Lure of Lightning, page 26
“What?” he says, blinking, but I’m already snatching it from its sheath. Before he can stop me, I slice the blade through my hand, wincing as I do and splitting the skin. Bright red blood pools to the surface of my skin.
“Briony, what are you doing?” Beaufort cries.
“You said it yourself. He’s starving to death. He needs blood. He needs to feed.”
I hover my hand above Fox’s pale lips, squeezing my fingers into a fist and wincing at the pain from the cut. Blood runs from the wound and drips like tears onto Fox’s waiting mouth.
At first nothing happens.
Then his eyes move beneath their lids; his tongue flickers out and laps at the warm red liquid. He groans – a deep, tortured noise – and then his eyes open. I expect their color to be as muted as the rest of him, but they’re not. They glow iridescently – a bright flaming red I’ve never seen before – and gaze straight into my own. He holds my stare, his eyes glowing brighter, as more of my blood falls to his mouth; he drinks hungrily. A flush of color blooms across his pale skin.
He moans and swallows quickly as the drops fall. More color spreads across his face and his eyes shine brighter.
My pounding heart begins to settle. He’s going to be okay. He’s going to live.
Then suddenly his arms rise and clamp against my fist, yanking my hand away. “Briony,” he says in that booming voice of his. “Briony, you can’t be here. You have to go.”
“We’ve come to rescue you, Fox,” I say. “We’ve come all this way. Look – here’s Blaze. We’re going to get you to safety.”
“No,” he says. “It’s too dangerous. You should never have come.” His eyes jolt around his sockets and then land on Beaufort. “Why did you bring her?”
“To save you,” I repeat.
“You should have left me. You should never have come here.”
I shake my head desperately. “Don’t be silly, Fox. What choice did I have? I had to come.”
“No,” he repeats, “and now you have to go.”
“Go? We’ve been searching for you out here in the demon wastelands.”
“Briony, you’ve already risked too much coming here. You need to go now before …” He trails off, then his brow forms into a frown. “Briony, get out of here.”
“Not without you!”
“If I go with you, she’ll come after us, she’ll send the creatures after us. I won’t risk that Briony. I won’t risk you being hurt.”
“So you want me to just leave you in her hands,” I shake my head with frustration, “to torture you, to starve you, to kill you, Fox!”
“Yes,” he says firmly.
I slam my hands on his bony shoulders, leaning over him and staring into those glowing eyes. “We are not leaving without you, Fox.”
He stares into my eyes and I don’t flinch away from his penetrating gaze.
He knows I won’t leave without him – he must read it in my eyes.
His resolve falters.
“Okay then,” he says. “But we have to go. We have to go now before she returns.”
I nod and attempt to help him sit up. It’s useless – he’s too weak. The color may have returned to his face and his eyes may be brighter, but his body won’t obey. Beaufort kneels beside us, healing my hand quickly before sliding an arm under Fox’s shoulders and trying to lift him with me.
We drag him toward the dragon and my heart breaks a little more. Fox has always been so strong, so resilient. Nothing has ever hurt Fox Tudor like this. I can barely look at him. I dare not imagine what he’s been through, what she’s done to him.
Somehow we make it to Blaze, but no further – because the air whips around us, the swirling mist turns ominously black, and I know what’s going to happen next.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Briony
“Veronica,” Fox whispers, and I already knew it would be her. The air grows sour, as if I can taste the evil. Then she’s there in front of us, that self-satisfied, smug smile on her lips. The mist has morphed to black – not with night or smoke or ordinary magic; it’s become dense and thick with circling demons.
“I had a feeling you’d come eventually,” she says. She’s not as glamorous as usual: dust and grime streak her hair, there’s a smudge across her cheek, her lipstick is smeared, and her eyeliner isn’t its usual precise line. Her dress and cloak are crinkled; there’s a ladder in her stockings and several of her long nails are broken.
Not that I can talk – I probably look no better.
