Page 35 of Blood Prince

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A shadowy plan began to form in my mind, but I needed more information before making any decisions. “We’ll get in.”

“How?”

There was always a way to get to an enemy, even if it meant playing by their rules for a short while. “Let’s just keep walking for now. I need to concentrate on the game.”

He bounced his head against the tree. “That’s the thing, Elena, it isn’t a game. If she finds me, I’m done. I won’t be able to protect you.”

I rose and dusted off my leathers. “Yeah, but look at the bright side. If that happens, at least Arachne won’t eat you, right?”

He shook his head and stood before pulling me into his chest. I was beginning to get used to his affection. Leaning against him, I enjoyed the feel of his arms around me. He nuzzled my hair, his mouth so close to my ear it sent shivers down my back. “Can you at least tell me what you’re cooking up in that brilliant mind of yours? I know you have something.”

“Nothing solid.”

He kissed my hair and released me. “Well, I guess the game is afoot.”

“What do you mean?” I brushed my hair from my face and continued along our path.

“You’ve never heard ‘the game is afoot’?” He steadied me as my ankle turned on a protruding root.

“Why would the game be a foot? A game you play with your feet?” Puzzling.

He laughed. The sound bounced off the trees and echoed back to them. “Never mind. It’s an earth thing.”

That explained it. Artemis’s maidens never took much interest in earth. I certainly never did. Only my sister Iphi would sit and stare at the viewing pools in the Forgotten Forest, watching for hours. They were a window to earth, showing Olympus who kept to the old ways and still worshipped the gods. But Iphi was interested in far more. She was always curious about what the humans were up to, what they were destroying, and what they were watching on their mind-numbing televisions.

A wave of homesickness washed over me. I could have used my sisters’ help in this fight. As it was, Paris and I were on our own.

“—ahead.”

“Huh?” I’d been lost in thoughts of my sisters.

Paris shushed me. His fangs had lengthened, and his gaze was pinned to the mist ahead of us. Before I had a chance to stop and listen, I threw myself against Paris, and we collapsed to the ground as a bolt of dark magic shot over our heads. We scrambled to our feet and chose two separate trees for cover.

The air around me was abuzz with power, and my palms lit in response. Shouts cut through the air, and hexes whizzed past. It took a moment, but it soon became clear we weren’t the targets. We had walked into someone else’s fight. We were spectators. Paris nodded toward some trees closer to the sounds. We approached, sneaking from tree to tree until the mist dissipated enough to show a battlefield in a clearing. An enormous, ruined watchtower spiraled into the air above us, the top blasted open long ago. Large lichen-covered stones littered the ground.

I peeked from my hiding place, trying to discern the warring factions. Mages had taken the high ground inside the watchtower and threw dark magics at approaching vampires. The vampires, armed with swords and shields bearing a circular, swirling symbol, stormed the tower. Mage bodies littered the ground, their twisted and ruined visages revealing they were dark magic users. They weren’t born with magic, like me. They’d sacrificed innocents and performed dark rites to gain a taste of power. Their ways were evil, and they were a scourge in all the worlds.

The battle raged on. I tore my eyes away from the bloodshed and stole a glance at Paris. He was mesmerized, watching the vampires intently. I tried to get his attention so that we could skirt the battle, but it was no use. He moved ahead to a tree at the very edge of the clearing. I cursed under my breath. We didn’t need another dangerous interlude to keep us from our goal. I crept along with him, easing against a tree a bit farther back.

The sounds of battle died slowly, along with the remaining mages. The vampires had taken the tower. Bodies hit the grass as the vampires threw them from the heights and into a pile, likely for burning.

“Paris,” I hissed.

I motioned him to back away, quietly trying to get his attention without alerting the vampires to my presence.

I failed.

An arm like a vise wrapped around my waist. A vampire hurled me out into the clearing, directly at the feet of the bloody soldiers.

Paris

I was stunned, not believing the vision before me. These were vampire soldiers bearing the crest of Priam—the mark of my father. The swirl pattern of life everlasting glinted from their shields. The same crest I and thousands of soldiers had worn during the Battle of Troy.


Tags: Celia Aaron Vampires