Bright Blaze of Magic (Black Blade, #3)(22)
Claudia turned back around so that she was facing Victor again, then looked at Hiroshi. “It seems as though Victor and his Family aren’t as strong as they think they are. What do you say that we finally do something about them?”
Hiroshi nodded, knowing what she was really asking—that he unite with her and the Sinclairs against Victor and the rest of the Draconis.
“Agreed,” he said. “Victor has held sway over us for far too long.”
“I’m with you too.” Roberto Salazar stepped up beside the two of them, adding his Family’s support.
“Well, I am not,” another voice piped up. “I want no part of this nonsense and neither does anyone in my Family.”
Everyone turned to look at Nikolai Volkov, who backed up so that he was standing against one wall of the restaurant. His guards moved to follow him, and it was clear that they wouldn’t take part in any fight—either to help the Draconis or the other Families.
Victor glared at Nikolai. “Don’t be so stupid as to think that you can go back on our deal now. Not after our meeting last night. You want the other Families wiped out as badly as I do. You knew exactly what was going to happen here tonight, and you agreed to help me and my men.”
Nikolai shrugged. “And you promised me black blades for my guards when you don’t even have them for your own. The deal is off, as far as I’m concerned.”
“I’ll kill you for this,” Victor hissed.
Nikolai laughed. “Good luck with that.”
Nikolai jerked his head, and he and his guards started easing toward the back of the restaurant, away from the line of Draconi guards still blocking the front doors. Claudia, Hiroshi, and Roberto stood their ground, with their guards moving to flank them and form a united front.
Victor looked back and forth from Nikolai to Claudia and the heads of the other Families. After a second, his face twisted into a cruel, ugly expression, and cold, cold hate flared to life in his eyes, chilling me to the bone. His original plan might not have worked, but he’d come too far to back down now. He waved his hand at his guards, then stabbed his finger across the restaurant at all of his enemies.
“Attack!” Victor yelled. “Kill them! Kill them all!”
CHAPTER EIGHT
For a moment, everyone remained frozen in place, shocked by his harsh, brutal command.
“Attack!” Victor roared again. “Kill them all! Every last person who stands against me!”
At his continued urging, the Draconi guards yelled, snapped up their weapons, and charged forward into the crowd of people. None of them tried to turn their black blades on themselves, though. They’d already seen what a deadly disaster that had turned out to be for one of their own.
The Draconi guard who’d been watching me whipped around and raised his sword high, intending to bring it down on top of my head. But I was quicker than he was and I stepped up and punched him in the throat, making him gasp for air and stagger back. His weapon slid from his grasp and tumbled to the floor, and I darted forward and snatched it up before he could grab it again.
The cold burn of magic flooded my veins the second I touched the sword.
So this guard had a real black blade, although I had no idea what kind of magic it might contain. Strength from a copper crusher, most likely, or perhaps speed from a tree troll. But I wasn’t about to stab myself with the sword to find out. I wasn’t that desperate—yet.
Besides, just holding the weapon was enough to get my own transference power to kick in, and I felt myself growing stronger and stronger the longer I held the sword, almost as if the mere touch of my hand on the black blade was enough to pull the magic stored inside the bloodiron into my own body. Maybe it was, with my transference Talent.
But I didn’t have time to figure it out. In an instant, the tense quiet of the restaurant exploded into one loud, enormous fight. Tables and chairs flipped over, platters of food crashed to the floor, and glasses shattered as people dropped their drinks and stampeded every which way, trying to escape the Draconi guards and their slashing swords. Screams, shouts, and shrieks filled the air, along with blood.
So much blood.
Even though most of their weapons weren’t real black blades, the Draconi guards still had swords and daggers, and they pressed their advantage, cutting into every single person they could reach. Two of them realized that I’d disarmed one of their friends, and they engaged me, swinging their swords back and forth.
Left, right, left, left, right.
Thanks to the extra strength running through my veins, I parried their blows with ease, crashing my sword into theirs time and time again, then whipped around and unleashed my own attacks on them.
Right, left, right, right, left.
I cut one guard across the stomach, making him scream and stagger back, then whirled around and drove my sword through the chest of the second man. He collapsed when I pulled the weapon free from his body.
I turned around, looking for the next guard to battle. The Draconis had most people pinned up against the booths and walls, but there were a few folks who were fighting back, even though they had nothing to defend themselves with but their bare hands.
Like Devon.
He ducked one guard’s sword, stepped up, and plowed his fist into another man’s face, breaking his nose. That second guard yelped in pain, and Devon smoothly plucked the man’s sword out of his hand before whipping around and slicing it across the man’s stomach. That guard dropped to the floor screaming, and Devon whirled around, searching the restaurant.