“Disrespect?” Evie’s voice was sharper now. There was a confidence in it that wasn’t there before, and she smiled in a way that looked a little mad. “I’ll show you disrespect.”
Evie bit down, and there was a cracking sound of something breaking between her teeth. Her fear lessened, replaced by pure anger, as Evie spat Varro in the face. The spit shined, glittering faintly. There were bits of glass in it, as well as spots of blood. She’d crushed an ampoule of liquid silver in her mouth.
King Varro Visconti, one of the most powerful men in the nation, clutched his face and wailed like a child.
Evie grabbed the dagger Dominic had left on the table. For a moment, Natalya thought she meant to stab Dominic or Varro with it. Instead, she ran across the room straight for Natalya. She fell to her knees by her circle, scraping her skin against the concrete floor.
“What are you doing here?” Natalya asked, voice shocked.
“Saving you.” Evie raised the dagger and slammed it into the markings of Natalya’s circle. The hardened blade struck the concrete, chipping off a piece of the symbols that bound her and breaking the indents that kept her in service. Freeing her.
A rush of pure force surged through her body. It was a wave of destructive power she wasn’t supposed to possess freely. That she wasn’t supposed to have control over and which she had spent a century learning how to master. She looked up, finding Dominic’s frightened face. With her connection to him broken, she let her eyes pierce into his.
He crumbled. She’d seized his senses and robbed feeling from his body. It wouldn’t kill him, her gaze alone couldn’t do that, but he was unconscious. He couldn’t command the other fiends.And he hadn’t been harmed, which meant they were under no obligation to defend him.
If they liked him, maybe they would have. No one liked Dominic Fane. Least of all his slaves.
Evie dropped the knife and fell against Natalya, sobbing with relief. Natalya held her tightly, shock at everything that had just transpired stunning her in place for a moment.
“I got here as soon as I could.” Evie clutched Natalya as though she’d disappear again if Evie loosened her grip. “We hurried. We—”
“We?” Natalya leaned back, though she didn’t let go of Evie. “Who’s we?”
“Drago. We pretended I’d gotten taken, and Drago acted like one of the men who captured me. He’s here too.”
Natalya imagined the sheer amount of destruction a greater Wrath fiend could cause with the element of surprise. Drago could probably turn the estate to rubble in less than an hour if he didn’t meet too much resistance.
Her eyes drifted to the wounds on Evie’s neck. “Stefano?”
“He’s dead.” Evie’s eyes were filled with tears. “I killed him. I staked him. I staked him over and over.”
She was so afraid she was shaking. She had been fed on, and she was bleeding. She’d faced the monsters of her worst nightmares, alone, for Natalya. Just for thechanceto save her.
Evie Atkins was the bravest being Natalya had ever met.
Natalya cupped her face and kissed her with a passion brought on by relief and wonder. By shock and astonishment. It made Evie sigh deeply. Her shoulders dropped, and her arms stopped trembling.
The kiss filled Natalya with power. It filled her with energy. With strength. As she saw Varro stagger around the room, half blind and yelling in pain, she knew what she planned on using it for.
Natalya pulled away from Evie and put the dagger into her hand. “Free the others.”
Evie nodded, and Natalya tore through the room to clash into Varro so hard it careened them into a nearby bookshelf. The furniture broke into pieces, scattering books and paper everywhere. Natalya tried to stake him with a piece of the splintered wood, but Varro grabbed her arm, stopping her.
“You can’t beat me, whore,” Varro snarled. The charming serpent he usually presented himself as was gone. In its stead was a ravenous predator. “I am a King. You are only a slave. You are no match for me.”
He was right. Natalya was strong enough to challenge someone like Aleksander, but only when she was near the Second Circle. Here, fighting a centuries-old Regent who had the power of an entire Night territory within him, she didn’t stand a chance. Not even with him still in pain from liquid silver burning into his face.
Alone, she couldn’t beat him. Thanks to Evie and to Dominic’s coveting, she wasn’t alone. As she tore at Varro, pushing her power into him and overloading his senses to the point where he was screaming, another joined the fray. A man who normally had bright azure eyes, now made scarlet from rage. Pride.
A moment later, another body rushed into the fight. A woman with red eyes that would otherwise be white as snow. Greed.
They came one by one. Gluttony, Wrath, and Sloth, clashing into Varro and tearing at him. Each one Evie freed joined the fight against this vampire who’d dared treat them as slaves.
But Varro was strong. He roared and fought, tearing an arm off Pride and snapping Gluttony’s leg. Both injuries would heal, but they wouldn’t heal then. Varro was hurt and could be beaten, but the lesser fiends could only delay him. They couldn’t significantly injure him.
As Evie moved to Vex’s circle, she stopped. She looked at the fiend who had almost killed her just a day ago, clearly wondering if this monster was one she should release.
“Free her!” Natalya yelled. The cry got the attention of Evie and Varro both. Evie crouched next to Vex, raising the dagger, just as Varro yelled out with indignation and fury when he realized what was about to happen.
