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Again, he’s thrown off by my question, but then again, I’m not surprised. I honestly hadn’t expected him to come after me so soon, and judging by his lack of clarity, I doubt even he planned to.
His frustration gets the better of him as it manifests in physical violence. Pulling his arm back, he slams my head against the window again, and I hear the panes of glass strain and squeal as they begin to crack in protest.
“Don’t question me, Dante,” he hisses. “Whether or not I kill you tonight has no bearing on what’s to come. Seven attacked me on neutral grounds, massacred an entire den of our kind, and gave me the right to challenge your claim on the city.”
“Seven had every right to take out the twins and every bloody one of those bloodsuckers,” I say coldly, my fingertips brushing against the brass knuckles.
“Don’t use such vile language,” Valentine snaps. “You’re one of them, just as much as the next.”
“That may be so, but at least I know how to meet my needs without resorting to destroying the lives of innocents.”
“Is that so?” he sneers. “Then how do you explain Evi?”
“So, you don’t know,” I say with a cold laugh.
Valentine’s face hardens.
“Know what?”
“Evi was given as payment for one ofyourdebtors.”
My father’s grip on me loosens slightly, giving me just enough time to slip the brass knuckles over my fingers and land a solid punch to the side of his face.
He releases me as he stumbles back. Blinking, he raises a hand to his lip as a trickle of blood makes its way down his chin.
Staring at the blood that comes away on his fingertips, he snaps back into focus as he storms toward me.
“Youstoleher from me?!”
I ready to dodge his cane as he swings it at my head.
“No, Isavedher from you. The debt to you was paid.”
Valentine roars in fury, his eyes flashing dangerously, as he throws himself at me. His shoulder slams into my chest, throwing us both back against the wall.
“How many of my debtors have you stolen?” he growls.
“As many as I could get my hands on.”
“So, you’re the reason I …”
“You what?”
He scoffs, shaking his head at me.
“No, you won’t get me that easily,” he says, just before jamming something between my ribs.
I inhale sharply as he steps back, and I look down to see a knife sticking out of my torso before glancing back up at him in confusion.
“What?”
It’s not like I’ve never been stabbed before … and then I feel it.
He’s poisoned the blade.
I gasp as I drop to my knees, just barely managing to pull the blade from my ribs as my body begins to seize.
“Don’t worry, it won’t kill you,” my father says, straightening his suit as he squares his shoulders. “Not yet.”
