“I believe her. Besides, why would she have warned me unless it was genuine? If it’s a trap, it’s a bad one. We’re hours past dawn. Their ability to stop us in daylight is nil.”
“You say that, but there are guards around,” Cassius said. “Humans. Ex-military, I think. And they aren’t enthralled. Things could get violent.”
It wasn’t unusual for vampires to rely on humans for protection during the day. Plenty wanted Varro dead, and paranoia was a powerful force. With the tension between Varro and the Chains, leaving with the spectacle generated by dead guards wouldn’t be wise.
“Then let’s try diplomacy first.”
Natalya led the way down the guest hallway, Diana, Cassius, and Flea behind her, with Evie bringing up the rear. It was dark, the windows covered by metal plating that wouldn’t budge until night came. She turned a corner, finding a human guard standing watch.
“Ma’am.” His hand twitched towards the gun at his hip. “You’re supposed to be resting. Please return to your rooms.”
“I’m afraid my companions and I have to leave early,” Natalya said, pushing the charm to an insistent degree. It was difficult. Stefano had his sickening fun near enough that she’d been able to feed from it, but it had only taken the edge off. After calming Evie too, which had taken much more effort than expected, she wasn’t at her best.
“Leaving, ma’am?” The guard’s eyes went to the people behind her, finding Evie. “And the slave?”
“Leading us out.” Natalya grasped a strand of fear in the guard, making it grow. “Let us pass.”
Rather than obey, the guard drew his gun and fired. There was no hesitation in the movement. This wasn’t him responding to a threat but rather him following an order. He’d been given leave to kill them should they try to escape. The fear she’d seeded was enough confirmation of their intentions.
The bullet pierced Natalya’s chest, splintering into the wall behind her. She staggered back, groaning at the injury.
He was about to fire again when a smear of golden hair rushed past, and Flea pounced on the guard. He laughed as he slammed the guard into the floor, knocking him out and snatching up his gun.
“Lucky us,” he said, inspecting the weapon. “Silver bullets. They aren’t playing nice.”
Natalya grimaced at the hole in her chest. It hurt, and healing it would pull on reserves she didn’t have. Black ichor flowed out, staining her clothes.
“Sins. I liked this outfit.”
“Seems Varro put in contingencies to keep his guests from leaving.” Diana spat on the floor. “Fucking silver. What a prick.”
Natalya turned to Cassius, who was failing to convince Flea he should hand him the gun.
“Give me your shirt.”
He handed it to her, standing just in his undershirt. Then Natalya surprised the others by going to Evie, exchanging the bedsheet for Cassius’s flannel. She was almost as tall as Natalya, but Cassius was taller than them both. It looked like a robe on her.
“Can you get us to the garage?”
Evie was quiet. She stared at the bullet hole in Natalya’s chest. Her white shirt was covered in black, smoking ichor.
“Silver does little more than annoy me,” Natalya said. “Garage, Evie.”
Evie nodded, her eyes unfocused. “I know where it is.”
With Natalya at her side, she led them down the hallway. She moved hesitantly, shaking so much it was a wonder she could walk without assistance.
Natalya knew more than most about suffering the brutality of a cruel master. Seeing a mirror of her own past reflected in Evie tested her control. She’d like nothing more than to break off a table leg and stake every vampire in the building, but that would be shortsighted.
Killing the King of the Heartlands while a guest in his home would be an invitation for conflict the Court of Chains wouldn’t survive. And that assumed she would be successful and that Varro wouldn’t just rip them all to pieces.
They encountered no more guards, and Natalya began to suspect Evie was leading them astray. They’d walked for a while, and Natalya recognized their location as being near the parlor they were in earlier.
“Evie, where are we going?” Natalya asked quietly. The others were a few feet behind them, and she didn’t want them to hear.
“The garage.” Evie stared straight ahead, not looking at Natalya. Her lie was obvious. Natalya wanted to kick herself.
Evie barely had enough courage to warn her in the first place. Why had Natalya assumed she would have enough to help them escape? She was leading them to Varro or someone else, probably hoping the show of loyalty would wash away the betrayal preceding it. It was a coward’s act, but desperation didn’t breed heroes.
