I nodded back at Deah, then focused on Victor, since he was the one in charge. Even I had to admit that he was a handsome man, with a lean, trim figure and thick, wavy, golden hair that was brushed back from his forehead. His eyes were golden too, but instead of being warm and welcoming, they reminded me of coins that had been left outside in a blizzard—completely, utterly cold.
I knew better than anyone else that the eyes were truly the windows to the soul and that despite his handsome exterior, Victor was as black and rotten as they came on the inside, with the darkest heart I’d ever seen.
Victor was the only Draconi who wasn’t carrying a weapon. Then again, he didn’t need to; a cold chill of magic continually blasted off his body. Victor’s own magic was greater than that of any of the black blades in the restaurant, and it made goosebumps rise on my skin in a way that the other stolen magic didn’t. Maybe that was because I knew how horribly he’d tortured other people to get so much magic and so many Talents.
White stars winked on and off in my field of vision, and for a moment, the image of my mom’s broken, bloody body filled my mind. Her arms and legs bent at awkward angles, the deep, vicious stab wounds in her chest, all the horrible cuts and gashes and slashes that marred her skin, her mouth frozen open in one last helpless scream....
I blinked and blinked, forcing away the white stars and the horrible memories they brought along with them. Now was not the time to let my soulsight magic throw me back into the past and make me relive my mom’s murder. Not if I wanted to survive this and help my friends do the same.
“Good,” Victor said in a deep, silky voice, clear menace rumbling through each and every one of his words. “I’m so glad that we aren’t late to the party.”
He waved his hand and all the Draconis snapped up their weapons to an attention stance, including Blake and Deah. Blake realized that I was staring at him and he sneered back at me. My hands curled into fists. When the fighting started, he’d come after me sooner or later. Good. Let him come. I’d show him that I didn’t need a weapon to take him down.
Hiroshi Ito stepped to the front of the crowd. “Victor!” he barked out. “What is the meaning of this?”
Victor gave him a cold look. “The meaning is that from this night on, there’s only going to be one Family in Cloudburst Falls—the Draconi Family.” He looked out over the crowd, his gaze flicking from one face to another. “I’m giving everyone in this room a choice. Join my Family, become a Draconi, and swear your allegiance to me right here and now.”
“Or what?” Hiroshi barked again.
Victor gave him another cold look, as if the answer was obvious. “Or die.”
Even though everyone knew he was going to say something like that, shocked gasps still rang out, and excited, worried chatter rippled through the crowd. I ignored it all and looked around, glancing at first one Draconi, then another, trying to sense exactly which guards had real black blades and which ones didn’t.
One, two, three . . . I counted a dozen guards with black blades, which was the same number of magic-filled weapons I’d left in Victor’s secret room. So he hadn’t discovered that the weapons were fakes after all. Deah had told me as much with her earlier nod, but it was still good to confirm it for myself. All we had to do was get out of the restaurant and make it back to the Sinclair mansion, and we’d be safe.
Easier said than done, though. But I started looking at all the doors and windows, planning the best and quickest way to get my friends to safety. We could smash through the windows, but that would take precious time and leave us exposed to the Draconi guards. The swinging double doors on the back wall of the restaurant that led into the kitchen were our best bet. Only a few guards were stationed in front of them, and there had to be a rear exit out of the kitchen.
But Hiroshi wasn’t about to be cowed so easily by Victor, especially not in one of his own restaurants. “You really think your guards can kill all of us?” he asked. “My Family will fight you to the death before ever we join you.”
All around the room, the other Itos muttered their agreement, including Poppy, who now stood next to her father, her eyes narrowed and her hands clenched into fists, ready to fight alongside the rest of her Family.
“I don’t think my guards can do anything,” Victor said, a mocking note creeping into his voice. “I know they can. You see, I’ve known that this day was coming for a long time now, and I’ve planned accordingly.”
He swept his hand out to the side, gesturing at all his guards. “That’s why I’ve outfitted every single one of my guards with a black blade that’s filled with magic. Strength, speed, enhanced senses . . . it’s all there, all taken from monsters, with each blade matched to a specific guard to best take advantage of my men’s natural Talents, to increase their strength and speed until no one can stand against them.”
More shocked gasps rang out as people realized that Victor wasn’t joking—and just how many monsters he had murdered in order to amass that much magic. But the gasps quickly died down into an eerie, charged silence, as everyone understood just how much trouble we were really in—and how easily the Draconis could use that stolen monster magic to kill every single person in the restaurant.
“So you see, it would be far better to swear your loyalty to me now,” Victor purred, satisfaction rippling through his words. “Or I will order my guards to cut you all to pieces.”
That eerie silence descended over the restaurant again, more tense than ever before, and everyone started looking back and forth between Victor, the Draconi guards, and their own Family members, debating what to do. No one wanted to bow down to Victor, but they didn’t want to get slaughtered either, especially when they knew that they didn’t have a fighting chance.
“How about a demonstration then?” Victor called out. “Just to assure you all how serious I really am.”
No one answered him, so he turned and gestured for one of his guards to step forward into the center of the restaurant where everyone could see him. I didn’t recognize the guard, but he wasn’t important right now. Getting my hands on a weapon was.
