Her lips part. “I can do it.”
“You will do nothing,” Vincent barks at her, but he doesn’t understand her meaning. “I get to choose how the human will die. She’s weak. She’s cornered. She will beg for mercy.”
“Where is he?” Bea asks.
Vincent frowns. “What are you talking about?”
“Near the top of the palace. He’s hiding where the others can’t reach him.”
No, she needs to protect you. She—
I toss the vial to her. “Save him.”
Vincent seems to realize what’s happening just an instant too late. Bea flies forward to swipe the vial midair just before Vincent leaps, shifting to his demon form. She’s faster, though, and out the door before he can reach her.
His roar shakes the room.
“Let her go, Vincent,” the cyclops says. “We have both girls. What difference does it matter if the prince lives?”
Vincent’s demon seethes, back hunched over, breaths labored.
Finish it.
But first, I need to stall and pray Lola is okay.
“You know, I’ve been wondering something,” I say, head tilted innocently, forcing the fear down. “Whatever happened to your chosen? All High Orizians have them, right?”
His harsh eyes dart to me. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he growls.
“Candice,” Liz warns, her eyes wide.
“She didn’t want you, did she?” I say, standing my ground as the half-man, half-demon stalks closer. “That’s why you’re so determined to make the crown prince into a reject like you. You want him to suffer the way you have—”
Something slams into my cheek with a whack, sending me flying to the floor.
“No! Candice!” Liz yells, but she doesn’t move. She’s still stuck, standing by the table.
Vincent is in full demon mode now. His hands are tipped with two-inch-long talons, black and glistening. “You failed,” he seethes. “And now, I will show you how minuscule you really are. Run, little human. Run if you can. Because I will enjoy bleeding you dry.”
I groan, my head throbbing. I force my body up, standing on wobbly feet to face my fate.
He looks down at his open palm, his brow pinching.
“No magic, Vincent?” I spit blood at his talon tipped feet. “You’re not the only one with new tricks up their sleeve.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he mutters. “You can turn Beatrice against us, you can try to save your prince, but it’s still three against one, and—”
I huff out a breath. My head is still throbbing, but I’m close. So close.
“Magic or not, I still controlher.” He nods to Liz, who has tears streaming down her cheeks now. “Your attempts are vain. You lose.”
I swallow, trying desperately to ignore the panic pressing in on the edges of my vision.
“Elizabeth,” he commands, “take her.”
61
I Will Not Give Up On You
