Feel the Burn (Dragon Kin #8)(56)

Perhaps bringing Nina Chechneva hadn’t been such a big mistake after all. . . . .

“So what’s on your mind, sister?” Gaius asked as he now reached for the cheese.

“What makes you think there’s something on my—?”

“Aggie, please,” he begged. “Not with me, sister.”

“What happened to you . . . it bothers me.”

“Because I was stupid?”

“You weren’t stupid. You were eager. We both were. And those who captured you knew we would be.”

“Everyone knows we want our cousins. They’re traitors to the empire. To us.”

Aggie pursed her lips and Gaius studied her for a long moment before he asked, “What are you thinking?”

“I’m just thinking that instead of waiting for them to come to us . . . to bring our cousins to us—whether it’s that ridiculous cult or someone else working with them—we go find them ourselves. Hunt our kin down and wipe them out.”

“All right. And who do you think would take on such a task?”

Aggie shrugged. “You.”

“Me? After I almost got myself killed?”

“That only happened because they had something to lure you with. Lure us with. We were reacting, not acting. I say no more of that bullshit. If we kill our cousins first . . . the rest of the world has nothing left to bargain with.”

Gaius grabbed Aggie around the waist and sat up, plopping his sister beside him on the lounge.

“You take the best and most trusted of your soldiers,” Aggie said, leaning in close, her voice low. “Dragons only, so they can fly when needed. You get the information. You hunt our cousins down. You kill them all. Then we’ll be done with it.”

“The Senate—and especially Aunt Lætitia—will not like me going off again.” Gaius smirked at his sister. “And some will think you’re purposely sending me off to my death.”

“And that will work until you get back. At least for me and my still tenuous reputation among our own. But don’t worry.” She patted his knee. “If I wanted you dead, I’d do it myself to ensure it was done properly. You know how picky I am.”

“Very true. Sadly, though, all my most trusted warriors were just killed during my last excursion.”

“But you forget the ones you traveled here with. A Cadwaladr and some Mì-runach. If nothing else, you know those Low Borns don’t want our throne and they’ll happily kill anything you tell them to.”

“Do you think they’ll fight for me?”

Aggie flicked her hands up. “Couldn’t hurt to ask.”

With the knife buried to the hilt in the top of his head, the man stumbled and dropped, while Nina rolled away, coming immediately to her feet. She then rammed another dagger into a different male, but she didn’t kill this one instantly. Instead, she just incapacitated him.

And, while he struggled to breathe, eyes wide in fear, she pressed a bloody hand against his chest, chanted a few words, and then yanked the man’s screaming soul from his body. She made a fist, silencing the screams and taking the soul as her own.

Panting, exuberant, she faced Kachka, raising her brows. A silent question. Kachka knew Nina would only ask it once.

Kachka looked around at what they’d already done. And remembered what Annwyl wanted. For the Chramnesind cult to start feeling some fear. To know that they were f*cking with the wrong queen.

The man that Nina had attacked looked . . . wrong. Mouth twisted open, eyes bulging wildly from their sockets. Muscles strained and locked in pain so the whole body was contorted in death.

Sure. They could chop all these men to bits, but that could happen in any war. This . . . this display would send a message that would not soon be forgotten.

Kachka waited no longer. She nodded once and Nina, smiling wide, turned and found a few more victims. Her body trembled in ecstasy with each soul she ripped away from the screaming men.

While Nina did that, everyone else pursued their own forms of mayhem. Zoya twisted men until they broke for her. Marina cut men down quickly, without fuss or pleasure. It was just a job. The siblings killed like they were on the Outerplains hunting boar. Tatyana watched from a distance, her bow ready, if it was needed. But she’d done her job. She’d brought them here. She’d provided good, solid information. Kachka would not now make her fight.

Kachka herself tracked down the one she was sure was the leader. He had an arrow to the back, but his armor had stopped it from going all the way to his heart. He was dragging himself off into the trees when Kachka caught up with him. She grabbed his leg and dragged him back to the middle of the carnage. She flipped him over and held him down with a foot against his chest.

“Why did your cult send you here?” she asked him.

“You, whore, will burn in the pits of hell for what you have done here.”

“Was it just to cause fear in the Southlanders? Or do you look for something? Tell me and we make quick work of your death.”

“My god will find you. He will destroy you. He will destroy all you love. For his power is great!”

Kachka stopped listening and stepped away from the man, motioning to a joyful Zoya Kolesova.

The larger woman slammed her foot on the man’s chest, forcing him to the ground, the arrow in his back pushed until it broke. Then she stepped back, hefted her battle axe high above her head, and brought it down six times. The man was nothing but big chunks when she was finished.