Chapter 15

Chapter 15

It was…it was chaos.

Half of the knights charged Casteel, and the others turned on the ones lined up—

Elijah snagged the arm of a knight who’d lifted a sword, smashing his closed fist down. The crack of bone drew a howl of pain as Elijah caught the sword and turned it on the guard. The sword was bloodstone, and it did what was intended, piercing the black armor and sinking deep into the knight’s chest. Elijah pulled the blade free, and I expected to see the knight fall, just like a Craven, as Elijah spun, his sword clanging off another. There were shouts of pain and a godsawful hissing noise, but I couldn’t pull my eyes away from the knight.

He didn’t simply fall like a Craven would. Fissures appeared along his cheeks, spreading across his face and down his neck, forming a web of fractures that disappeared under the clothing and armor. His skin…cracked.

Strips of flesh peeled back and flaked off, shattering into dust that was caught on and swept away by the wind. Within seconds, nothing remained of the knight but the clothing and armor he’d once worn, left in a pile on the ground.

The Craven didn’t die like that. Their bodies remained whole. That hadn’t happened to the Duke, but he’d been killed with a cane fashioned from a tree from the Blood Forest. And that hadn’t happened when I killed Lord Mazeen, but the blade was made of steel. Not bloodstone.

My gaze fell to my wolven dagger. That…that was what bloodstone did to an Ascended?

For a few very precious seconds, I was frozen where I stood, my gaze sweeping across the yard, over the clash of swords and bodies, over the blood splattering the snow.

The knights…they weren’t just fighting the Descenters. They were attacking them. Many still had their swords in their scabbards. Their weapons were their fangs and their strength. They overpowered the mortals among the people of the keep almost immediately, faces twisted in snarls, fangs gleaming in the moonlight. They flew at them, jumping on some, driving them down to the ground like…like a Craven would. My knees felt strangely weak as I stood there.

Bloodlust.

Maybe they didn’t screech like the Craven or appear decayed and half dead, but what I was seeing was clearly bloodlust.

Any lingering doubt I had about everything Casteel had claimed nearly vanished when I saw the chamber. But now, there was none. This was what the Ascended truly looked like, and I had never seen anything more terrifying.

Naill appeared. From where, I wasn’t sure. He grabbed a knight by the nape of the neck, tearing him free from a man. He shoved a short sword through the knight’s back, but it appeared to be too late for the man. He fell to the ground, his throat a mangled mess.

Delano suddenly rushed past me, jarring me from my stupor. With one powerful lunge, he took down a knight that had grabbed hold of a woman, his face buried in her neck—his teeth in her throat. The woman staggered a few feet, pressing her hand to the wound.

Blinking, I turned and saw Casteel shove a sword into a knight’s chest and then spin, leaving the sword there. He grabbed the back of another knight’s head, yanking it back. The Ascended’s head dropped, and Casteel…

Air leaked out of my parted lips.

He tore through the knight’s neck, ripping it open. Tossing the man aside, he spat out the blood as he grabbed the sword from the other’s chest, pulling it free a second before the knight turned to ash.

I scanned the yard, no longer seeing Lord Chaney, but I did see a knight backing up—the one who held the child. He used the boy as a shield, keeping the sword under the young one’s chin.

The wolven dagger practically vibrated in my hand, and I was finally moving. Instinct crowded out the horror, and it was like being on the Rise or recently when I’d faced the Craven. A sense of focus and calm settled over me as I darted into the yard, running for the carriage. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kieran leap upon a knight that had Elijah’s back pinned against the stone wall of the keep. He grabbed the knight in his powerful wolven jaws, flinging him to the ground. Magda appeared, thrusting one of the bloodstone swords down.

I slowed as I moved along the back of the carriage, stopping at the edge. Peering around it, I saw the knight dragging the now-struggling boy toward the stables, a thick arm around his neck. In the moonlight, the child’s wide, panicked eyes met mine a moment before the knight turned away.

“Keep fighting,” the knight growled. “That really gets the blood pumping.”

The child was no longer a shield.

He was food.

Fury pumped my blood as I slipped out from behind the carriage, crossing the distance between us as I flipped the heavy-handled dagger so I held it by its blade—just like Vikter had taught me.

The knight turned suddenly, dragging the boy around as if he were nothing more than a rag doll. He lifted the sword as his gaze, reddish black in the moonlight, flickered over me—over my face. The scars. His eyes widened in recognition. He knew who I was. His arm loosened, dropping a fraction as he lowered the sword.

I saw my chance.

I took it.

