I lower my face closer to Eloise’s, nothing but the barrier between us. I bare the back of my neck to Lazarus. It will be easier if he severs my spine with one quick blow.
“Don’t be a fool,” Marabella says, suddenly beside us.
I glance up to find her hand on Lazarus’s wrist, keeping him from delivering the killing blow.
“Have mercy,” I say to her. “I cannot bear to live without her.”
But Marabella’s eyes are focused on Eloise, her slightly open mouth set within a drawn face as if she’s bet on a horse she believes is about to break from the pack and cross the finish. I can’t make sense of the expression. Marabella is no fool.
“What secrets have you kept from me?” I grit out.
Her gaze drops to mine. “Do you think we’d leave the future of Night Haven in the hands of a human?”
I do a double take when I swear I see one of Eloise’s fingers twitch.
“What have you done?” I pound on the dome again, terrified that Eloise is dead. Terrified that she’s not.
Valeska continues to leap for the crown, now using the wall of the dome to help her.
She’s distracted.
She does not see Eloise’s leg straighten or her arm bend or her eyes blink.
She does not see her fingers slip around the hilt of her dagger.
She does not see my mate sit up.
“All she needed was a vampire to kill her to complete the turning,” Marabella whispers.
Eloise’s lips peel back from her fangs.
43
Kingdom Come
ELOISE
I must have passed out after I stabbed Valeska because I wake from a dreamless sleep to find myself bent uncomfortably on the stone, my daggers scattered to my right and left. I experiment with moving my limbs, straightening the leg that’s bent under me and curling one arm. Ah, that’s better. Quickly I assess my injuries, cracking my neck and testing the movement of my limbs. I blink and blink again. My vision adjusts to the lighting in the room. It’s so much brighter now. I can’t figure out why. The moon is as full as before above the silo. It looks no bigger, but it beams like a floodlight through the dome.
So beautiful.
The sound of feet hitting stone brings me back into the moment. I sit up. Valeska is jumping for the queen’s crown, but I’ve injured her enough that she’s struggling. Her fingertips just brush the gold base, but it remains stubbornly out of her reach. I lean over and wrap my hand around one of my daggers. As quietly as possible, I climb to my feet.
Miraculously, I feel good. Healed.
I creep over to my second dagger. Pick it up. The crowd has started to murmur. Some of them are even trying to alert Valeska that I’m awake. She doesn’t notice. She grunts as she again tries to catapult her weakened body toward the crown. She’s so close. I don’t have much time to stop her.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Phantom, his glowing green eyes trained on me. My body feels different, almost buoyant, but my mouth hurts. I rub the side of my jaw and then over my lips. Yep, my teeth hurt. Hurt like hell. But I narrow my focus back on Valeska. If I don’t take her out, I’ll have a lot more to worry about than some dental work.
Steadying myself, I rush Valeska from behind with unprecedented speed. This time I go straight for her throat. At the last second, she whirls to face me, her gaze widening as I smack into her. Oddly, she doesn’t even try to fight me. Her entire body goes slack. She simply gives up.
“I am forsaken,” she says through dry, pale lips.
I clutch the top of her head and slit her throat. Blood drenches my arms, my torso. It splashes over my boots. I don’t stop there. Cassius taught me too well for that. I press harder, completely severing her head from her body. I hold it before me for a moment, staring into Valeska’s lightless, dead eyes as her body flops to the stone. There’s a chiff, and then the head and the body go up in spontaneous flames. I drop her head on the pyre and back up a step from her remains. Seconds later, she’s ash.
I sheathe my daggers and brush my hands together, only narrowly aware that the silo is wild with unrest. But I haven’t finished this challenge yet. I pivot to face the two crowns, still hovering about six feet above my head. I don’t know how I’m going to reach either of them, especially if Valeska couldn’t do it, but I have to try. Taking a few running steps, I leap for the one Damien promised me, the one that looks like it was carved from black diamonds. Not his mother’s crown, but the one that pairs with his own. The magic of the challenge must be lifting me, because I easily snag it out of the air. I land softly with a proud smile stretching my mouth.
On impulse, I turn to face the box and Damien standing behind it. Our eyes meet and hold. His are red, his hair ruffled, but his smile is true as I lift the crown and place it atop my head. The silo goes eerily quiet as the smoky surface of the rectangular mirror clears and Eloise Harcourt scrawls across the silver.
