Page 7 of Last Note
“Elle te veut mort au matin. Ne rend pas les choses plus difficiles qu'elle ne le sont déja.” His voice is soft, like a cold, steel blade splitting the skin of your neck. “No target survives. You are outnumbered.”
“She wants you dead by morning. Don’t make it harder than it needs to be.”It gives me a pause when I hear that. She? Last time I checked, females were way down the line for ascending the throne. Maybe Lucien has a point wanting to keep one as a pet. By the sound of it, we have a lot of catching up to do when it comes to matters of court. My court. Rage bubbles in my veins.
“Do you talk them to death so they slit their own throats, or will we fight?”Moël sends chills down my spine with the casual way he speaks. If I know anything about my youngest brother, that is he is most dangerous when he has a smile.
Like the one playing on his lips right now.
“We will fight.” Inclining his head slightly, the leader of the assassins moves back in the shadows, blending in with the rest.
Everything after that is a blur of steel blades, fangs, and claws coming from all sides. Only the singing sound of metal slicing the air and the clashing of swords and daggers disturbs the night. My hand shoots out to the side, catching the glinting star heading for Lucien’s back. With a flick of my wrist, I send it back in the mist, and the answering grunt is music to my ears when it finds a target.
A burning on my arm sends me twisting to my right, avoiding the second dagger that was going to lodge itself in my chest if I was a second slower. Dropping my own weapon, I reach inside the mist, my fingers tightening around a forearm I cannot see, and I jerk the assassin out of it. His widening eyes is all the gratification I allow myself before I separate his head from the shoulders, my remaining dagger passing like a hot knife through butter, paring his skin with a satisfying crunch of sliced bone. His blood sprays my face, my shirt drenching and warming my skin. Licking my lips, I shiver from the potent life fluid that I haven’t tasted in such a long time.
Hunger roars in my ears.
“Let’s end this.” My words are soft, but I feel the answering thrum in my body from my brothers.
Plowing through the mist, ignoring the cuts and rips on my skin where they get a lucky hit, I clear out the way in front of me. Standing in the middle of decapitated bodies, the heads rolled away with incredulous expressions staring at the dark sky, I watch my brothers. With graceful movements, it’s like watching a dance when they level everything around them.
We are made for this. Predators in their prime. We have not been created to mix and mingle with humans, not when their fragile bodies and minds are so unaware of the danger standing beside them.
You didn’t think so a minute ago when you watched the girl.The reminder in my head brings out her face as if she’s standing in front of me. Round eyes, creamy skin, and ebony hair falling like a waterfall around her shoulders. Red lips parted and inviting, while her heart was drumming a staccato in her chest, making my fangs throb in my gums to sink them in her neck and drink her in until she becomes a part of me. The urge is so strong, and her scent of red, blooming roses fills my nostrils, consuming me so much that I don’t see the dagger coming before its firmly rooted between my ribs.
“You should’ve listened to me,” the leader of the assassins purrs in my ear, his hot breath pebbling my skin in disgust.
Striking like a snake, I grab the wrist of his hand, still gripping the blade that he is twisting inside me. Yanking him closer, I bring his face nose to nose with mine. Those empty black pools widen for a second, no wonder displaying more emotion than he has in his entire existence. Horror fills his eyes when I grin at him, my fangs growing more prominent, the reflection of my face clear as day in their depths.
“And you should’ve asked more questions before accepting a hit, my little friend.”
Acceptance of his fate passes through his gaze, and he nods. The respect he shows when he comes face to face with someone deadlier than he stays my hand. Lucien wanted a plaything, after all. I reason with myself, unwilling to admit I have become merciful in the time I’ve spent away from my kind. Sinking my fangs in his neck, I drink my fill until he is barely holding on to a thread of his life. With great reluctance, I pull away, dropping him at my feet. My brothers are standing a few feet away, watching me warily.
“You’re getting old.” Moël chuckles pointing at the dagger sticking out from my side.
“I got distracted.” Waving off his concern, hidden behind his teasing remark, I pull the offending object out and twirl it in my hand.
“I wonder why?” Lucien drawls. “Could it be that the great Étienne can’t get a simple human female out of his head?”
My heart thumps hard against my chest.
“Let him be, Lucien.” Moël throws a punch at Lucien’s shoulder, sending him staggering sideways. “I keep thinking that damn cat has something to do with this.”
“Not this again.” Lucien groans as if pained, but I watch my younger brother intently.
“How so?” I can tell he is reluctant, but with one sideways glance at Lucien, he straightens his shoulders.
“Until that damn creature showed up out of nowhere, we didn’t get one assassin to find us.” Glaring at Lucien, he dares him to contradict him. “Not one! For decades we’ve been here with no one the wiser. The cat shows up, gets through our wards, steals our things, and we find ourselves in this predicament more often than not. It’s somehow connected, I can feel it.”
“So we kill the fucking cat,” Lucien snarls. “Problem solved.”
“No.” His head snaps in my direction at my whispered word. Moël watches me, intrigued, but doesn’t say a word. “We will follow the creature and see where it leads us.” Nodding at my youngest brother in gratitude for his insight, I sigh. “If Moël is right, we might find more answers there than in all our time hiding like cowards.”
“Maybe it’ll be better to patch you up first,” Lucien growls, insulted by me calling us cowards. “You’re bleeding all over the place. If we missed any, you'd leave them a trail.”
Looking down at myself, I frown. He is right. I have been hurt more than I thought. Ripping my shirt, I twist it around the gaping wound to stop the blood from pumping in steady spurts. It should hold until we get out of here.
“This one is still alive. We will bring him with us.” Tilting my chin at the crumpled assassin at my feet, I look around us. “One of us will have to stay until the bodies disintegrate. We don’t need humans learning of our existence.”
“I’ll stay, and I’ll bring this scum with me.” Moël strides forward and, grabbing the assassin by the arm, flings him over his shoulder.
