Page 27

My name caught in her throat. As I cleared the doorway, the scrape of a blade cut through the room.

He had her pinned to the floor, a knife in his right hand. Her hands were locked around his wrist, shaking as he bore down on her with his entire weight. His other hand pressed her shoulder flat against the stone.

The blade was trapped between their straining hands, trembling inches above her chest. She held the iron back with everything she had. But her grip was slipping, and the dagger was much too close.

I grabbed his forearm. I twisted his wrist until the joints popped. His fingers spasmed open, and the blade clattered to the floor. With my other hand, I seized the collar of his tunic and tore him off her, hurling him across the room. He hit the shelves, bringing a rain of glass down with him.

Thalia made a ragged sound, gasping for air.

I fell to my knees beside her. I ran my hands over her shoulders, her arms, her chest. The room smelled of sweat and crushed herbs, and I couldn’t focus on anything beyond making sure she was safe.

“Thalia, where did he hurt you? Tell me where you’re hurt.”

“I’m not really hurt.” She choked on a breath, her fingers digging into my sleeves. “Maybe a little bruised. But the Endless Forests kept me safe.”

Of course. Her shrine-maiden magic must have given her strength she normally lacked. If not for that, he would have killed her.

Her magic burned strong beneath my hands. The brutal impact had driven the breath from her body, and she was still shaking. She leaned heavily into my chest. I wrapped my arms around her and held her close as she fought to catch her breath.

Glass crunched behind us. “He is coming for the knife,” one of my snakes hissed. “Beside your foot.”

I surged to my feet and pinned the dagger beneath my boot. My wife was trembling behind me, bruised and gasping. And even now, he was dragging himself through the broken glass for another chance to carve into her.

“Stay here,” I told her.

I lunged at him. I caught his wrist and drove him hard into the stone floor. The bones snapped in my grip. He tried to tear his arm free, but I held on. Every thrashing jerk of his body dragged the splintered wrist against my hold.

I let him do it. I listened to Thalia’s ragged breathing behind me, catching the sharp, sour scent of her terror. A dark, vicious need to destroy him broke the last of my restraint.

Snarling, I hauled him upright by his ruined arm. He screamed as I slammed his spine against the wall. “She was healing you. You begged for her help, and she gave it to you.”

He coughed, spraying warm blood across my collar. I let his arm drop and pinned him to the wall with my forearm against his throat. His uninjured hand tore at my coat.

He had let her hold the cup for him. He opened his mouth, swallowed the water, and waited until she was close enough to attack. He used the strength she gave him to throw her onto the stones.

I felt like an idiot. He must have taken some kind of poison to trick her, to trick me. Enough to warrant care without crippling his attack. I should have seen straight through it. I should have protected her better. I wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

His fingers clawed at my neck. I seized that hand and flattened it against the wall. He wrenched his arm, trying to close his fist against my grip.

I bent his fingers backward until they broke beneath my palm. His knees buckled, but I held him suspended by his throat. “Please,” he gasped, blood bubbling on his split lips. “Have mercy, I beg you—”

I squeezed the broken joints. His plea gave way to a hoarse, desperate shriek. He convulsed, urine soaking his trousers, the stink of it rising through the smell of blood. I released his broken hand and drew my arm back. I remembered Thalia struggling on the floor, her strength failing under his weight, and I drove my fist forward.

His ribs gave way with a satisfying crack. His body jolted, and the scream he tried to force out broke into a thin, wet wheeze.

“Eryx. That’s enough.” Thalia’s hand closed over my wrist. “No more.”

I looked over my shoulder so sharply the man groaned as my weight shifted against his throat. She was standing right behind me. Safe, but too close to the assassin.

“Don’t get any closer, Thalia.”

“I’m as close as I need to be,” she replied. Her fingers slid down to my wrist, her touch warm against my gloves. “I’m here. He can’t hurt me now. Let it end.”

I didn’t even bother looking at him anymore. My serpents struck. Their weight pulled against my scalp as they fastened onto his exposed neck. His heels beat the wall. I held him fast through the last frantic struggle, enjoying his strangled sounds.

When his heart finally gave out, I let go. The body crumpled to the stones.

I turned fully toward my wife. Her voice shook, but her hand stayed firm on my wrist. I heard the steady rhythm of her breathing. One of my serpents leaned from my collar, drawn by the sudden, flushed heat of her skin. It rested its head against her cheek.