A barbed dagger cut through the haze. Sitri narrowly leaped out of its path. Even with their vision obscured, the demons moved fast. Swirls of stone dust followed in their wake, and as quickly as I’d caught sightof them, they vanished. I bit my tongue, letting blood flood my mouth. The pain grounded me in my body. The taste reminded me of what I stood to lose.
Releasing my tongue from my teeth, I jerked forward, chasing after the tangle of blades, but stopped short as my foot connected with metal. Pain shot up my bad leg. I groaned, then looked down. I’d caught my foot on my chain’s anchor—but it was Sitri’s abandoned device that drew my eye.
He’d left a wooden box filled with paper-coated tubes, a bomb he hadn’t gotten to detonate. Its untouched wick hung in the air, inviting me to finish the job.
I dropped to my knees, slowing my breathing to limit how much dust I drew in. With all my strength, I struck my metal shackles against the ground. Sparks flew, but the wick didn’t catch. The clatter of gunfire and an incomprehensible shout warned me that the fight was escalating. Again and again, I bashed my wrists against the stone until at last, a flickering orange glow took root in the rope. I blew on it gently. Metal scraped stone somewhere behind me. The fire spread. Blood-red cinders spat from it as it burned. I rushed to my feet, pulling against the chain as I tried to escape the incoming blast.
Flames bloomed behind me. The air trembled, and combustion consumed the anchor. Rubble fell across the courtyard like hail, stinging against my skin. The shock wave displaced the dust, clearing the air, and cracked my iron tether. Now that I moved freely, my remaining bondage became a weapon.
Glancing around, I spotted Zephyr on the ground a few feet from the detonation site. He must have been closer than I’d realized. His serrated blades lay scattered on the stone, and with the legate groaning in pain, he wouldn’t reclaim them anytime soon. Both Vapula and Sitri reeled. They’d kept their footing and would recover far faster, but hadn’t managed to yet.
The Duke held a pistol of superior make. Seeing the state of thebattlefield, he holstered it and drew a savage weapon from its sheath. A curved saber, made of metal as black as night, whose entire length was studded with backward-facing barbs, thin and sharp enough to lance between the rings of Sitri’s armor. Impractical for a human, who would lack the strength to pull it free, but lethal in the hands of demons.
“This ends today, foolish Prince,” Vapula snarled. “You have been a thorn in my side for two centuries. I will much enjoy the moment your kingdom bows to mine!”
Sitri abandoned his fighting stance, stretching his arms as Zephyr struggled to balance on shaking feet. The Prince pointed a dagger and laughed. “If this is the best legate you have to succeed me, I don’t think it will be my kingdom that bows. He fights worse than Tempest and has only half the charm.”
It was an attempt to goad, to fan the flames of desire, and it worked. Bloodlust thickened in the air around his enemies, so heavy it threatened to choke out their reason.
Vapula tightened both hands on his sword. Zephyr collected one of his fallen blades. I locked my fingers between the links of my chain, and Sitri drew a second dagger from his belt.
When the demons sprang into action, I charged forward to meet them.
Vapula lunged at Sitri, the Duke’s sword spearing empty air as he darted past. By the time Vapula turned, the Prince had already engaged. Sitri lunged, dagger connecting with Zephyr’s cheek, reopening the wound he’d dealt back on his manor. The Prince moved quick as lightning, delivering well-timed blows that forced the legate backward, ever closer to the platform’s edge. Vapula was quick in his pursuit, only to halt when my feet slapped stone behind him.
He reeled around, sword aimed to slash across my chest. I barely raised my wrists in time. Metal scraped against metal, his weapon clashing against my shackles.
“Any last words?” Sitri asked.
In the corner of my vision, I could make out Zephyr, heels hanging over empty air at the edge of the cliff, Sitri’s dagger pressed to his chest.
“J-just a moment!” Zephyr cried. Then, his terrified wail pierced the air.
Vapula lunged, teeth bared, saber aimed at my shoulder. I tried to sidestep it, but wasn’t fast enough. Its tip tore thin tulle, splitting my skin with a sting, raising a crimson line where he grazed me—not a deep wound, but a wound nonetheless.
“Your woman bleeds, Sitri!” Vapula shouted as I ducked beneath his blade. “Come and get her before it’s too late!”
“I can handle myself,” I snarled through clenched teeth.
I gripped the chain and sought to raise it, only to be struck by a blow from the side. This time, it wasn’t Vapula’s.
Sitri crashed into me, pushing me out of the brawl. A slash aimed at my throat caught Sitri in the chest. A sharp jerk pierced his chain armor, sinking barbs into the padded silk below, making Sitri hiss in pain as Vapula unsteadied him.
When I hit the ground, the impact left me gasping, demons still dancing above. The shadows they cast drew my eye to a glittering silver blade—Zephyr’s remaining dagger, with its serrated edge, lying just beyond the battle. I looked up to see Vapula land another strike. His sword was too long, Sitri’s daggers too short to find gaps in the Duke’s armor. The more wounds he took, the sloppier his fighting became. It wouldn’t be long until Vapula overwhelmed him.
With one last glance at Zephyr’s abandoned dagger, I knew what I had to do. I dragged myself across the ground, careful to avoid stomping, booted feet. My bound hands closed around the weapon’s hilt. It felt light and lethal in my hands.
I stood. Vapula turned his back on me, dismissing me as a threat. It was Sitri he wanted; I could taste it in the air, the longing to end the Prince of Lust and Lies. I’d make that unyielding desire his downfall.
“I’ve waited two hundred years for this,” Vapula shouted. “I’ll end you myself if I have to, consequences be damned, and I’ll make your concubine watch as the light leaves your eyes!”
“Like hell you will,” I whispered under my breath.
I only had one chance to guide my strike true. Sitri’s dagger caught between the serrations of Vapula’s sword. A well-timed jerk disarmed the Prince. Vapula raised his saber, aiming for a lethal blow. With a deep breath, I clasped the dagger tight in my hands and charged.
There. His armor didn’t cover him there, just below his belt. Chain clanking, feet slapping stone, I sprinted for Vapula. The sound served as a warning and stopped his sword inches from Sitri’s throat. The Duke whipped around to face me. His blade found a new target. We lunged at one another, fangs bared, weapons gleaming, wills steeled.
In an instant, blood stained the battlefield.
