A Clash of Storms (A Shade of Vampire #50)(33)

I glanced back and noticed Jovi’s cheeks flush slightly as he gave the young Druid a sideways glance. “You made it hard not to look with all the running! Not my fault, dude!”

“Keep telling yourself that.” Patrik smirked as he ran past them and reached my side.

At least our morale was still high, our spirits feisty, and our weapons eager to draw Azazel’s blood. A couple more floors and we’d finally reach the platform. We’d finally face off with our mortal enemy, the only creature left standing in the way of our freedom.





Vita





I could hear the war unraveling below. We could all hear it. We could see the black smoke billowing, Destroyers flying around frantically before descending to defend the castle against the allied armies. The entire building tremored from the explosions, our glass spheres swinging on their hooks.

Aida was in touch with Jovi and Serena through Telluris. Her eyes darted around the terrace, while Phoenix kept tossing and turning, visibly frustrated by his imprisonment.

“They’re on their way up,” Aida said, hope lighting her up. “This is it, guys!”

“Great,” I muttered. “If I could get out of here and get these stupid cuffs off so I could help, that would be even better…”

We all stilled when we heard Azazel coming up, cursing under his breath. He slithered across the terrace. Rage burned in his yellow eyes, and he sneered as he reached our bubbles.

“I will kill each of you. Slowly. I will take my time, I promise you that,” he said, his tone glazed in ice.

I would’ve been more comfortable with the snarky version of him, snarling, shouting and kicking. He was too calm, too cold for what was going on outside Luceria. His demeanor wasn’t that of a defeated overlord, but rather one who kept his best tricks up his sleeve, who was still waiting to release them.

“Vita, sweetheart,” he added, cocking his head to one side as he squinted at me. “This is your last chance to tell me what the future holds. My contingency plan is top notch, but I cannot keep an Oracle that refuses to cooperate, darling. You’re either in or you’re dead.”

“Right,” I scoffed. “As if that’ll make me talk.”

He smirked, sending chills down my spine.

“Hm. Okay then, you want to do this the hard way,” he replied.

A second went by before his arm shot out, crashing through the glass sphere with a bright green spark. He grabbed me by the throat and pulled me out, his fingers pressing hard against my windpipe. I instinctively brought my hands up, clawing away at his arm and drawing blood in a desperate attempt to release myself. I heard the water from my bubble splash upon the stone floor and Phoenix and Aida shouting and knocking against their spheres.

“Let her go!” Aida growled.

Azazel was unfazed, keeping me up, my feet dangling in the air. I choked, my vision becoming blurry. My throat hurt as I wheezed, struggling to breathe. He grinned at me.

“Still no visions, darling?”

“Drop… dead…” I managed to say between the quarter-breaths I strained to take in.

“Again, I find you picking on defenseless creatures instead of facing your enemies like the real Destroyer that you claim to be.” Draven’s calm voice traveled across the platform.

Azazel glanced over his shoulder and smirked, relaxing his grip on my throat, and I felt the blood draining from my face.

“Here to taunt me again, little Druid?” he scoffed.

“I’m here to tell you that there’s still time for you to surrender,” Draven replied.

His tall silhouette stood alone at the top of the only staircase linking the level below to the platform, his hands behind his back, a sword dangling from his belt.

Azazel laughed mockingly, then tossed me aside like a ragdoll. I landed with a thud, whimpering from the pain shooting through my shoulder and the fire burning in my throat as I breathed in a lungful of air and gradually recovered my senses.

“I’m really not interested in dealing with a projection, little Druid.” Azazel turned around to face Draven. “Come face me yourself, coward.”

A small black snake moved along the edge of the platform, coming toward me. Something twinkled between its fangs. As it got closer, I got a better view—it was the little golden key, the magical object designed to unlock my obsidian suppressor cuffs. He must have gotten a copy off Thadeus or Damion before he got here.

“Patrik,” I whispered. I snatched the key from his mouth and freed myself, while Patrik slithered away and vanished behind a pillar.

I looked up and watched Azazel saunter toward Draven, who gave him a dry half-smile. There were several torches mounted on the black marble columns decorating the bare edge of the round platform. The closest one was just ten feet behind me. Azazel was focused on Draven’s projection, so I had the two seconds I needed to get the torch and use its flame against him.

I pushed myself up to my knees, then stilled as a thought crossed my mind. Serena had told Aida that her group was on its way up. I stared at the Druid for a couple of seconds, the realization quickly coming over me. This wasn’t a projection. This was really him!

My eyes immediately scanned the platform again, and I held my breath, my heart skipping a beat. I recognized the familiar faces peeking out from behind the black marble pillars, at key points around Azazel—Serena, Jovi, Hansa and Jax, Thadeus in Druid form, and one shape-shifter. I couldn’t believe it. I hadn’t noticed them come up, and neither had Azazel. While he’d been busy threatening us, they must have snuck up the stairs and onto the platform, one by one.