’s up to you.” I shrugged, which felt like a bit of a dick move.
“Why are you here with me if it’s so dangerous?” he questioned. “To die with me? Take me out quickly.” His eyes widened. “Hold on. That’s it. The king’s little puppet is here to kill me.” He chortled, shaking his head. “I’m an idiot.” He pointed his stakeblade at me. “We’ll see how far you get.”
“What—”
He lunged at me, taking a swipe. The tip of his weapon sliced through the air, inches away from my face.
Whoa! That could have been one nasty cut.
“Listen to me!” I yelled without anything on hand to cool the situation with.
Other than an uppercut, of course.
He came at me again, stabbing at my belly. I hit the floor just in time, rolling out of the way, and sprang back to my feet.
He growled, charging full throttle before I could even take a breath. I twirled out of his trajectory, the crystal dagger appearing.
“What in Aidan’s name is that?” he spat.
Ah, now then. What if I started singing? He’d see the truth, right?
His eyes fixated on my weapon. “Where did you get that?” he asked, his tone cooling with curiosity.
I held it up, the crystal heart above the handle glinting in the scarlet light. “Do you know what this is?”
He swallowed, tugging on his jacket collar. “It’s not possible.”
“What isn’t?”
He wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve. “By Aidan, how did you get it?”
Okay, now he was freaking me out. “You need to start making sense.”
He blinked lifting his eyes to me. “A Knife of Fractured Rapture.”
“A what now?”
He licked his lips, blanching a tad. “I thought they were a myth.”
Not any myth I knew about. “Speak.”
He cleared his throat, shooting me a pointed look. “What are you doing with it if you don’t know what it is?”
“I—”
A door opened, Silvanus stepping through, swaddled in that dark aura he sometimes had when pissed off.
Uh-oh.
“The king!” Jon cried.
Immediately, the merman sprang back into action, diving into the violent dance, taking shots with his fists and stakeblade, dodging the vampire’s moves. It was an impressive sight, the executioner holding his own, matching Silvanus’s speed.
I stood uselessly on the sidelines, unsure of what to do.
“Feel free to jump in!” Jon barked at me.
This guy really did have a positive attitude, even after the things he’d said to me.
The vision hit me again, dragging me away for a few moments, fragments of it rolling through my mind until I was back in the corridor. Breathless, nauseous, watching the vampire king drain the merman’s blood from his neck.
Oh, fuck.