The dagger flew from my fingers, spinning through the air. The blade struck true, slicing through the knight’s eye and embedding itself deep in his brain. His hand spasmed open, releasing the sword. It fell to the ground as tiny cracks in his flesh appeared, racing across his skin. They were thin but deep, and when he broke apart, it was almost as if he caved into himself.

“Damn,” the little boy said, eyes wide. He turned, bending to pick up the dagger from the armor. He handed it to me. “You got him! You got him right in the eye! How did you do that? Will you show me?”

Relieved to see that the child wasn’t remotely traumatized, my lips twitched. “Maybe—”

“A two for one special?” a voice sounded from behind us. “Perfect.”

“Run and hide,” I told the boy, shoving him away. Hoping he listened, I squared off with a knight. Blood and gore covered his mouth in thick clumps. I was beginning to think the vow of silence didn’t apply when they weren’t hiding what they were.

Either he hadn’t been given a description of what I looked like, which didn’t seem likely, or he was too lost to bloodlust. That sounded more probable. He bared his fangs, hissing as he bent. I saw now that their teeth were like those of the Craven. There weren’t only two fangs, but four. Two on the top, and two on the bottom. Short and easily hidden, but no less deadly.

The knight charged me with all the grace of a barrat. Knowing that the armor would be hard for me to pierce, even with a bloodstone dagger, I braced myself. The moment his fingers grazed my arm, I stepped to the side as I swung the dagger down on the center of his chest with all my strength. My blow met resistance, but the knight’s own body weight and momentum worked to my advantage. The blade pierced the armor and then the chest.

The knight’s shout of pain and shock ended abruptly. Jerking the dagger free, I danced back as the fissures in his skin appeared. I didn’t want to be anywhere near him when he broke apart. The thought of the ash, of the pieces of him, getting on me, in my hair or mouth—or oh, gods, in my eyes—made me want to vomit.

“Maiden?”

The hair along my neck rose at the sound of Lord Chaney’s voice. I turned around, my heart lodged in my throat. The fangs were hidden, his placid expression not set to one of awe. Blood seeped from a wound on his chest. It looked like someone had almost gotten him with a sword or dagger, but he’d been too fast. What had caused the lurch in my chest was what he held against him.

It was the boy.

The child either hadn’t listened to me or wasn’t fast enough. Lord Chaney had one hand curled under the child’s throat. Thin rivulets of blood ran from where the Ascended’s nails dug into the boy’s skin.

“They told me you were scarred,” the Lord said. His eyes were like the blackest fire as they flicked to the dagger. “I assumed they meant it was just a scratch or two, just a minor flaw. But it is you.”

“It is me.” I rapidly ran through the possible scenarios as the boy trembled. Almost all of them ended with the child’s death, and I couldn’t have that on my soul. Too many people had already died or were seriously wounded. Names would be carved in the chamber’s walls, all because the Ascended had come for me. I only saw one way for the boy to survive. “You’re here to save me.” The words tasted of ash on my tongue. “Thank the gods.”

Lord Chaney watched me closely. “Are you sure you’re in need of saving? You killed two knights.”

“One of them was trying to hurt the boy, and the other knight…he scared me,” I forced out. “I thought they were going to hurt me. I didn’t know there were Ascended among the Royal Knights.”

A humorless half-smile appeared. “There’s no need to be afraid now, Maiden,” he said. “You’re safe. Lay down the bloodstone.”

The hairs were still at attention. The dagger was my only weapon against an Ascended. Without it, the paltry meat knife would be little to no help. Just like it would’ve if I had managed to escape the night prior. Casteel had been painfully right about how badly that would’ve gone, though now wasn’t the time for self-recriminations. “You’re hurting the boy.”

The Lord’s brows rose as the sound of fighting continued in the yard. “Am I?”

I nodded. “He’s bleeding.”

He didn’t take his eyes off me. I knew I wouldn’t be able to throw the dagger as I had before. The element of surprise was gone. “He’s a Descenter, Maiden.”

“He’s just a child—”

“A child of those who sought to kidnap you. His safety should be the least of your worries. Why you stand before me unveiled, not only holding a bloodstone dagger but also with the knowledge of how to use it is far more concerning.”

I almost laughed. Leave it to an Ascended to believe that my unveiled face and my ability to fight was more concerning than the fate of a child. “But he’s just a little boy, and I believe he’s a second son,” I quickly lied. “He is destined to Ascend, and the gods will be very displeased if something were to happen to him, wouldn’t they?”