“I only wonder what took you so long. Poor Fox has been suffering without you,” she says, feigning a sympathetic pout. “The question is, of course: have you come to rescue him, or have you come to arrest me?”
“Both,” I tell her.
“Such a foolish girl.” She sighs, her attention sliding toward Beaufort at my side. “I’m not surprised, but I thought you, Beaufort Lincoln – I thought you had more sense. And yet here you are, deep in the demon realm. Perhaps it’s impressive you reached this far.” Her eyes flick to the dragon. “And you brought the beast too.”
The dragon growls; sparks flare at his nostrils.
“Hand yourself in, Bardin,” I say.
“I don’t think so, my child,” she replies, her gaze flicking back to Fox.
“I’ve already killed one vampire on this journey. Give me an excuse and I’ll happily kill another.”
Her eyes flash. “Another vampire? Who?”
“The head of the academy.”
She considers me, her head tilting to one side. “Did what I never could,” she whispers, words I don’t understand. “Interesting. Not so innocent after all. Your hands are stained now. You’ve taken another’s life.” She chuckles as if the thought is amusing. “And that marks your soul. I wonder what that will do to your magic. What it will do to your heart.”
What does she mean? Is she, as usual, trying to get inside my head?
I flick my gaze to Beaufort. He shakes his head as if to tell me to ignore her words.
“Do you have a taste for it now, darling?” she continues. “It’s such a thrill, isn’t it? Makes you feel so utterly powerful. It’s quite addictive. Once you start, you just can’t stop.”
I shake my head. The woman is sick and evil. I am not like her. I’m nothing like her.
“Has he offered to turn you yet, darling?” she asks, pointing to Fox, slumped between me and Beaufort. “If you enjoy the killing so much, you could join us.”
“Never,” Beaufort growls.
“You don’t fancy being immortal then, Prince Beaufort? Imagine the advantages it would give you against all your rivals to the throne.”
“What?” I can’t help but blurt out.
“I’d rather die than be like you,” Beaufort sneers.
“That can be arranged.”
Beaufort grips the sword in his hands and his shadows crackle in the air. Behind us Blaze growls as if he can feel the tension in the air. Above us, the demons squawk.
“Give yourself in,” Beaufort says.
“And why would I do that? I think I have the advantage here, don’t you? And so you are going to have to make a choice. Do as the Empress commands and arrest me.” Something must flicker in my eyes because she adds, “Oh yes, you think I didn’t know she’s commanded you? Of course, I did. So you can do as your Empress orders, or you can ignore that order and save your beloved Fox Tudor instead.”
“I’m going to do both,” I tell her.
“No, darling, you’re not.”
She cackles like she’s actually deranged, raises her hand above her head and the swarm of demons begin to rain down on us.
They dive at us with their talons outstretched, sharp and razor-like, and together Beaufort and I raise our hands. The professor collapses back down to his knees, as we send our magic soaring up to meet the creatures. Blaze follows our example, tipping back his great head and roaring flames of red-hot fire up towards the demons that dive-bomb us.
Perhaps we’d stand a chance if it was the three of us against them. But there’s Bardin as well. She’s still laughing hysterically as she sends her twisted shadow magic racing towards us. I’m forced to break away my magic from the onslaught and send it crashing into hers instead.
“Beaufort!” I cry, straining against the power of Bardin’s magic. Out here in this desolate realm it seems even stronger, as if it’s feeding on the evilness of this place.
“We need to leave, Briony.”
He’s right. It’s a trap, just like we expected. We need the others. We need them helping us. We need Fox.
“Beaufort,” I say, “can you hold off the Madame if Blaze can hold back the demons just for a moment?”
He looks at me quizzically.
“We need help,” I say. “We need Fox.”
I’ve never seen the professor fight, but I’ve always sensed his magic. It’s almost as strong and as powerful as Thorne’s. Cold, icy; not hot and fiery like Thorne’s, but deadly, nonetheless. If he could join us, I’m sure we’d have a chance of escape. We might even have a chance of bringing down Bardin too.
