Chapter 42
NICO
Ihad three seconds to stop this.
The Drax pinned Emberline down before I’d fully registered what was happening, my reaction time dulled by too much wine and my own fucking stupidity.
Dante roared out a challenge, flames bursting to life. But fire didn’t work against these monsters, and if he released the ifrit out in this space, he’d kill us all—but not the Drax.
“Dante, stop…”
Baring his teeth at the Drax, he snarled, “Get it the fuck off her…” Fire and embers crawled through the air, curling over the creature’s hardened shell, catching the rug on fire.
“You’ll hurt her… get back… let me…” I spooled up my shadows, but they were erratic, my control shredding between my own panic at Emberline’s already-gray face, the light draining out of her eyes.
The fucking thing was killing her, and I was letting it happen.
Her skin had lost the pink flush of health, fingers feebly clawing at the floor as if she could drag herself out from underneath that fucking nightmare. But the creature’s sharpened leg impaled her shoulder, one hand was nearly severed, blood pumping out from her veins frighteningly fast.
I had to do something.
The problem was the room. My friends.
The Emissary form was not a scalpel. From my limited experience, the asshole was a hammer, and if I shifted inside the villa, I’d bring this entire building down on our heads.
Valeria’s soldiers raced into the room, took one look at the ongoing carnage, and stopped. They couldn’t help. They were just more potential victims.
“Stay the fuck out of my way so I can kill it,” I shouted to Dante, and for once, the words registered. He moved, enough for me to get a clean shot.
I yanked up my shadows. Panting, I focused the unstable cloud into a single, black thread, the tip sharper than a needle.
The Drax turned my way and hissed.
Ever since I was a child, they had responded to my magic. Recognized the darkness, because—I feared—we were birthed from the same place. That eyeless head swung toward me, mandibles clicking, warning me away from its prey.
“That’s it, look at me, you fucker.” I stepped closer, searching for a better angle. “She’s not yours. Not today.”
With a screech, the Drax opened its tooth-filled maw, and I shoved the point straight into that gaping hole, through whatever the fuck made the thing live, and let my shadows expand.
The creature’s shell cracked, fissures spreading all over that glossy dome, then collapsed inward, legs curling like a spider’s, mandibles clicking reflexively before falling silent. The body folded into itself and melted away, leaving nothing but a smear of black residue on the rug.
A foul reek filled the room, and someone behind me gagged.
Dante fell to his knees beside Emberline before the last of it had dissolved.
I spun, angling for a shot at the Drax pinning Gabriel down, but the slippery little fucker kept its mouth closed, body hunched low over my friend.
“Kill the little bastard,” Gabriel hissed, unable to move, one hand impaled to the floor. “Get this fucking piece of shit off me.”
“Working on it.” I moved to my left, the Drax shifting with me. “I need the thing to open its mouth.”
“You look like you have a clear shot to me,” Emilia said drily.
“I really don’t need your advice right now,” I snapped, shadows spinning around my hands, stomach lurching as everyone focused on me. Normally, I loved the attention, but right now…
“Just kill it already,” Gabriel’s normally steady voice disintegrated beneath an edge of absolute panic. “Now, godsdamn it.”
The creature lunged, skittering across the floor with unholy speed, sharp-tipped legs impaling papers and cushions and narrowly missing Gabriel’s head.
I evaded drawing it to the opposite side of the room, where Severin and two bolder Demente soldiers joined me in herding the Drax backward until we trapped it in a corner, surrounded by my shadows.
Hissing like a godsdamned cockroach.
Bigger than a fucking dog.
“What are you doing? It’s still moving.” Valeria squeaked from behind the couch. “Why isn’t it dead yet? Oh gods, make it dead. Make it dead.”
“He’s trying, Valeria,” Gabriel muttered, applying pressure to his bleeding hand. “But I agree, kill the fucking thing faster, Nico.”
“There are wards on this villa,” I murmured, watching the beast skitter back and forth like a crab, searching for an escape. “We checked every room, every floor three times. This building was fucking clean. I am sure of that.”
“Your point being?” Gabriel followed the thing’s movements, horror written all over his face.
“My point being that they didn’t come from outside. They were already inside. But where are they coming from?”
Valeria made a helpless sound as the Drax lunged straight for me, the soldiers scattering behind me with a shout.
For one frozen second, I let it come, noting every horrifying, familiar detail.
The way those sharpened feet slipped on the smooth marble, the hissing in its belly, as though it was powered by steam. Only when it was close enough to touch did I act.
