A Clash of Storms (A Shade of Vampire #50)(18)

Aida





Azazel had been on the terrace for over ten minutes, pacing around, occasionally glaring at us. He was fuming, his eyes flickering green as he slithered back and forth, his fingers playing with his snake medallion.

He stopped in front of my bubble, his eyes two vicious slits.

“What are you all so calm for?” he hissed. “I see none of you are willing to tell me about your visions yet!”

“Oh, that’s why you’re here,” I replied with fake surprise. “Why didn’t you say something? I thought you just came up here for a breath of fresh air and were treating us like common garden décor!”

“You think you’re so smart, don’t you, little Oracle?” Azazel sneered, his lips peeling back and revealing his long, sharp fangs.

“I’m just saying, a little communication goes a long way,” I replied with a shrug.

I was feeling brave, despite the dread his presence injected into my veins. His days were numbered—I could feel it in my bones. One way or another, his reign of terror was coming to an end. He couldn’t afford to kill us, either, and I knew my friends and our allies would be here soon. All we had to do was hold out, and if we could annoy him into making mistakes in the meantime, even better.

Phoenix and Vita were equally calm, watching him quietly.

I heard Abrille moan behind us. I looked over my shoulder and found her conscious, her white eyes open, the black runes on her body still as she listened to us. It was the first time we’d seen her awake since we’d been brought up to the platform, so we hadn’t had the opportunity to chat.

I’d shouted at her, banged my fists against the glass, hoping I’d wake her up, but she’d been unconscious and unresponsive. Whatever that fluid was doing to her, she’d been under its effects for so long that she was almost constantly knocked out.

“I could easily make you tell me,” Azazel replied, shifting his focus to Vita, who didn’t seem phased, despite the glimmer in her turquoise eyes.

“And do what, torture Bijarki?” she said firmly. “Go ahead. He’s made his peace. He’s a fighter, unlike you. He’s always ready for the worst, while you get cocky and think you’re unbeatable. The mighty always fall the hardest!”

She was nowhere near comfortable with the idea of Bijarki getting tortured—on the contrary. But I knew her well enough to understand that she’d grown tired of his threats and was aware that the alliance would soon be here. It was all about buying some time and keeping him busy and angry enough to not think twice before he did or said something that might eventually work against him. No creature was impervious to the clouded judgment inflicted by rage.

“I am unbeatable!” Azazel snarled, pointing a furious finger at her. “I will peel the skin off him and all your friends until you tell me everything I need to know!”

“You don’t get it, do you?” Phoenix chimed in. “It’s over, Azazel. You can do whatever you want to us; it doesn’t matter. You will die in the end. There will be no glory for you.”

Azazel stilled, staring at Phoenix for a minute before he scoffed and circled round to Abrille’s sphere. We turned to see what he would do next. I froze as he rammed his fist through the glass, shattering the bubble Abrille floated in and grabbing her by the throat.

The clear liquid splashed all over the black stone floor, spreading outward and spilling over the edge. Abrille squirmed and whimpered, struggling to breathe as Azazel clutched her throat tight enough to nearly crush her windpipe.

“Stop it!” Phoenix growled, and punched at the glass in front of him. “Let her go!”

Azazel bellowed mockingly, while Abrille’s face lost color, her lips slowly turning purple.

“You’re killing her!” I cried out. “I thought you valued your Oracles!”

“What good is an Oracle that won’t tell me the future?” Azazel replied through gritted teeth. “I have three perfectly functional Oracles who refuse to cooperate—and, on top of that, have the audacity to belittle me as if there will be no consequences for their unruly behavior! What in the world am I going to do with an Oracle like Abrille, who is not only weak and nearly powerless, but has taken after you three and refused to assist me further? Do you think I’m just going to let you trample all over my honor? You must be joking!”

“You abandoned your honor when you started killing your own kind out of greed, you bastard!” Vita kicked and punched at the glass, an angry vein throbbing in her temple.

Abrille was too weak to fight him anymore. Her breathing seemed to slow, her arms and legs going limp. Azazel held her suspended a couple of feet above the floor, his long fingers digging deeper into her throat.

“Let her go!” I shouted, my blood boiling. I fought off my horror at the sight of Abrille losing consciousness in his grip.

“You are quite the coward for going after defenseless creatures like that,” a deep, familiar voice suddenly boomed from across the platform.

I froze, looking toward the source of the voice.

Draven stood on the edge of the platform, his hands clasped behind his back and a half-smile giving him an air of confidence that hit me like a breath of fresh air.

Azazel’s cold gaze shot in his direction, and he dropped Abrille. The Nevertide Oracle fell hard on the floor, wheezing and coughing as she struggled to breathe again.