Chapter 29
BLAKE
The wooden doors of the refectory were flung open, and we were driven in at swordpoint.
I looked around the hall. Hours ago the place had glittered with candles, been filled with the strains of music, and held the most elite highbloods in Sangratha.
Now only traces of opulence were left. Tables had been shoved to the sides, tablecloths askew, crystal glassware smashed on the floor.
The raised stage the musicians had played on had been stripped of instruments.
A large chair now sat in its center, like a makeshift throne on a dais.
And standing before the throne was my uncle.
Viktor had healed a little more since I’d last seen him, but he still wasn’t looking up to snuff.
His snowywhite hair was still ragged and patched in places.
The left side of his face sagged in waxy folds.
His eyes were the same as always, though.
Dark rubies glittering in deep hollows. I glimpsed fear in those eyes—but something else, too.
Something that made me frightened. Excitement.
“Bring them forward,” he rasped.
Quinn gave me a shove. Beside me, Theo stumbled, his wrists tied behind him, flanked by two Bloodguards. Pendragon had been permitted to walk under her own power—that is, until she reached the dais and Silvio Santos lodged a palm between her shoulder blades and shoved her down onto her knees.
“Touch her again and lose that hand,” I snarled at him. Not that I’d be stopping with a hand.
“Easy, Nephew,” Viktor drawled. “Our new House Mortis leader is simply enthusiastic.”
Silvio wiggled his eyebrows at me and grinned. “Sure am, Lord Drakharrow.” Then he backhanded Pendragon full in the face, his eyes never leaving mine.
Pendragon winced but didn’t cry out. I watched blood drop from her split lip, her cheek bright red from the blow. I saw fire. The blood I would spill in this hall tonight, I decided, would be truly torrential. A downpour. All of it spilled in her name.
“Now, now, Santos. That’s enough of that.” Viktor beckoned to another Bloodguard standing at the foot of the dais. This one wore House Avari colors beneath his blood-and-sword badge. “Cade, be so good as to hold the girl, won’t you?”
I looked at the Bloodguard coming towards Pendragon. He grabbed her by the shoulder, hauling her to her feet, and pulled her arms roughly behind her back. Something wasn’t right. I closed my eyes, gritting my teeth as the sound of wet, bubbling rot gurgled up and filled my ears.
“No,” I snapped. “Not him. Get his filthy hands off her.”
Heads turned towards me. Cade narrowed his eyes.
Viktor sat down in the chair on the dais, spreading his legs, a smile curving on his face. “So you can hear it as well, can you, Nephew? Fascinating. The beast in you is discerning.”
Pendragon turned towards me, licking the blood off her lips. “Hear what? What beast? Blake, what is he talking about?” But her eyes were afraid. Did part of her already know?
I didn’t answer, could only stare at the bite mark on Cade’s hand where he clenched her wrists. “He’s been bitten. He’s infected.”
Cade paled, but his grip tightened on Pendragon’s wrists as she struggled. “What’s he talking about, Lord Drakharrow? It’s just a bite.”
Viktor chuckled. “Hold her tight, Cade. Nothing you need to be concerned about.”
But around me, a buzz was spreading through the Bloodguard crowd.
The others knew—they knew what a bite meant.
Cade must have been bitten early on, then kept in the hall for this one purpose.
I stared at Pendragon in horror, fully aware that the high-blood holding her could turn in a moment, attacking her as she was held in his arms. Would she merely be wounded, or would she be infected like a highblood?
I thought of the blood I had poured into her earlier that evening. Had it made her more susceptible?
“Let her go,” I snarled at Viktor. “This is between us. Get her out of here.”
The old monster smiled. “Come, now, Blake. You know me better than that. I’m curious about something, though. Have you told your little blightborn whore yet? Have you told her how you carry more than guilt in those veins?”
Pendragon thrashed in Cade’s grip. “Blake, what’s he talking about?”
“Nothing,” I said, my lie turning to ash in my mouth. “Shut the fuck up, Uncle.”
Viktor laughed. “There’s a dragon lurking behind those red pu-pils of his. One that can taste this corruption before it even manifests.”
“There is no dragon,” I snarled. “I ended him. He’s gone.”
“Did you, now?” Viktor’s red eyes glittered back at me. “How interesting. Especially as my Bloodguards tell me that a pile of red ash is all that remains of Vorago in the Dragon Court. Yet here you stand before me, your eyes burning like twin coals.”
My throat tightened.
“Blake,” Pendragon breathed. She twisted in Cade’s hold, searching my face for the truth. “What did you do?”