“Ah, yes. I wouldn’t want to displease the gods.” His fingers eased, and the boy wheezed raggedly. The Lord placed his hands on the boy’s tiny shoulders. “Lay down the dagger. You don’t need it now. Then I shall let him go. I will take you far from here, back to your Queen. She is very worried about you, Maiden.”

With the dagger, I had a chance. Lord Chaney was fast, and smarter than the knight. He wouldn’t come at me like a wild boar. I’d have to be clever. But without my bloodstone weapon? I stood no chance. The Lord wouldn’t kill me. The Ascended needed me. The child, however? He would kill him with little thought. My gaze dipped to the boy. He’d been at the stables, shouting, “From blood and ash” when the others called for me to be sent back to the Queen in pieces. But he was just a child.

Exhaling slowly, I opened my hand. The dagger slipped from my fingers. It hit the ground with a soft thunk that sounded like a door being closed. “I’m ready to go home.” I steadied my voice. “To my Queen. Please?”

Lord Chaney smiled again, and dread knotted my stomach. He nodded, and that was the only warning I had before shocking pain exploded across the back of my head, and my world plummeted into darkness.

Jostled into consciousness, I woke to my head throbbing as if it were splitting in two and a dry, cottony feeling in the back of my mouth. The constant, rough rocking forced my eyes open. Everything was a blur of crimson.

I blinked until my vision cleared. A gas lamp cast a soft glow over the crimson. I was in a carriage, laid out on a cushioned bench draped in red. I drew in a deep breath and almost coughed on the heavy, too-sweet cologne.

“You wake.”

My stomach dropped. Lord Chaney. I rose unsteadily, wincing as pain spiked intensely across the back of my skull. The Ascended came into view as I reached around and gingerly touched the skin. It was tender, and there was a small lump, but no blood, even though the area throbbed.

“You hit me,” I said, my voice hoarse.

“I didn’t hit you,” Lord Chaney replied. He sat in an arrogant sprawl, arms resting along the back of the bench. “Sir Terrlynn was the one who struck you. It was distasteful but necessary.”

“Why?” I quickly glanced around the carriage. There was nothing I could use as a weapon, and I doubted there was bloodstone or Blood Forest stakes hidden anywhere.

But I did have the…knife. Although, what was I going to do with a meat knife against an Ascended?

“We needed to make haste, and I feared you would somehow…unintentionally delay us.” He shifted on the bench, lines of tension forming at the corners of his mouth.

My gaze dipped as I lowered my hand to the seat beside me. The wound across his chest was visible beneath the tear in his tunic. The reddish-pink skin was jagged, and the gash appeared deep. Ascended were known to heal rapidly from wounds, much like the Atlantians.

“How long have I been unconscious?” I asked. With no windows, I couldn’t tell if it was day or night.

“You slept for about an hour.”

My heart tripped over itself. An hour? Good gods, I couldn’t believe he even escaped the keep—eluded Casteel. But the Prince had to have realized I’d been taken.

What if he thought I’d gone with the Ascended of my own accord, even after everything I’d seen and been told? Tightness seized my chest, but I couldn’t worry about that now. I glanced at the door. Over the sound of the carriage wheels, I could hear the pounding of hooves. We weren’t alone.

“If you’re planning to escape, I would advise against such a foolish thing,” Lord Chaney stated. “We are traveling at quite a speed, and I doubt you would survive such a fall. But if you did, know that we do not travel alone. Sir Terrlynn rides beside us, as do several knights and guards.”

Drawing in a shallow breath, I ignored the sharp rise of nausea as I met the pitch-black eyes of the vampry. A chill swept over my skin. Even though I hadn’t considered throwing myself out of the door of a speeding carriage, I was definitely planning on escaping. I had no idea how long I’d been in the library, but I figured we were several hours away from dawn, when the Lord and the knights would need to seek shelter from the sun. That would be my chance to escape.

And then what?

I had no idea, but I would have to figure that out when I got to that point. Until then, it would be best if I could convince the Lord that I was a willing participant in this.

“Why would you think I’d want to escape?” I asked as I leaned back, folding my hands in my lap as I crossed my ankles. I sat just like I would if I wore the veil. It was like slipping on a mask—a suffocating and toxic disguise. “I feared that no one would come for me. I’m surprised that you found me so quickly.”

“We have eyes everywhere, Maiden,” he replied, rubbing at the space above his wound. “Even in places where the Descenters are firmly entrenched.”

“Is that how you found Mrs. Tulis? The woman who…who was with you?” In this very carriage, possibly where I was sitting. And now she was dead on the cold ground. Where was her son?

