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Leviathan belched flames at her with all the hatred in his black heart. Yet nothing happened to her. Her clothes didn’t catch fire. Her skin didn’t burn. Even her throat remained unmarked by Xin’s teeth.
Rik’s rock troll slammed his fists together around her head with all the strength of his giant body. He hadn’t been able to damage me much—and she only laughed. Taunting him. Clapping as if we were performing a circus act for her.
The crow and rat had been able to harm her. But not us.
Because we were Blood?
“I’ve got this.” Guillaume de Payne’s Templar sword whispered the promise of death as he lifted it before him and kissed the blade. “Find a way to stop the bleeding.”
Despite the knight’s words, the kraken’s tentacles boiled around her. Squeezing her. Trying to crush the life out of her.
But he couldn’t make her laughter stop.
Okeanos withdrew but slammed against the blood circle, slinging his longest tentacle toward the table.
Coated with the Dauphine’s blood from her cheek and wounded hand—the tentacle passed through the blood circle.
He stretched, straining to reach Undina’s throat. His entire body pressed against the shimmering energy of the circle. Even though it hurt. The sizzle and pop of his flesh cooking in the heat of the Dauphine’s power.
Roaring in pain, he shoved the tip of the tentacle into his mother’s throat.
The circle sheared through the tentacle, severing it from his body. But the twitching limb curled around his mother’s neck. Sealing the wound.
Blood stopped pouring from the table. Buying us time.
I could shift into the sphinx—but there wasn’t room inside the fragile chamber. Not with the dragon, kraken, and rock troll already shifted. And if they couldn’t harm her, what could I do?
“You can’t kill me, Executioner.” The Dauphine laughed, shaking her head. “My body’s wrapped in Eleusinian Mysteries and cannot be penetrated except by creatures of the natural world. Don’t you think Desideria would have eliminated me first if it had been within her power to do so?”
Unperturbed, Guillaume causally flicked his sword at her. It wasn’t a slash or stab meant to harm or even cut her. His wrist turned the flat of the blade against her wounded cheek.
The Dauphine spread her arms, tipped back her head, and laughed joyously. “I believe you missed, sir knight.”
“Did I, though? How does that steel taste, bitch? Because my queen blessed this blade with her very own blood before we left New York City.”
Unease flickered over her face, and she slowly lowered her arms. “A mere drop of your precious queen’s blood can’t stand against me.”
The knight smiled. “Desideria said something very similar to me when she first tasted Esetta Isador’s venom in my blood. It doesn’t take much, though. A mere drop is enough to turn your fucking face as black as your soul, and my queen has feasted on several of her poisoned Blood. Recently, in fact. So the venom should still be nice and strong.”
I didn’t See any change to her face, but she reached up with trembling fingers to cover the wound.
“She has sibs. Blood. They’ve tasted her blood and not died.”
“True.” Guillaume nodded, turning the sword so the blade lay against his other palm. Holding her gaze, he licked the blade close to the hilt, letting his eyes flutter in bliss as if he could still taste Shara. “Though her blood was freely given to us. What do you think her blood will do to the one who turned her mother and former Blood into walking zombies?”
* * *
SHARA
The tentacle curls around our throat. Stopping the blood streaming from the table.
Oh, mighty kraken. How we love you.
So much blood. Waiting to be used.
Call it back. Pull it back to the Mother. Her daughters. We need it.
Deep inside, we pull. The ceaseless tug of the tides. The inescapable gravity of a black hole. This blood is ours. It flows back to the Mother of All.