“Briony,” Beaufort warns, unable to resist the urge to order me about as usual. “Be careful.”
And then with his sword in both hands, he charges towards Bardin.
I release my magic and, mimicking what I’d seen the Princes do last night, use it instead to create a dome of protection; one I hope will keep the demons at bay for just a moment, especially with the dragon pouring hot fire their way.
And then I turn my attention back to Fox. His eyes are still blood red, and he looks at me.
“You know what I’m going to say,” I tell him, “and you know I’m not going to take no for an answer. We need you, Fox. Otherwise none of us are going to get out of here alive.”
“Briony,” he pleads. “If it goes wrong…” He trails off. “I’d rather we all died than turn you into a monster like me.”
“That won’t happen,” I say. “You’ll only take a little. You’ll only take as much as you need.”
“I can’t guarantee–”
“Fox,” I say. “We’ve been here before, and I trust you.”
His gaze drifts to my throat and lingers there, and I tilt back my head, elongating my neck and running my fingers down the artery that thumps there.
“Just one bite,” I tempt him. “Just enough. Just a little.”
I press my fingers against the vein, making the blood jump in my throat, and his eyes flash.
“Come here,” he says, lisping, his fangs sharp once again. “Come a little closer, Briony.”
I bend over him and his bony hands rest on my shoulders. I nearly start crying all over again. He’s so weak and I can’t bear it.
“You smell so–” He groans. His tongue licks against my skin, icy cold and making me gasp. I wait for the pinch of his teeth. But it doesn’t come. “I can’t,” he says, rocking away.
“Fox,” I say sternly. “We’re going to die unless you do this now.”
I cover my hands over his, forcing him to grip my shoulders more tightly.
He hisses, and his breath, just as cold as his flesh, stings against my skin.
“I never wanted it to be like this, Briony,” he says, pained.
And then I feel the first sting of his teeth as they sink into my throat. At first the bite is weak, barely penetrating my flesh, and he sucks feebly too. I wonder if any of my blood is even reaching his mouth. But then he growls, his fingers tighten on my shoulders, his teeth sink right into the depths of my neck, and he sucks more urgently. I can feel the pull of it; my skin and my blood drawn into his mouth.
A bright light crashes across my vision, an ecstasy like I’ve never felt before pours through my body and takes all my thoughts, all my fear, all my reasoning with it, till all I’m aware of is that sucking at my neck, making me dizzy and languid and lazy. He’s right – it’s addictive, utterly addictive.
I cry out as an orgasm ricochets through my body, and I’m too weak to hold it at bay. The man could kill me; he could drink me dry, and I’d beg for him to do it.
I see how dangerous this is now, why he’s always wanted to avoid it at all costs.
“Fox,” I whimper, and I have no idea if I’m pleading with him to stop or begging for him to continue.
I’m barely aware of the demons screeching above us, of the fire roaring from Blaze’s jaws, of Bardin cackling and crowing and Beaufort’s grunts and groans. I have no idea if we’re moments from death. I’m not sure if I care. And yet there’s something tethering me to reality, and I think it’s the magic in my chest – not Fox’s – that sings and dances, but Beaufort’s and Dray’s and Thorne’s magic, attempting to pull me back to where I belong.
“Fox,” I moan. “Fox, stop!”
Because my head is not only dizzy with this bliss, I’m lightheaded. I can feel more and more of my blood flowing away from me and into him. And how much can he take before …
But he doesn’t hear me. Or maybe he does, and he’s too consumed by this to care. My hands, lying on top of his, barely grip him now, weak and useless.
I fight to stop my thoughts from fading away and send my magic buzzing, delighted with this ecstasy, shooting from my fingertips and into Fox.
He yelps as if I stung him, and then he’s falling away from me. I hear him scuttling backwards.
