Love Me to Death (Underveil, #1)(86)
He knew her name and used her father’s words. “Who are you?”
“The most dangerous force down here. You said so yourself.”
He was a lot more than that. She closed her eyes again and saw nothing. The seer effect of the elf’s blood had worn off.
Loud voices came from somewhere above their heads. “Fydor now knows you are in the fortress,” the vampire warned. “The guard you shocked is conscious and telling him what happened… Oops. Now, he’s dead.”
“I need to know who you are.” Elena pushed.
“It’s too late.”
“Do not kill the Arcos female under any circumstances. I want her alive. Are we clear?” Fydor’s voice bellowed from above. “Bring her to me when she is secured.”
The vampire gave a defeated shrug. “The dungeon is lined in metal mixed with elven ore. You cannot teleport out of here. I’m afraid you did not make a good choice in remaining behind, Elena Arcos.”
She pulled the key out from between her breasts and placed it in his hand. “I think I did.” She closed his cell door so it looked like he was locked in and whirled to face the stairs.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Nikolai felt like his rib cage had exploded at the last strike from Fydor’s club. “I don’t know,” he said again.
“If you don’t tell me what Elena Arcos is, and what her powers are, I will find your sister and tear her limb from limb in your presence. That Arcos bitch shocked a guard into unconsciousness, somehow freed all but two of my prisoners, and took another guard hostage. She escaped capture by shocking a bear shifter and two other Slayers to the point they can’t even talk.” He shook his head in disbelief. “She broke prisoners out of my dungeon. Nobody ever escapes my dungeon.” Fydor raised the club again. “Last chance.”
The guy was all kinds of crazy, and keeping him in the dark about Elena seemed the best tactic. “I can’t tell you what I don’t know. I could make shit up if you want.” Nikolai’s vision blurred red as some blood trickled into his eye. “You told me she was a vampire, but she was human. She escaped from me, and right as I located her at her home, your goons came in and grabbed me, letting her get away. It’s your fault she’s on the loose, not mine.”
Fydor circled the room, tapping the club in his hand. Nikolai studied his every move, hoping for a clue as to how to defeat him, which looked pretty f*cking remote while chained to a wall. Still, Elena was in the building and Aleksi was alive, or Fydor wouldn’t be using her as a threat. Things could be worse.
“You don’t need him anymore,” a familiar voice said from outside the room.
Okay. So, now things couldn’t be worse.
Nikolai gritted his teeth as the sorcerer Borya entered the room. His black-eyed gaze flitted over Nik dismissively before he turned to his uncle. “He’s useless.”
“Perhaps, but I enjoy him.”
The sorcerer took a step closer to Fydor, who flinched visibly. “Enjoy someone less dangerous. Enjoy someone who does not have a legitimate claim to the throne you like so much, King Fydor. Someone who is not tied to the Uniter, who I understand is in this building.”
“It’s rumor only,” Fydor sputtered.
Borya held his staff in front of him, and what looked like a lightning bolt shot from the knob on the handle, straight into Fydor’s chest. His face froze in a mask of pain and terror. Borya’s voice was barely intelligible over the crackle of the bolt. “Do not ever lie to me again, Slayer, or you will feel pain like this for the rest of your immortal tenure.”
Fydor gasped and slumped to the floor in a heap after the bolt sucked back into the staff.
“Are we clear?” Borya asked.
Unable to speak, Fydor nodded.
The sorcerer gave Nikolai another glare before returning his attention to Fydor. “I want you to find the escaped prisoners, and I want them, along with this one, executed for treason tomorrow night. The Uniter will burn on a stake next to him for all to see. Do you understand, King Fydor?”
Still racked with pain on the floor, he nodded. “Yes, yes. I understand. It will be done.”
“When I return next,” Borya continued, “I want to see nothing but ash smoldering around burning posts and all the factions bowing down to your terrible power.”
It was a long time after the sorcerer left before Fydor finally rose to his feet.
“He’s playing you, Uncle,” Nikolai said. “Murdering a member of each faction will not make them fear you. It will make them hate you.”
Obviously still in pain from the bolt that knocked him down, he picked up the club from the ground. “Hate and fear are intertwined and powerful.”
“No. Fear and respect are the most powerful combination.”
“Ha! Respect. You sound like your father.” Fydor’s hold on the club tightened.
“Borya wants chaos. He has no intention of letting you rule. You are no more than a puppet. A pawn in his game.”
Nik braced himself for a blow, but instead, Fydor threw the club at his feet like a child who’d just lost a game of jacks before storming from the cell.
Thank goodness Claude knew where the stable was because Elena was certain she’d have never found it. The thick, predawn fog made the air seem liquid and the grounds surreal, which reflected her whole situation. It felt like any moment, she’d shake off sleep and wake up from this nightmare.