A smattering of applause.
“This is no different. However, I have now captured the biggest threat to our joy. Not even the demon Menelaus is a greater enemy. No, this is a traitor who has terrorized our peace and good fortune, haunted our very dreams, for thousands of years.”
A roar of murmurs swept through the crowd like wildfire. One word was on the air, carrying from one noble to the next. Paris.
“Silence!” Desmerada boomed before settling back into her conciliatory tone. “Even now, after all this time, I have continued our hunt for the one who would seek to destroy us. And now”—her voice rose for the flourish—“see for yourselves!”
The curtain was ripped from the cage, and the nobles nearest me backed away. A discordant rush of hisses rose in the room. Some of the female nobles clutched the jewels at their throats, and they all bared their fangs.
These were not the nobles of my father’s reign. Instead, they were the dredges left after Desmerada purged any and all who were still loyal to Priam’s line. The real vampire lineage lived in the Darkwood village. They were the last light, the last hope for the vampire race, not the adorned pretenders surrounding me.
Desmerada sat at the head table, front and center in the hall. She raised a golden cup to me, and the nobles followed suit. “To the traitor. Askenith.”
The nobles repeated her words before draining their cups. The air was thick with anticipation. Desmerada rose from her seat. She wore a crimson gown that plunged in a deep V down to her stomach. Her dark hair was coiled on her head. The crowd parted and bowed as she approached my cage.
A dozen guards ascended to the platform. One readied to open the latch while the others tensed to grab me. I didn’t fight—simply walked out and into their rough grips. There was nowhere to run. Nothing I could do. I placed all my trust in Elena. That trust wouldn’t fail me, not even if Desmerada’s sword took my life and sent me to Hades. I would never stop believing.
“Kneel.”
The guards shoved me down to my knees. I raised my gaze to meet Desmerada’s. She smiled, cruel joy on her face, as she took an ornate sword from one of her guards.
“For your crimes against my kingdom, I decree your death.” She moved to my side as rough hands pushed my head down, baring my neck for the blade.
I sensed her raising it high over her head. Closing my eyes, I envisioned Elena, her green eyes and golden hair giving me a calmness I never thought possible. She was my white queen.
The blade sliced the air, whispering death on the way to my neck.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Elena
I hurried through the empty hallways. Tripping over the long hems of Sanguine’s trousers, my disguise became a stumbling block. After I’d dispatched him in a screaming vortex of flame, the bed was an inferno. I’d raced into the dressing area and thrown on some of his clothes. They would at least give me a chance at sneaking into the great hall without attracting too much attention. I could do nothing for the fire and only hoped it wouldn’t rage beyond Sanguine’s room. But I didn’t have the time or inclination to worry about it.
Desmerada’s voice was in the air, and I followed the sound. I slowed my pace when I saw a crowd of vampires, both nobles and soldiers, hovering outside the massive doors to what must have been the great hall. They paid me no attention as I skirted them and darted inside. It was packed, thousands of vampires in standing room only. Some had climbed atop various banquet tables scattered around the room to see the spectacle.
At the center, atop a gilded platform, Paris stood in his cage. His back was to me as he faced Desmerada. She raised her glass in a toast, and the vampires around me echoed the words in response. I dove in, wending my way closer and closer to Paris. None of them seemed to care. They couldn’t rip their gazes away from Desmerada’s prize.
The hour was up. Faren was late.
Desmerada mounted the platform. I continued toward Paris and the queen, the vampires ever thicker the closer I got to the center of the room. Now I had to fight, pushing and elbowing my way along.
The guards forced Paris to kneel as Desmerada drew her sword. She raised it above her head for the killing blow. It was now or never. I jumped atop the nearest table to get a clearer view.
Desmerada swung the sword. I hurled a firebolt, the scorching ray burning through the air. It struck the queen square in the chest and hurled her backward before she could finish her stroke. The sword clanged to the ground as the crowd surged up around me. A multitude of hands pulled me down from my perch. I summoned two storms of fire and incinerated dozens of vampires in my radius. The ones outside my hex backed away, and the remaining vampires panicked and ran. I ignored them and turned back to Paris.