ENVY HADN’xT HAD a decent fight in a good long while.
He was glad now that he hadn’t taken Wrath up on his recent offer. He channeled his less dominant sins into weapons to be used on his enemies, stoking his wrath and gluttony and lust for killing.
He saved the best for last.
Envy summoned an image in his mind, one that made his sin snarl. For once he let his envy out of its cage, let it consume every thought, save one. Zarus had touched Camilla, knowing it was only a matter of time before Envy arrived on his doorstep.
With the memory of the vampire’s hands on her body, his teeth scraping across her neck as he used his powers on her, Envy spun, sinking his dagger into a leg.
The vampire’s growl was animal, the splurt of blood satisfying.
He’d aim for Zarus’s unbeating heart next.
Ice shot around the arena, a result of Envy’s power. He needed to pace himself, rein his magic and emotions in, or he’d burn out too fast. Already he felt breathless, the strain of moving his body more difficult without his gods-forsaken heart.
Sadistic Death goddesses.
The Kiadara used claw and fang and might, falling on him like starved animals in a frenzy. Daggers made of his ice stabbed the creatures.
Envy landed punches that sent them flying back, took some hits, and quickly realized they’d come prepared to win using any means necessary.
The Kiadara coated their claws and blades in toxins, slowing his already sluggish healing abilities.
If he had to guess, based on the searing pain shooting down his back, they’d made hellebane. If he’d placed a bet at House Greed, he’d have wagered Zarus had done the same.
Blade had said Zarus planned to poison Envy, but hellebane was different. The plant was only found in the most remote regions of the Seven Circles, and wasn’t toxic unless burned to a powder.
A barbed whip slashed between his shoulders, right where his wings were still tucked away. Hellebane seeped into his flesh, scalding. The pain honed his fury.
Envy spun, punching through Canidae’s chest to rip out its still-beating heart. He tossed it to its brethren, who grew ravenous as they fought over it. The Kiadara’s hunger knew no bounds—they’d eat their own severed limbs if blood lust had taken them.
He raised his blade to the vampire, his teeth bared. This needed to end.
Quickly. But he’d still make a good show of it.
“Come play.”
“I’m going to make that little bitch come before I suck her dry,” Zarus sneered.
It was the wrong thing to say.
Regardless of how drained he was, Envy moved with as much of his immortal strength as he could muster, dragging his blade across the vampire’s neck.
The wound was superficial, a warning that Envy was still playing.
He spun and struck again, this time sinking his blade into flesh until he nicked bone.
Zarus howled.
Envy barely noticed the hellebane-coated blades as they tore at his flesh.
His gaze was fixed, hungry, on one target.
He brought his dagger down on the vampire’s right knee, bone shattering from the impact. Zarus, for the first time, lost his sneer. He hobbled back, wincing.
Envy stopped playing. Only one of them was walking out of this arena and it sure as fuck was going to be Envy. Fear entered Zarus’s eyes.
Vampires healed fast, but bones took time to mend.
Envy struck again, breaking his other kneecap. It shattered to dust.
Zarus wouldn’t be standing again.
The Kiadara circled them both, spittle flying, landing in acidic hisses on the sand. Envy was momentarily distracted, and one of Bovinae’s bull horns pierced his shoulder, going clean through.
The wound didn’t begin to heal.
Envy gritted his teeth, swinging his blade up and through the Kiadara’s rib cage, despite the ripping pain in his own chest.
His earlier wound had split open, but at least the Kiadara had crumbled into a heap, twitching.
Zarus had summoned the other two Kiadara to his side, forming a meager line of protection. His knees likely wouldn’t heal until he feasted on blood and had a day’s rest.
Zarus would not see sunrise.
The remaining Kiadara growled and screeched.
Envy’s grip on his dagger tightened.
Lion or Falcon. Panthera or Falconidae.
In the end it didn’t matter where he started. Envy felt no satisfaction in destroying these creatures, descended from gods. It was a waste.
And one more reason he would kill this vampire who took life without care.
Not kill, he reminded himself. That final blow belonged to another. Envy might be a soulless demon, but Zarus was a rotten bastard. His court deserved better.
Panthera roared, the sound vibrating the ground with its force.
Until this point, Envy hadn’t paid attention to the crowd; he’d tuned them out, focusing instead on the sounds of his blade, meeting and tearing and shredding flesh. Now he heard their jeers, their cries for blood. They didn’t care whose it was.
He wanted to look for Camilla again in the stands, to know she was still secure, but didn’t. Alexei had his instructions. He’d die by Envy’s hand if he didn’t follow them.
Panthera prowled in a circle around Envy, closing in slowly.
Falconidae let loose a shrill call meant to distract. They would come at Envy as a team.
The wounds in his back bled freely, the drops turning to gold as they hit the ground. The creatures scented it, their gazes turning fully black. Envy was damned, but his blood was still divine; one taste was worth dying for. Or so he’d been told.
“I know I’m pretty. But are you going to stand there mentally undressing me all night?”
They leapt in tandem, each striking out at him. Envy narrowly missed Panthera’s teeth but wasn’t as fortunate with Falconidae’s sword. It carved into his side, hitting a rib.
Hellebane made the wound twice as painful, his breath turning sharp with each damned inhalation. His gold blood mixed with the red and black of his opponents and their previous victim, spilling faster than it had ever done before.
Fucking hell. He was getting… dizzy.
Panthera used the distraction to knock Envy to the ground.
Sand ground into the wounds on his back as Panthera’s teeth gnashed at his throat. Where its saliva hit his skin, it sizzled like water hitting hot rocks.
Envy bucked, sending the lion flying across the pit, its body hitting the stone wall with such power that it fell, limbs and head crooked, dead.