So I sidled forward, creeping up on the Draconi guard closest to me. But he noticed the movement out of the corner of his eye, and he turned and glowered at me, brandishing his sword in a clear warning to stand still or else. So I stood still. Now wasn’t the time to make a move, but soon—very, very soon.
“Go ahead,” Victor told the guard. “Stab yourself in the heart with the blade black. Take the magic in it for yourself, and show everyone how strong you can truly be.”
The guard stared at Victor, then down at the sword in his hand. I looked at the weapon—really looked at it with my sight magic. To the casual observer, it was a genuine black blade, right down to its dull, ash-gray color. But I could see the sword in supersharp detail, and I could tell that the ashy color wasn’t from any natural bloodiron, but rather from the paint that had been sprayed on the surface.
So the guard had one of the fake weapons. I almost felt sorry for the guy. He didn’t know what he was about to do to himself, but there was no way I could stop him. Not with Victor and all the other Draconis here. Even if I’d shouted a warning to the man, I doubted he would have believed me. Not with the head of his Family urging him on.
“Go on,” Victor ordered. “Do it. Stab yourself. Now. Or I’ll have Blake do it for you.”
Blake stepped up and gave the guard an evil grin, swinging his own sword back and forth in warning. I looked at his weapon too, but it was as fake as the guard’s.
The guard swallowed and nervous sweat beaded on his forehead, but he had no choice but to do as his boss commanded. So he slowly changed his grip and turned the point of his sword around, so that it was facing in toward his own chest.
“Go on,” Victor said. “Stab yourself. Now.”
The guard nodded at no one in particular, then sucked in a breath, lifted the sword, and plunged the tip into his own chest, close to his heart. Blood arced through the air, spat
tering onto one of the white tablecloths. The guard screamed in pain and doubled over. Horrified gasps rippled through the crowd, but no one dared step forward to try to help him.
It was too late for that anyway.
I’d only seen one other person stab herself with a black blade in order to absorb the magic stored in the weapon. When Katia Volkov had plunged two daggers into her own body, she’d screamed and doubled over in pain too, just like this guard. But after a few seconds, Katia had straightened right back up and yanked the daggers out of her chest. The black blades—and the bloodiron they were made out of—had transferred the monster magic from the daggers into Katia’s body, and they had also sealed up her wounds, making it seem as though she had never stabbed herself in the first place.
But that didn’t happen with this guard.
Since his sword wasn’t made out of bloodiron, it didn’t contain any magic, and the wound the man had just inflicted on himself was very, very real—and very, very fatal. Blood poured out of the deep stab wound, and the man screamed again and collapsed in a heap at Victor’s feet, clutching at the sword that was still stuck in his chest.
Silence descended over the restaurant again. Blood kept oozing out of the man’s chest, and his screams quickly faded to hoarse rasps, before his head lolled to one side and his body went slack altogether.
Dead—the guard was dead.
Killed by plunging a fake black blade into his own chest. Victor might have ordered him to do it, but guilt still burned in my heart at the part I’d played in the man’s death, even though I couldn’t have saved him.
Victor’s mouth dropped open and he stared down at the dead guard in disbelief, trying to figure out what had gone so wrong with his perfect plan.
A low laugh sounded, and everyone’s heads snapped around, as they wondered who would be laughing at a time like this.
The answer? Claudia.
She strode forward and the crowd parted to let her through. She skirted guards and tables, moving through the restaurant until she was standing in the middle of the open space behind the dead guard and directly opposite Victor.
He looked at her, then down at the dead man on the floor. His mouth flattened out into a harsh line.
“What did you do?” he growled.
Claudia laughed again. “Why, I didn’t do anything, Victor,” she said in a voice that was as icy as his was angry. “You’re the one who was stupid enough to give your guards fake black blades. Not me.”
His golden eyes narrowed with understanding. “You switched out the blades. Somehow, you found out about them. You broke into my office and swapped the real weapons for fakes.”
Claudia nodded. “Now you’re catching on.”
She stared Victor down for another moment, then deliberately turned her back to him, as if she no longer considered him a threat, and walked over to Hiroshi Ito.
Claudia turned back around so that she was facing Victor again, then looked at Hiroshi. “It seems as though Victor and his Family aren’t as strong as they think they are. What do you say that we finally do something about them?”
Hiroshi nodded, knowing what she was really asking—that he unite with her and the Sinclairs against Victor and the rest of the Draconis.
“Agreed,” he said. “Victor has held sway over us for far too long.”
“I’m with you too.” Roberto Salazar stepped up beside the two of them, adding his Family’s support.
“Well, I am not,” another voice piped up. “I want no part of this nonsense and neither does anyone in my Family.”
Everyone turned to look at Nikolai Volkov, who backed up so that he was standing against one wall of the restaurant. His guards moved to follow him, and it was clear that they wouldn’t take part in any fight—either to help the Draconis or the other Families.
Victor glared at Nikolai. “Don’t be so stupid as to think that you can go back on our deal now. Not after our meeting last night. You want the other Families wiped out as badly as I do. You knew exactly what was going to happen here tonight, and you agreed to help me and my men.”