A tight smile appeared. “It was mere coincidence that we happened upon her. She was on foot, a few miles outside of New Haven, walking in the snow. She was nearly frozen when we found her. What an idiot.” He let out a rough laugh, and I wanted to strike out at him, making his laugh the last breath he took. “She claimed that the Dark One had killed her husband.”

Mrs. Tulis hadn’t chosen any of Casteel’s options. Heart sinking even further into grief, I suppressed a shudder. Had Casteel known that Mrs. Tulis had left? Could I blame her? She probably feared the same would happen to her.

“We were already en route to New Haven, only a handful of days behind you,” he told me. “We discovered that several of those who were escorting you were not who they claimed. The Descenters had worked their way even into the highest ranks of our guards.”

Did he mean Commander Jansen? It would make sense if they’d discovered that he had helped Casteel. If so, I knew Jansen was dead.

“So, Mrs. Tulis was an unexpected find, but she confirmed that a woman traveled with the Dark One, someone that others whispered was the Maiden,” he told me, swallowing thickly. “She was right.”

“But if you knew that, why did you kill her?” I asked, a part of me needing to understand such an action.

“She fled the city instead of obeying the order of the Rite.”

I waited for him to say more, but there were no other words. I inhaled sharply, nearly gagging on the floral scent of his cologne. “And what of her child? Her son?”

Lord Chaney simply smiled. There was no explanation. Nothing. Dread knotted in my chest at the sight of the cold, inhuman curve of his lips. He couldn’t have done something to the child. Right? My eyes closed briefly. My refusal didn’t come from a place of naivety, but from the inability to fathom how one could smile if they had harmed an infant. But there were all those children, some so young, that were given over to the Temples during the Rite. No one ever saw them again for a reason, and it had nothing to do with their service to the gods.

“What of the boy?” I opened my eyes. “His parents may have been Descenters, but he is only a child.”

“He remains at the keep.”

That was a small measure of relief, but I latched on to it. Anything to stop myself from vomiting as I fixed what I hoped was a serene expression on my face. A look of blind, devoted trust as he watched me, and I…watched him.

Lord Chaney could be considered a handsome man. I’d overheard a few of the Ladies in Wait, those second daughters given to the Court to Ascend, speak of him. But I didn’t remember him being this pale. His skin was leached of all color, and I could see the faint blue veins underneath.

“Are you…well?” I asked. “The wound appears…quite fierce.”

“It is a very…fierce wound.” He continued massaging his chest. The lines bracketing his mouth deepened as his lips parted. “Penellaphe?”

I twitched at the sound of my name. “Yes, my Lord?”

He still hadn’t blinked. Not once since I woke up, and wasn’t that entirely unsettling? “You can stop pretending.”

Ice hit my veins. “Pretending what?”

Chaney leaned toward me, and I tensed. His fingers stilled. “Tell me something, Maiden. Did you welcome the bite of an Atlantian? Perhaps even enjoy the forbidden blood kiss? Or did he force it upon you? Hold you down and take your blood against your will?”

That damn bite.

My fingernails dug into my palms. “It…it was not welcomed.”

A hint of red churned in the black abyss of his eyes. Just like a Craven. Gods. “Is that so?” he asked.

I nodded.

“The Dark One bit you, and yet, you sit before me, not as a Craven. That must’ve come as a shock.”

Gods, I’d forgotten that. How could I have forgotten that the Ascended had taught us that an Atlantian’s bite was poisonous? “Yes, but I am the Chosen—”

“And you saw us tonight, out in the yard. You saw what we are,” he interrupted. “Yet you do not seem surprised. You showed more shock and concern regarding that woman’s death.” He lifted a hand, placing it on the bench beside my knee. “You say you’re relieved that I found you?”

“I am.”

He laughed softly. “I don’t believe you.”

All of my senses went on alert as I spared a brief glance at his hand. The veins stood out starkly. He was not well. Not at all.

Chaney tsked softly under his breath. “The King and Queen are going to be so displeased.”

I didn’t dare take my eyes off him. “Displeased by what? You ordering a knight to strike me?”

“They may be unhappy to learn that, yes, but I do believe they’ll be more disturbed to learn you’ve been compromised.” The red burned brighter in his eyes. “And most likely in more ways than one.”

The implication in his tone ignited my temper, and for a moment, I remembered that I wore no veil. “You should be more concerned about yourself.” I met his stare. “You’re not looking well, Lord Chaney. Perhaps the wound is more serious than you realize.”

“That bastard Atlantian almost got my heart,” he said, features turning hollow. “But I’ll survive.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” I bit out.