Envy did not pity the final creature. Falconidae.
He charged the raptor-headed monster, dagger puncturing one eye, then the next, before he tore the creature’s head off and tossed it aside, panting. The hellebane continued to burn beneath his skin. He needed to clean his wounds soon. And the fight needed to end.
Envy was weakened, more so than he’d ever admit.
Zarus, however, was trying to drag himself away, trailing his useless legs.
Envy walked over and drove his blade through Zarus’s hand, pinning him, then crouched in front of the wounded vampire, arms propped casually on his knees. The position hurt like nothing he’d ever experienced. But his expression didn’t let any pain show.
It would be so easy to rip Zarus’s head off and feed it to the flames right now. But the game hung in the balance, so he waited, wounds searing. The Fear Collector had given an unmistakable command.
He wondered, briefly, if the vampire had known all along what was at stake today.
If he’d agreed anyway. The Unseelie were excellent at stoking egos, making a win seem inevitable instead of improbable.
“Hubris, the great destroyer of man and beast alike.” Envy tsked. “Whatever the Unseelie King offered, you should have refused. You had a good life. Blood. Lovers. A whole court to serve and please you. Yet you dared to stand against a Prince of Hell.”
Zarus coughed up black blood, but his expression remained a vicious mask of defiance.
“She’ll… never… be… yours.”
Something twisted in Envy’s chest, as painful as the hellebane.
“Did Lennox tell you this would happen?” he asked. “That you would fight for more than your crown?”
Rage flared in Zarus’s ice-blue eyes.
“… promised… his… daughter.”
“I certainly hope he specified which one. He has more animal-like half-breeds roaming around than any of the mortal gods. He might have promised a sacred cow to you.”
Zarus’s lacerated tongue darted out, as if savoring this final blow.
“… one… four.”
Envy’s brows knitted.
There were four blood heirs in the Wild Court, two Unseelie princes and two Unseelie princesses. Each was rumored to possess magic with untold capabilities.
It would indeed be enough of an incentive for Zarus to risk it all.
Not only would his court be aligned with all Unseelie Fae, but his princess would be fearsome, powerful enough to keep enemies from his shores.
Any Unseelie princess would be as wicked as her parents, though, eventually ending her vampire prince for sport. Or, more likely, to claim more territory for the dark Fae.
Lennox never offered something of value unless he believed his investment would triple. The vampire either didn’t know or didn’t care about that. He probably thought he’d trap the princess with his venom.
Zarus gurgled on his own blood, trying to say more.
Envy supposed it was poetic justice in a sense.
He yanked his gaze away, finding Blade in the cavern just outside the pit. Thanks fucking be. The hellebane was so painful now, he was nearly brought to his knees. He needed to siphon some envy soon, replenish his depleted power.
Teeth gritted, Envy hauled Zarus’s limp form up.
Blade’s crimson eyes glowed with violence as he stepped forward. It was time to crown a new prince.
Zarus finally caught up with the truth of the situation, his fingers clawing at Envy’s arms.
“Mercy. I forfeit!”
“You never should have attacked my brother, or abused your own people,” Envy said quietly. “Taking Camilla was your worst move yet. Never touch what’s mine.”
Blade’s attention remained locked on the prince, his fangs gleaming as the sun slowly began to rise. In a move that was at once graceful and brutal, he tore out Zarus’s throat, then held the severed head high. Envy felt the crowd’s shock trickling down.
Blade didn’t play with his targets; he’d always been one to strike hard and fast, dispatching with precision.
Envy sent a bit of magic to the bodies piled on the sand, creating a pyre.
Blade brought the prince’s head to the flames, holding it there as the fire burned it to ash. Zarus had been so ancient, his papery skin caught like kindling.
The crowd’s hysteria hung like a dark mist.
“Silence.” Blade’s voice cut off the cries of terror that had erupted.
“By blood.” He indicated the charred head of his predecessor. “By blade.” He dragged his weapon over his heart. “By might. I’ve taken the Immortal Throne.”
Envy watched the crowd; they didn’t seem convinced.
Blade would need to get them to his side before the shock wore off and another heir stepped up.
Blade knew this.
He pulled out two curved daggers, holding them as he spun slowly, staring into the stands.
“Bow before your new prince. Or die by my blade.”
Tension hung as thick as the smoke in the air, and the sun continued to slowly ascend. Soon the vampires would need to retreat. But Blade had guards at the exits.
He would see them burn if they did not bow.
Next to Camilla, Alexei beat his fist to his chest, then took a knee. His proud voice carried down over the stands.
“Rightful ruler of the Immortal Hearts. I honor thee. Prince Blade.”
A tense pause stretched out. Finally, several other vampires followed suit, offering the vow and kneeling.
Soon the whole arena knelt, their whispers filling the air.
Blade had taken the Immortal Throne.
A crimson-eyed prince now ruled. The first as far as Envy knew.
Envy glanced at Blade, hoping he hadn’t made a mistake by putting a stronger vampire on the throne. Zarus was cruel, conniving, brutal to his own people, but Envy knew how he ruled.
Blade was an unknown, but hopefully he would be the prince his people needed.
Time would certainly tell one way or another.
Hopefully over the next several months, Blade would be too busy establishing his court and his rule, his attention set on finding a consort to join political forces and smooth things over with vampire nobility, to want to start any trouble with demons.
If not…
Wrath would undoubtedly hold Envy responsible for allowing a greater threat to emerge.
They would have to cross that bridge when they came to it.
For now, Envy needed to tend to his wounds before anyone discovered his growing weakness, collect his next clue, take Camilla away from here, then win this gods-damned game.