Nikolai shrugged. “And you promised me black blades for my guards when you don’t even have them for your own. The deal is off, as far as I’m concerned.”
“I’ll kill you for this,” Victor hissed.
Nikolai laughed. “Good luck with that.”
Nikolai jerked his head, and he and his guards started easing toward the back of the restaurant, away from the line of Draconi guards still blocking the front doors. Claudia, Hiroshi, and Roberto stood their ground, with their guards moving to flank them and form a united front.
Victor looked back and forth from Nikolai to Claudia and the heads of the other Families. After a second, his face twisted into a cruel, ugly expression, and cold, cold hate flared to life in his eyes, chilling me to the bone. His original plan might not have worked, but he’d come too far to back down now. He waved his hand at his guards, then stabbed his finger across the restaurant at all of his enemies.
“Attack!” Victor yelled. “Kill them! Kill them all!”
CHAPTER EIGHT
For a moment, everyone remained frozen in place, shocked by his harsh, brutal command.
“Attack!” Victor roared again. “Kill them all! Every last person who stands against me!”
At his continued urging, the Draconi guards yelled, snapped up their weapons, and charged forward into the crowd of people. None of them tried to turn their black blades on themselves, though. They’d already seen what a deadly disaster that had turned out to be for one of their own.
The Draconi guard who’d been watching me whipped around and raised his sword high, intending to bring it down on top of my head. But I was quicker than he was and I stepped up and punched him in the throat, making him gasp for air and stagger back. His weapon slid from his grasp and tumbled to the floor, and I darted forward and snatched it up before he could grab it again.
The cold burn of magic flooded my veins the second I touched the sword.
So this guard had a real black blade, although I had no idea what kind of magic it might contain. Strength from a copper crusher, most likely, or perhaps speed from a tree troll. But I wasn’t about to stab myself with the sword to find out. I wasn’t that desperate—yet.
Besides, just holding the weapon was enough to get my own transference power to kick in, and I felt myself growing stronger and stronger the longer I held the sword, almost as if the mere touch of my hand on the black blade was enough to pull the magic stored inside the bloodiron into my own body. Maybe it was, with my transference Talent.
But I didn’t have time to figure it out. In an instant, the tense quiet of the restaurant exploded into one loud, enormous fight. Tables and chairs flipped over, platters of food crashed to the floor, and glasses shattered as people dropped their drinks and stampeded every which way, trying to escape the Draconi guards and their slashing swords. Screams, shouts, and shrieks filled the air, along with blood.
So much blood.
Even though most of their weapons weren’t real black blades, the Draconi guards still had swords and daggers, and they pressed their advantage, cutting into every single person they could reach. Two of them realized that I’d disarmed one of their friends, and they engaged me, swinging their swords back and forth.
Left, right, left, left, right.
Thanks to the extra strength running through my veins, I parried their blows with ease, crashing my sword into theirs time and time again, then whipped around and unleashed my own attacks on them.
Right, left, right, right, left.
I cut one guard across the stomach, making him scream and stagger back, then whirled around and drove my sword through the chest of the second man. He collapsed when I pulled the weapon free from his body.
I turned around, looking for the next guard to battle. The Draconis had most people pinned up against the booths and walls, but there were a few folks who were fighting back, even though they had nothing to defend th
emselves with but their bare hands.
Like Devon.
He ducked one guard’s sword, stepped up, and plowed his fist into another man’s face, breaking his nose. That second guard yelped in pain, and Devon smoothly plucked the man’s sword out of his hand before whipping around and slicing it across the man’s stomach. That guard dropped to the floor screaming, and Devon whirled around, searching the restaurant.
His green eyes locked with mine, and his sharp worry flooded my chest, along with his rock-hard strength and determination to get me and the rest of the Sinclairs out of here. When he realized that I was okay and that I had a weapon, some of his worry eased, and his head swiveled around, searching for the rest of our friends.
His gaze moved on to Claudia, who was hunkered down behind a table, hurling glasses at the Draconis that were creeping up on her. Angelo was flanking her, also throwing glasses, while Mo and Reginald had grabbed the chairs from the table and were holding them out in front of them like makeshift shields, trying to keep the Draconis and their swords at bay.
Devon hesitated, torn between helping me and his mom, but he was closer to Claudia and the others than I was. Besides, I could take care of myself, and Claudia was the head of the Sinclairs. Devon needed to get her to safety—now.
“Go!” I yelled, waving at him. “Get Claudia!”
I don’t know if he heard me over the continued screams and shouts, but he saw me waving. Devon nodded, then pivoted to face another guard coming up on his left. He pushed that man down and started to run over to his mom, but two more guards stepped up to block his path.
I started to shove my way through the crowd so I could help him, but a guard fell down a few feet away from me, letting out a loud cry and drawing my attention. For a second, I thought that the guard had just tripped over the debris littering the floor, but then I realized that Felix had pushed him down, trying to get to Deah, who was still standing along the wall, staring out at the scene before her as if she couldn’t believe what was happening. That Victor, Blake, and the rest of the Draconis were actually attacking all the other Families and doing their best to kill everyone in the restaurant.