Page 46 of Queen Takes Blood
His jaw flexed, the muscles twitching in his cheek. I could almost feel his indignance in having to kneel beside me, subjecting himself to this test.
“Great Goddess, we honor you this night. I am Tlacel Zaniyah, son of Citla Zaniyah, daughter of Coatlicue, Mother of the Gods.”
Bowing his head, he leaned forward, bracing his palms on the floor, directly beneath the statue’s outstretched right hand. I closed my eyes and reached for Itztli’s bond. I still couldn’t feel him but I whispered,:I love you, brother. Itzcoatl is my sire. I will see him dead.:
Then I bowed my head beneath the statue’s other hand.
Heart pounding, I strained to hear anything that would indicate what would happen next. I could hear the man’s heavy pant beside me. Heat rolled off his body, his scent thick and sharp with fear. He’d done this before and survived. I would survive it too.
A crash behind us made me quiver, every muscle braced for battle. My fingers dug into a faint seam between stones as I fought the urge to unsheathe my knife. I turned my head enough to see that a massive stone now blocked the doorway back to the tunnel. My heart leaped into a frantic gallop, thumping against my ribcage. Trapped. Deep in the earth in some inaccessible realm of the goddess.
Something heavy and hard clubbed me in the head. Lightning cracked through my vision, my temple exploding in pain. The blow grazed down my forehead toward my ear rather than hitting me directly on the back of the skull. Dazed, I wasn’t sure if turning my head had saved me—or killed me. Crushed. Weight against my head. My shoulders. Back. Pinning me to the floor.
A fresh layer of wet, sticky web dropped down over my face. Filling my mouth. Blocking my nostrils. Sucking into my body with every frantic breath. Wheezing, fighting to breathe.
Then Itzcoatl began to scream, a deep bellow of agony that went on and on and on.
24
ITZTLI
Istared at the creature who’d sired me. This wasn’t a man, a warrior, not even a queen’s Blood. Only a monster, so engrossed in torturing this poor human that he ignored me completely. She’d thankfully passed out, so at least she was no longer aware. Though that made it easier for him to begin making the incisions up the inner curve of her legs.
In the distance, I heard the faint murmur of voices, likely the other two Blood returning. Which meant Tlacel knew who his sire was and was headed toward the queen. He’d need help against such a powerful foe, assuming I could even find a way to reach him.
Zuma lifted his head from his work. “Do you feel it?”
I started to shake my head but he pointed the obsidian blade, wet with blood, at my chest.
“Open the door, lad. It’s there, hidden in the darkness of your soul. Let it out to play.”
At his words, something swelled inside me. My chest expanded as if I’d taken a deep inhale, deeper still, filling my lungs beyond normal capacity. My ribcage ached, my heart straining to beat against the fullness inside my chest.
“Look where you fear to see,” he whispered. “It’s there. It’s always there. Peering back at you.”
Pain sliced through me sharply enough I sucked in a harsh breath. Razor-sharp claws scraped inside me, tearing at the bounds of my body. Something thrashed inside me, rending my organs. I staggered to my feet, arms clenched around my midsection. Trying to hold myself together.
“Impossible,” I panted. “No queen has called me.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “As I said before, lad, you’ve never seen anything as ancient and powerful as Teotihuacan magic. You inherited Xipe Totec in your blood, regardless of whatever Zaniyah magic you might have. When I kill you, I’m going to pull that power back inside me where it belongs. I’ll be even more powerful.”
My bones felt brittle and weak, as if a sudden movement would shatter me open and release the monster threatening to crawl out of my ribcage. Breathing shallowly, I hunched over, letting my hair fall down across my face. Shielding me while I assessed my enemy and plotted the best way to defeat him.
Slowly, he straightened, standing over the bleeding woman. He still needed to make the cut up her midsection but then he’d be able to peel her skin away. I didn’t know if she could survive the wounds she already bore, but if I had any hope of saving her, I needed to do it now. Especially before the other Blood arrived.
He’d want pain and blood—which would only make him stronger, and he was already Blood. I had to assume he’d be difficult to kill, so I needed to incapacitate him with one blow. The knife I carried was too short to remove his head. Besides, he expected me to attack with my only weapon. He’d be able to counter it easily. He didn’t look like a formidable Blood but I had to assume he had skills and power beyond my own. He had too many centuries of service to a queen to not be more powerful than me.
It went against every bone in my body but I allowed my shoulders to hunch, as if the pain was too great for me to bear. Even though I would allow every single bone in my body to shatter if that meant I gained Mama any peace in retribution. I even fell down on one knee, drooping forward to brace myself on my left hand. My right arm curled around my stomach. The knife untouched on my hip.
“No,” I gritted out harshly. “Never.”
The reek of rotting flesh floated closer. His bare feet stepped into my line of sight, the tattered hem of his trousers. Droplets of blood splattered his legs. Even now, the smell of his blood made my fangs ache with hunger. Though I’d never touch one foul drop of his tainted blood, even if that meant I would wither and die.
Drawing in his scent, I allowed the trail of droplets on the air to guide me. I shoved my right hand up into his side, digging my fingers into the wound the human had made in her struggles. Twisting my wrist up, jamming my hand deeper into his chest cavity. The dark glitter of obsidian came down toward my chest. My heart an easy target for his blade.
I seized his pounding heart in my hand and twisted myself to the side, throwing my weight backward. His blade cut deeply across my left shoulder, but my bodyweight and momentum was enough to drag his still beating organ out of his chest.
Spinning in midair, I rolled toward the fire pit, tossed his heart onto the flames, and regained my feet. Knife in hand, I braced for his attack. With my blood dripping down my arm, all my senses vibrated with intensity. The red glow of his blood, a darker stain of pain and suffering that clouded the air like ink spilled into water. The human’s weak pulse, the faint rise of her chest. The scent of the other two Blood as they neared the palace, telling me exactly who Tlacel’s sire was by Itzcoatl’s absence.