I sent shadows pouring from both hands, unleashing the full weight of my magic since everyone was at a clear distance, and precision was no longer imperative. Even so, the force of the impact knocked Severin back a step, shadows cutting off the afternoon sun in a fume of black.
A second smear of reeking black residue joined the first on Valeria’s pristine marble floor.
The room was quiet except for everyone’s too-fast breathing. I kept my back to the room until my hands stopped shaking. Until fear stopped ripping through me like a saw and I could draw a single, steady breath.
How had I missed two Drax, hiding at arm’s length?
I was getting sloppy.
And the proof of my failure was all around me, stained in blood.
Emberline was propped upright, Dante’s arm around her, some color coming back into her face. Her wrist had stopped bleeding, and I recognized that shimmer of blue magic binding up the hideous gash, remnants of his healing magic.
I was supposed to protect her. I dug my knuckles into my sternum, trying to dig out the ache. To carve out the fact Emberline wouldn’t have been hurt… if I’d just done my job.
My fault. This was my fucking fault.
What had I missed?
I stepped over the black stain, shame heating my face. “If there were more,” I said, “they would have come by now. They’re attracted to the scent of their own dead.”
Valeria made a gagging sound, stood up, took three wobbling steps toward the far corner of the room, and threw up into one of her decorative plants.
I hardly blamed her.
I wanted to puke, too.
Gabriel sank into the nearest chair, his face pale, blood tracking down his forearm. “Where did they come from? And if they were inside this whole time, why wait until now to attack? Why not while we were sleeping?”
“All valid questions.” I toed the tarry smear on the rug. Then glanced at Emilia, standing so still, I’d half-forgotten she was there. She was by the fireplace with her hands neatly folded, looking between the reeking black smears… and me.
“Emilia, do you have something to add?”
“You know more about them than I, Truthteller.” Her lips flattened out. “But it’s apparent our time has run out.” She nodded to the papers scattered across the floor, ripped and splattered with blood. “They are hunting you in here, and Giovanni is tightening the noose outside. We have to move.”
“We’re out of time,” I agreed. “If Blackwood can get inside your wards, then we’re no longer safe here. And we’re dead if we are caught outside. We don’t have until morning.” I looked at Gabriel. “We have to go in tonight.”
“We’re not ready,” Gabriel held my gaze for a long moment. Then he exhaled, short and controlled, and nodded once. “But we’ll never be ready, will we?”
“Same plan,” Dante said in a low voice. “Two prongs. Advance team, then a full-force assault, everything we have. Nico on both teams because we need you against those things.”
“I won’t be able to get Blackwood out of the city in time.” Emilia and Severin traded a long look. “But I will do my best to keep him occupied.”
I looked at Emberline, frighteningly pale but looking at me with a determined expression.
“Oh, don’t you even think about it, Nico Draconi. You’re not leaving me behind,” she grit out, holding her arm. “Once I’m patched up and I’ve fed, I’ll be good to go.”
She looked like walking death, but I nodded.
“I wouldn’t dare. You, me, and Dante are on the advance team, along with six of Severin’s best soldiers. We go for the Summoners first, take them out before they even know we’re there. Quiet. Maximum casualties. In and out.”
“The main forces need to be in position by three in the morning.” Gabriel was at the window, looking out at the dark water.
“Can you manage that on such short notice? Every soldier we have, flooding the city, concentrating on the Sala del Giuramento and the DiRavello palazzo. Emilia’s priests behind the front line.
Severin and I will be in the front.” He paused, leveling Emilia with a knowing stare.
“When the sun comes up, I want Giovanni in shackles, and Blackwood… neutralized.”
“Giovanni will have the Ashbound,” Gabriel reminded us, dragging his hand down his face. “One more fucking thing to factor into an already precarious operation.”
“I’ll take care of the Ashbound; Nico takes out the Drax.” Dante’s voice settled into the flat, echoing tone that meant the demon was on board with our plan. “If I burn enough of them, eventually, they’ll be gone, right?”
Emberline made a quiet sound, and I looked at the destruction of the formerly perfect room—the scattered maps and the twin smears of black on an extremely expensive rug, Valeria wiping her mouth, Gabriel cradling his bloodied hand, wrapped in part of his shirt.
“We still have a few hours. You two go see the healers. I’ll make another pass around the villa.” I motioned for the Demente soldiers to follow me, then glanced at the rug. “And someone should probably deal with those before they ruin the wool.”
“Gods,” Valeria said faintly. “That is a three-hundred-year-old Aubusson.”
“Was,” I corrected.
“With luck, you can hand-deliver the bill to Giovanni tomorrow morning. In person.”