I didn’t hesitate. I wasn’t faster than Raphael. I knew that. But Raphael had just assaulted a centuries-old vampire, and that fight was far from over.
And I was desperate.
I turned on my heel and sprinted for the ledge. In a leap, I jumped to the edge of the balcony and launched myself over.
It was a lot easier to jump off a great height when certain death is at your heels.
I landed with a thud, the impact of my shoes against the sandstone reverberating through my body. I took half a second—less—to kick away the impractical shoes and burst into a run.
I’d never run full out like this before. Never run like a vampire, so fast my surroundings blurred.
This time, I did. There was no time to think, no time to process. Just adrenaline barking in my veins—He’ll kill you, he’ll kill you, he’ll kill you.
He knows you’re his enemy.
I wove through the palace grounds as fast as I could, then through the markets. My long skirts caught on a vendor’s cart and I tore them off, leaving the luxurious fabric floating in the wind. People shouted as I shoved by. There was no time to care. My bare feet pounded into the sandstone over and over, a frantic drumbeat.
The city disappeared behind me. I took a sharp turn away from the main road and headed for the woods, hoping that would better camouflage me.
I ran for miles. Whatever the limits were of a vampire’s strength, I found them and pushed back.
This is how you survive. You knew he would find out. You can’t let him catch you.
When they catch you, you die.
Had I gone far enough to lose Raphael? I leaned against a tree, wiping away the sheen of sweat that poured over me. My once nicely combed hair was now filled with leaves and plastered to my head. Running farther without a plan didn’t make sense. I’d started north, at least. That would take me to the Witch Kingdom. It was the only logical place to go. The grimoire was still in Damerel, but I didn’t let myself mourn the loss.
There was no time. Not when I was fleeing for my life.
In my wildest fantasies, I’d wondered if there could be another way. A way where I told Raphael. But while he might have forgiven my last betrayal, this one—that I was the witch with the power to control vampires, the witch he hunted—besotted or not, jealous or not, he would kill me.
It was dark in the forest, the canopy blocking out much of the moonlight. I could still see, though.
Which meant Raphael would be able to as well.
Would Julian keep him busy? I didn’t doubt Raphael would eventually get away. Would he find me? I checked my mental shields, ensuring all my own emotions were locked down.
Only then did I even remember the fledgling bond. I hadn’t felt its pain once since I’d run.
I scoffed. Hilarious. It had eased in the nick of time because I’d yielded to Raphael.
“Samara?”
I slammed my mouth shut. Raphael.
He was close. I hadn’t heard him behind me once. Shit.
“Come out, Samara. We can talk.”
I listened more closely. He was still a distance away by the sound of it. Half a mile? Maybe less, if the foliage was muffling the sounds.
Did I flee, or did I stay here and hope he didn’t see me?
I slipped the cursed copper blade from my thigh, silent as death.
Could I kill Raphael? No. Maybe not even to save myself.
But I could fight like all hells to get away. And if Lixa was generous, I’d manage it.
