Chapter Twenty-Six #3
Penny had told me she would send another hunter.
“You took your time,” I mutter, raising my stake to drive it through Stella’s limp body.
“Don’t,” the other hunter says. “We’re running low on prisoners. Once she heals, we can use her to train against compulsion.”
Even with a mask muffling her voice, I recognise her. “I thought you were sending someone,” I say. My hand, still holding the stake, trembles.
It’s Penny.
Here, in Inverness.
A part of me, the part that’s known her for four years, couldn’t be happier to finally see her again.
We’ve never been apart this long, and I didn’t realise how much I missed her until now.
But another part of me is terrified. The deadliest vampire hunter Callisto has ever produced is now only twenty minutes away from the new life I’ve built in Tynahine.
If she sees the Familiar’s mark, which I’m hoping is still concealed by makeup and blood, she won’t think twice before killing Aliz.
My throat feels like sandpaper, and Penny reaches down to touch Stella’s body.
It will take weeks for her brain to unscramble, for her broken skull to seal shut again.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, still in disbelief.
I can’t quite believe it’s Penny. She takes off her mask, and my eyes sting as I take her in.
Her sharp features are clean of makeup. She’s as inexpressive as always, incapable of showing whether she missed me or not.
“Is Trellis dead?” she asks, ignoring my question. She turns Stella onto her side and writes something on the near-dead vampire’s cheek.
“I’m on it,” I say, catching my breath. “But we need to get the humans out first.”
“You’re here to kill Trellis, not rescue his victims.”
“We can’t leave them here,” I say. “We’re outnumbered.”
Penny studies me for a long second. My neck burns, each individual line of the Familiar’s mark itching as I wait for her to notice it.
But after a sigh, she tears her green eyes from mine and looks at the humans behind us.
“Eugene Trellis should be in the rooftop bar.” Slowly, I stand back up.
Penny fights with the window until it squeaks, giving way. “I’ll deal with him.”
“Wait,” I argue before she goes. “Trellis is my target.” Penny didn’t see his smug face when he sentenced his victims to death.
“Then why are you wasting time at the other end of the castle?” she snaps. Is saving lives wasting time to her? I ball my fists, but before I can argue, she nods. “Fine. But don’t waste another second.”
She’s angry. But I’ll deal with her anger later. And I know that she’ll be able to get the humans to safety much quicker than I could. They seem to be in shock, unable to process what happened. I put my hand out in front of the girl holding Gustavsson’s silver cross.
“If Callisto tries to recruit you, say no,” I whisper, not letting Penny hear me.
As I run through the castle, something feels off. I don’t come across a swarm of vampires searching for their prey. Just silence. Now that the lights are on, I can find my bearings. There’s even a sign pointing towards the rooftop garden.
I keep waiting for an ambush. But then it hits me.
The guests know a hunter is in the building.
They’ll be expecting the full force of Callisto.
Everyone must have fled. I’ll be lucky if Eugene Trellis is still around.
Penny will kill me if he got away. I run, making sure my gun has bullets, and finally find a staircase leading to the roof.
Automatic doors slide open, and there he is: the same man who announced the rules of the game with such jubilation, now on his phone arguing with someone over the band.
“This is the first blood party in Inverness in over two centuries, and the harpsichord was out of tune!” he hisses, before sensing my presence.
“Oh, dinner’s here,” he says and hangs up.
“How’d you get so much blood on you, darling? ” he asks.
I expected it to be harder. But Trellis hasn’t planted any traps, as some of my past victims did.
And unlike his guards, he doesn’t think of escaping.
Nor does he put up much of a fight. I screw on the silencer and shoot him in the shoulder first. He screeches, the silver far more painful than the bullet wound itself.
The streets of Inverness are still lively, buildings well illuminated. When I look up at the moon, it resembles a hook, digging right into my soul, telling me that my time is running out.
“I’d give you a ten-minute head start, just like you gave us,” I say, looming over him, blood dripping from my red dress. “But I have a feeling you wouldn’t get far.”
“Mortal scum,” he hisses, eyes flashing red. “Don’t you know who I am?”
“A terrible party planner,” I say, pressing my lips into a smile.
I pull out a stake, and just as I’m about to drive it through his chest, something smashes against my waist, a kick like a wrecking ball.
My weapon falls from my hands, and I roll across the ground, as though gravity suddenly changed direction.
I groan, and when I look up, I see her standing eerily still next to Trellis and looking at me with indifference. Her bun has come undone, and her chestnut waves fall past her waist.
Elia’s eyes glow red in the darkness, but she doesn’t try to compel me.
Because she knows what I am.