Page 39 of The Night Runs Red

He attempted to grab the back of my neck, but I ducked. My fist connected with his stomach, and I felt a rush of adrenaline as his breath left his lungs. “You bitch,” he wheezed. I didn’t stay around to find out what else he had to say, pushing through the crowd. I felt the caress of their hands, the way they groped at my body senselessly.

Gods, gods, gods, I was stupid. Why did I leave my aunt? Why didn’t I listen when I was told to stay put?

“Grab her!” Von snarled from behind. I almost reached the door when someone reached my waist and jerked me backward.

I cried out when a hand clamped over my mouth. I bit down on its fingers, kicking and hitting their arms. They cursed, but gripped me tighter. “Stop struggling,” a voice commanded.

As my body went limp, I had the fleeting realization there would be no getting out of there unscathed. “What is this magic?” I asked as they laid me down on the top of a table. There was no need to bind my wrists or ankles; no matter what I tried, I could not move.

Von laughed. “I’m surprised you do not know the gifts that vampyres possess, Mrs. D’Arcy. You are, after all, married to one of the most powerful. I would imagine his compulsion would put Finnick’s to shame.”

Compulsion? I hadn’t known that was real. My father cautioned me as a child, but most of the things he’d taught me about vampyres were little more than myths to scare young kids into behaving. From what I recalled, compulsion ensured vampyres could ask anything of anyone and receive it. They could order someone to do the worst things imaginable, and there would be no choice but to obey.

Von’s hand drifted across my chest, and I screamed, praying to the gods for a miracle. “I swear I will kill you myself if Rion doesn’t do it before I can get my hands on you, you sick bastard.”

He clicked his tongue against his teeth. “You have such a mouth on you. I bet your husband loves that,” he said, placing his thumb against my lip. I bit it hard, drawing blood.

The mayor grasped my throat, squeezing hard so I couldn’t breathe. I tried to break the spell, but my limbs felt like they were held down by immense weight. No matter what I did, I couldn’t move. “It’s interesting, isn’t it? I’ve heard things about Rion D’Arcy, rumors one might say, about how he lost his ability to love long ago. But you seem to be proving them wrong.”

The door burst open, letting in a stream of muted light. I could make out the silhouette of two figures before chaos descended. “Get your fucking hands off my wife.”

Rion.

I choked back a sob of relief as I saw his face. Men fled the room, unable to escape Rion’sradius of terror quickly enough. Some made it—those who had shown no interest in using me for entertainment. The door clicked shut behind them as soon as the last man was out. Rion removed his jacket and rolled his shirt sleeves to the elbow before leaping toward his nearest victim. His fangs lengthened, nearly gleaming in the low light as he bit into the man's neck and ripped his head from his body before turning toward another and plunging his hand through their chest. Both bodies dropped, landing in pools of their own blood.

My uncle stepped into view, brandishing a silver pistol. He pointed it at the vampyre Von had called Finnick. “Is this your handiwork?”

Finnick swallowed, unable to respond before my uncle put a bullet in his head. As soon as the vampyre hit the floor, I felt the weight of his compulsion lift, and I scrambled off the table. My uncle hugged me tight, and I closed my eyes against the thought of what could have happened. If they’d been only a moment later… But I couldn’t think like that.

As I peeked around my uncle’s arm, I saw Rion’s shirt splattered in blood. Bodies lay littered at his feet, his breath coming in hard, ragged pants. He hadn’t even used a weapon, choosing to decimate these men with his bare hands.

Von was the only man still living. He’d curled himself into the corner of the room, where the stench of piss increased as we got closer.

Rion hadn’t looked at me since he’d seen I was safe with my uncle. I wasn’t sure if he was avoiding my reaction to the carnage he had wrought, or if he was so furious he physically couldn’t.

He stared down at Von, who was mumbling prayers to himself. “Please, please, please,” he begged. “I didn’t mean anything by it. Nothing was going to happen. It was a joke!”

Rion’s hand whipped out and caught Von by the throat, lifting him from the ground. “Would you like to do the honors, love?” he asked, offering the mayor’s body to me.

My uncle gripped me tighter. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “Do not dirty her hands, especially not after what he did to her.”

“She can decide for herself.” My husband finally looked at me, and my chest ached from the force of it. His eyes were wholly silver, shining with malice and the promise of retribution. But he had ceded his revenge to me, so I could be the reaper of this pitiful man’s life if I so desired.

I held out my hand for my uncle’s gun. “No,” he said once more. “No, I will do this for you if you feel it must be done, but I cannot let you feel the weight of taking a life.”

“This man would have raped me. He would have passed me around to each person in this room so they could have their fill. And when they were done, he would have delivered me back to Rion’s doorstep, or your doorstep, broken and beaten.” My anger rose at the injustice of it all. How many times had this happened before? How many other women had he abused, defiled, and gotten away with it? “I will gladly be his end. I understand exactly how it feels to be helpless in a room with men who look at you and see only one thing.”

My uncle looked at me with tears in his eyes, but placed the weapon in my waiting palm. Even if he didn’t want that burden for me, he understood.

I didn’t hesitate, walking toward the man cowering on the floor. He cried relentlessly, but I felt no mercy. Instead, a lethal calm washed over me as I raised the gun to his head and fired a single shot.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

I’d thrown up all over Von’s body as soon as I’d pulled the trigger.

Rion called a crew to clean up the bodies before he and my uncle broke down the door. Within fifteen minutes, they’d removed the remains and disposed of them. I didn’t ask any questions because, frankly, I didn’t want to know.

The stench of blood was overwhelming. It coated every surface, seeping into the fabric of my gown. I looked down and scowled. “Why do you ruin my dress every time we go out?”

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