To Seduce An Assassin (The Omaja Series Book 2)(74)

The room inside was dark, barren but for a couple of bookcases that housed various tools and knives. The stink of rotted meat filled his nostrils, and his blood boiled that sweet Graciella would be held captive in such a vile, sickening place.

There were archways to his left and right, and he held his breath to focus his hearing. He picked up faint, muffled voices to the right. He ducked through that arch, flattened himself against the wall, and made his way down the long passageway.

The voices grew stronger, the sounds of men—or of some sort of creatures—shouting and growling in celebratory tones. Yavi descended another short staircase, then peered carefully around the corner.

It looked like the ceremony room Jiandra had described, a large room with rows of benches facing an altar. And what he saw on the altar filled him with mortification. Two hulking, nightmarishly corpse-like beings held Graciella between them, jeering with the gathered crowd of beasts who were raising their fists in the air, celebrating their capture of the terrified-looking, pale-faced girl.

“Uman! Uman!” they chanted, louder and louder.

The taller of the two creatures on the stage raised his fists, glorying in their adulation.

Uman? Yavi’s mind raced. He hadn’t gotten a good look at the bandit leader before Yajna had shot him at the camp a few weeks prior, but the man they’d slain certainly hadn’t looked like this unholy ghoul. Then Yavi noticed the creature beside Uman, the one holding Graciella, looked very familiar.

It was Terijin. Yavi recognized his grizzled shock of hair, his pointy chin, his hunched shoulders.

How can this be? Yavi had heard childhood tales of undead creatures who were called Vyrkune in Old Nandalan. They swore a pact with a demon before death, then became walking corpses for eternity, feeding on the raw flesh of animals and humans. Occasionally farmers would report slayings of their goats or cattle, finding a bloody mess with all the organs ripped out, and rumors of the Vyrkune would abound for weeks afterward.

Graciella suddenly tried to jerk her arm away from Terijin, stomping hard on his booted foot. He released her in surprise, but Uman caught her before she could flee.

“Not so fassst,” he hissed at her, then nuzzled her hair, causing Yavi’s skin to crawl.

Enough of this. While Uman was distracted with Graciella, Yavi crouched low and crept along the stone floor near the wall, circling around the back of the crowd of Vyrkune. He ducked behind a pillar near the stage. There was a sculpture of a claw-footed, winged lion on the side of the platform, and Yavi vaulted himself onto its back, drawing swords. When Uman looked up, Yavi leapt, driving both scimitars down into the thick armor covering Uman’s shoulder.

Uman screeched with an unholy sound as he stumbled away from Graciella and fell to his knees.

“Run!” Yavi shouted at her, readying his swords for another attack.

“Catch her!” Uman growled at Terijin. He struggled to his feet, holding his shoulder.

Graciella rushed down the steps of the platform, but Terijin chased her with lightning speed and caught her by the sleeve. He sank his claws into the tender flesh of her upper arm, and she cried out as he dragged her back up the steps to the altar, blood instantly soaking through the ripped sleeve of her dress.

“Attack the usurper!” Uman motioned at Yavi.

The crowd of Vyrkune glared at Yavi with their soulless black eyes and surged forward, baring their sharpened teeth. Yavi leapt off the platform and spun, swinging his swords in an arc, slicing through the chests of several of the creatures in front. They fell, and another wave came forward to receive the same treatment.

Yavi continued to attack, cutting down the Vyrkune soldiers until the entire lot of them lay immobile on the floor. He turned to face Uman, breathing hard. Yavi pointed a scimitar at him. “What does an abomination like you have to do with the rebellion?” he demanded. “Where is Thakur’s son?”

“You are looking at him, Usurper,” Uman grinned.

“You?”

Uman gave a little bow. “In the flesshhh,” he hissed, his laughter sounding more like a growl. “The flesh of a corpse, that is.”

“If you have a claim to the throne of Nandala, meet me on the battlefield to settle it like a man. Not by kidnapping and holding hostage an innocent girl.” Yavi took a step forward, sword raised.

“Terijin,” Uman ordered, still grinning at Yavi, “bite off her earlobe. The right one.”

Graciella sucked in a breath, grimacing as Terijin opened his jaw wide and swept her hair out of the way with his claws. He sank his teeth into her ear, and she screamed.

“No!” Yavi dropped his swords to the stone floor with a clatter and held up his hands. “Stop! Uman, just tell me what you want!”

Graciella whimpered, eyes shut tight.

Uman made a signal to halt Terijin. “It’s very simple, Zulfikar. You.”

“Me for her?” Yavi raised his hands. “Fine, done. Let her go and take me instead.” If you can.

“No, Yavi!” Graciella cried. Blood ran down her neck and over her collarbone from the foul creature’s bite. Yavi gritted his teeth, waiting for Uman’s answer.

“Hand over your swords,” Uman demanded.

Yavi scooped his scimitars off the floor and turned the handles toward Uman, never taking his eyes off Uman’s face.

“Lay them on the steps.”

Yavi moved forward cautiously to do as Uman asked.