When I open my eyes, I find his mouth red with my blood, some of it coursing down his chin. He catches it with his fingers and then he’s licking them clean. His eyes glow so intensely red it’s as if they are flaming from within, and the color is vibrant on his cheeks. Even his form seems much stronger, more vital than it did only seconds before.
I bring my hand to my neck, clutching it firmly to stem the blood flow, and use my magic to heal the puncture wounds he’s made in my throat.
The professor licks his lips and slides his tongue down his long, deadly fangs. He glares at me like something feral, something possessed, like he wants to consume me.
“F-F-Fox,” I say, raising my other hand, ready to strike if I need to.
If sucking my throat was nearly half as good for him as it was for me, then I may need to stop him from taking more. He may not be able to resist it.
His eyes flash. And for a moment he looks as evil as Madame Bardin. But then he shakes his head, and when he looks at me again, his eyes are that beautiful amber color, and he looks like Fox. My Fox.
“I love you,” he says simply. And then he’s leaping to his feet and shooting cold shadow magic up towards the demons.
And I’m right – he is powerful. The magic streaming from his hands is fierce, the demons blasted away as if they are nothing but annoying insects. And I watch as, one by one, they disappear into the air.
I frown. If he was this powerful, if he was this strong, how did they take him in the first place? It makes no sense. But then I recollect myself, raise my own hand, and send my magic towards the demons as well. And then the three of us – Blaze, Fox, and me – destroy the demons spinning in the sky above us.
I half expect to find my own magic weakened after that feeding. After all, the professor just took a considerable volume of my blood, and I definitely feel a little lightheaded as a consequence. But to the contrary, I find my magic bright and exhilarating, as if the act of offering up my throat to the professor has rejuvenated my powers. Or maybe the jubilation has come from finding him alive, from being reunited with my fated mate.
The last of the demons disintegrates into ash above us. And then I turn to Fox.
I laugh. “Well, that was easier than I expected. You’re much more powerful than I imagined, Professor.”
He shakes his head, smiling at me, my heart leaping in response.
“No. It’s never been that powerful before. That’s because of you, Briony. The light in your blood.”
We stand there smiling at each other, and it’s nearly as entrancing as when his teeth were buried in my neck. Then I collect myself for the second time. I search the strange space we find ourselves in.
“Where’s Beaufort?” I say.
Chapter Forty
Beaufort
The sword glows in my hand and pulses with a magic that is both foreign and familiar. A magic, I think, that must be ancient.
Beyond the blade, I can see the looming figure of Bardin grinning as I pace towards her. Above me, the demons are circling menacingly, and behind me the dragon shoots fireballs, incinerating them in large numbers.
Beyond the dragon, I know what Briony plans to do, and I can’t watch. Even if I could risk flicking my gaze from Bardin, I wouldn’t want to see what I know is about to happen.
But she’s right. If we hope to leave this place alive, we need the professor and his powers. Bardin is stronger out here in this realm, and perhaps he will be too.
“What do you hope to do, Beaufort Lincoln?” Bardin says, amusement dancing in her eyes.
“Kill you,” I say. I’ve run out of patience. This woman has endangered the life of my mate one too many times. It ends here. I don’t care about the consequences. I don’t care what my mother will think or do. And unfortunately, I know from experience, she will do something. She has never taken kindly to dissent. She has always stamped it out, and that includes when it comes from her children. I am no fool. I know I am not her favorite child.
“Come on then, Prince, come kill me.” She beckons me with the crook of her finger. Her eyes glint as she watches the swing of my blade through the gloom.
I creep forward. She holds her ground. Her magic, swimming around her hands, does not come to meet me. She’s humoring me. But she underestimates my power and my resolve.
“I’m immortal, darling,” she says. “You don’t have the same powers as your little thrall, and I am not weak. You must know you can’t kill me.”
“I can,” I growl, “if I remove your head from your shoulders.”
I lunge forward, swiping the blade towards her, but she darts backwards and I miss. The sword hisses as it cuts through the air, and the bitch spins on her toes, cackling as she darts down the tunnel behind her.
