~*~
Fulk vaulted over the railing, landed lightly on the balls of his feet, and entered the library just in time to see Vlad cut his little brother almost in half. He watched, sick to his stomach, as Val crumpled, and Vlad braced a fit on his hip, leaned back, and pulled his sword free with an awful sucking sound and a fresh arterial spray of blood.
Vlad stepped back, and watched Val twitch and spasm, and bleed all over the carpet without any expression.
Fulk couldn’t say that he liked Val, not the way that Anna did. But. This…
“Did you kill him?” Fulk asked, and Vlad whirled to face him, bloody sword lifting.
His dark eyes moved over Fulk, noted his own sword. “No. But he will sleep for a while. He can’t cause any more trouble.” His head tilted. “Maybe I should have killed him, yes?”
Fulk swallowed hard. He was aware, suddenly, that he’d done nothing of any use today. He hadn’t helped anyone escape, hadn’t taken Annabel and fled. He was still here, same as ever. His sword might as well have been a matchstick for all the good it had done.
“Do you hate him?” he asked, nodding toward Val, who it was hard to look at.
“No,” Vlad said, like it was obvious. “He has always been full of hate, and that is not useful. It is a waste.”
Fulk didn’t respond.
“What has happened to the wolf? Sasha?”
“I think he’s gone.”
“Ah.” Vlad looked at him and Fulk wanted to squirm. “Then it’s a good thing there are other wolves here, yes?”
~*~
“We need leverage,” Trina had said, and Jamie had understood. The best way to push back against a secret, sinister organization was to expose it.
He found the computer terminal on the main floor, in a room that looked like a parlor. It could have been nothing; it looked like an afterthought. But when he touched the mouse, the screen lit up, andoh. Yes, this wassomething.
He used the keycard he’d swiped to log in, plugged in the flash drive he’d brought, and started moving files.