“I’m sure you are.” The carriage hit a rock, jostling me, but Chaney didn’t seem to notice. “There was a reason I was charged with finding you. Do you know why that is?”

“Your patience and generosity?”

His chuckle was like nails dragging along my nerve endings. “I didn’t know the Maiden was so feisty.”

I arched a brow.

“I was chosen because I know what you truly are.”

I forced my hands to unclench.

“I know what is really in your blood, and I dare say I know more than even you do.”

“Is that so?”

His lips parted, and I wanted to recoil from the sight of his fangs—a reaction that was nothing like when I saw Casteel’s. “You cannot even begin to comprehend why you were Chosen, but that’s neither here nor there. You’ll learn soon enough.”

“And what is it that I will learn?”

His eyes, a kaleidoscope of red and black, fixed on me—on my neck. “That you will usher in a whole new era of Ascended.”

Disgust rippled through me. “Do you think I don’t already know that?”

“I don’t think you can even possibly begin to understand what that means. But be that as it may, you were right. I am a bit more wounded than I let on. If it hadn’t been bloodstone, it would be healing by now. I’ve said to the Queen and King, time and time again, that all the bloodstone needs to be destroyed. But without it, she worries that the Craven would then overwhelm the people.”

“Can’t have your food source being destroyed now, can you?” I said before I could stop myself.

“The Dark One has obviously been whispering in your ear.” His tongue ran along his bottom lip. “He’s obviously been doing more than that.”

“It doesn’t matter what he’s been doing.” I smiled just as coldly as he. “What does matter is that I know why I’m the Queen’s favorite. I know what you all plan to do with me. I know you won’t touch me. I’m needed alive so that I can either keep the Atlantian you have held in captivity fed or be used to make more Ascended.”

His head tilted. “You’re right about one thing. We do need you alive. That’s about it.”

Before I could even process what he said, that I was only right about one thing, he rose and moved toward me.

And I reacted.

Leaning back, I planted my booted foot in his chest and kicked him back to his bench.

His eyes widened as he laughed. “Dear Maiden, that was unnecessary. I just need a sip. The King and Queen never need to know. It will be our secret. One you would be wise to keep—”

I kicked out again, catching him in the chest once more.

He hissed in pain. “That wasn’t very nice,” he snarled as I shifted, reaching for the knife. “That actually hurt.”

“That was the point.” I unsheathed the blade, holding it steady. “If you know as much as you think you do about me, then you’ll realize I know how to use this. It may not kill you, but I can make you wish it would.”

His burning black eyes widened as he held up his hands. “Now. Now.” His tone was placating. Patronizing. “There’s no need for threats of violence.”

“There’s not?” Keeping an eye on him, I scooted across the bench, toward the door.

He tracked my movements. “Did you forget about the speed in which we’re traveling? The knights?”

“I’d rather take my chances of being trampled to death. At least I’ll go to the grave knowing you’ll probably be right behind me once the King and Queen learn that I’m dead because of you.” I reached for the door—

Chaney struck.

I expected him to go for the knife. I reared back. The moment his hand reached around my ankle, I realized I had made a fatal miscalculation. He yanked hard, pulling me off the bench. My back cracked off the edge of the seat, sending a jolt to my already aching head as I went down hard in the cramped space.

He pulled me toward him, over the rough, dirty, wet floor, laughing the whole while. “There’s no point in fighting—”

Gripping his knee, I sat up, swinging the knife with all my might into his chest—into the angry, seeping wound.

Chaney howled, lashing out. His fist caught my jaw, snapping my head back. Bright bursts of light crowded the sides of my vision as he fell back in his seat, clutching at his chest. I struggled to my feet. The carriage jerked, pitched me back and then forward. Grabbing his shoulder for balance, I climbed onto him. He twisted under me, moving onto his back and then rolled, throwing me to the side. I crashed into the back of the bench, hitting the cushions and then fell to the floor. Air punched out of my lungs in a painful rush. I started to sit up, but Chaney dropped on top of me.

“I don’t know how the Teermans managed to be around you, knowing what you truly are. Not without stealing just a taste. You may only be half-Atlantian, but your blood is potent.” His weight and the stench of his cologne was unbearable, suffocating as he gripped my left arm, yanking it to his mouth. “I just need a little bit. Then the damn throbbing in my chest will stop—”

“No!” I shouted, struggling wildly beneath him. All my years of training disappeared in a flood of panic. I kicked the bottom of the bench with the leg that wasn’t pinned. I kicked him, the floor, the seat—

But it was no use.

The vampry’s teeth shredded my skin, sinking into the flesh of my lower arm.

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