I stepped over Sebastian's prone body, pushing open the door. "One down, two to go."
This room was about three times as large as the one in the sub-basement that had held Damian, and filled with tall metal shelving units holding a number of packing cases and archival picture boxes. I knew I had the correct room—I could feel Adrian's presence like a warm, comforting blanket.
An incredibly angry warm, comforting blanket.
I don't suppose you'd like to show a morsel of gratitude that I love you so much that I'm willing to die with you rather than spend my life alone ?
There was no answer, although waves of frustration rolled over me. For some reason, he had refused to merge his mind with mine, no doubt part of his form of protection. I walked past several of the shelves, coming into a section of the room that had been cleared of everything but a table covered in a black and purple cloth, a big, ugly, beigeish statue, and two men, one of whom resembled a pincushion.
Saer spun around as I cleared the last of the shelves, surprise evident for a moment in his eyes before a nasty smile curled his lips. He made an elaborate bow, one hand holding a wickedly sharp, long sword.
I ignored him to look at Adrian. He was skewered to the wall by a number of different sizes and types of swords, blood flowing freely down his body to pool around his feet. His eyes were the color of a blue-tinged full moon, but I judged that all in all, he wasn't in too much danger. The fact that Saer hadn't pulled the swords out acted as a deterrent to the bleeding, and although I knew the blood loss was going to leave Adrian weakened and ravenous, he didn't seem wounded to the point of death. "Hey, sweet cheeks. How are you doing? I mean, other than having all those swords in you?"
Adrian glared at me. "Why did you ignore my command to stay away?"
I put my hands on my hips. Two could play at righteous indignation. "Well, for one thing, we had a plan, and that plan did not include you running off to be a sacrifice. For another, I'm not the command-obeying sort of girl, not when the love of my life is intent on throwing away everything we have just because he's so noble he couldn't fart without first asking everyone's permission."
His eyes grew round with outrage, his irises darkening. "I am not that noble! If I farted—which I do not, because I do not ingest food—I would do so at will, without consideration of anyone's feelings. You are the one who is noble. You refuse to admit defeat, and continue trying to save me when you know that nothing can be done."
I looked pointedly at the five swords piercing his torso. "And which one of us has all the swords sticking in his body?"
His scowl was a thing of beauty to behold. "Hasi, I insist that you leave this room at once."
"No."
"You will do as I say!"
"Nope. Not this time."
"Nell, I will not explain it to you again! There is nothing you can do. Leave now!"
I leaned forward and, carefully avoiding the swords, kissed the tip of his nose. "Make me."
"What?" I thought his eyes were going to bug out.
"I said make me. You can't, huh? That's why I'm here, snuggypants. I'm going to help you cream Saer, and then we'll take care of that curse that I see peeking through the blood."
"I am so glad to know I have not been forgotten in this charming domestic scene," Saer said, a dry edge to his voice. He stood behind me, his arms crossed over his chest, the sword held in one hand.
"Oh, sorry, forgot about you for a moment. Torture, Saer? Was that really necessary?" I glanced over my shoulder to glare at him.
"Not in the least." His smile grew as he gestured with the sword toward Adrian. "But it was very enjoyable."
Fury rose within me—my own fury, not Adrian's. I spun around to face Saer, furious that he could joke about torturing a brother who had spent his entire life bound to pain and anguish. "You know, I think I've had just about enough of you. Say good night, Saer. It's time for you to get what's coming to you."
"And just who do you believe is going to see to my punishment?" He strolled around me, touching me gently with the tip of his sword. I stood still, twisting the ring on my thumb, wondering if it would protect me if he tried to run me through with the sword. "You? A third-rate Charmer who can't even call a charm without weakening herself to the point of insensibility?"
Adrian growled. I have never heard another human being growl the way he did. It was animalistic, deep and intense, a warning so effective it raised the hairs on the back of my neck. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him bracing himself, his hands fisted, his eyes pale with anger.
"You cannot even draw a ward that will last any amount of time," Saer added with a smug look.
"I may not be any great shakes at warding or charming on my own, but you know what? As long as I've got the ring, I am damn near invincible." Saer, making his circuit around me, touched my neck with his sword. I whirled around, batting it out of the way as I held up my hand to show him what I bore. "You have run out of time, little man. Vigor hausi!"
As the words of the draining curse left my lips, I gathered up every ounce of anger, every morsel of fury, every part of my vengeance, and slammed it toward Saer, pulling on Adrian's darkness to give the curse form.
A blinding flash erupted between us as the curse whipped against Saer, knocking the sword from his hand, sending him backward a couple of steps, but before I had a chance to gloat, he leaped forward, backhanding me into the wall six feet behind me.
Wrath like nothing I had ever known filled the room as Adrian roared. I blinked, shaking my head to clear my vision, knowing that something had gone wrong. The curse I'd used was meant to drain Saer of all power. He shouldn't have been able to not only withstand it, let alone have enough strength to knock me across the room.
"So, brother, you are at last driven to action," Saer taunted, snatching up his sword and quickly sliding the tip of the cold metal against my neck. Pain stung my neck as the sharp blade cut into my skin. My vision returned enough to allow me to see Adrian standing beyond him, the swords ripped from his body, a bloody curved Saracen's blade in his hand. "I wondered if even your Beloved would be able to rouse a sense of honor in you. It has been lacking for so long—"
Adrian's blade flashed. Saer's head parted company with his body. The body stood for three seconds, then collapsed onto my legs.
I looked down at the headless ex-vampire, and wondered if now was a good time to scream.
Hasi, my Beloved one, how badly are you injured?
I looked at the face that examined me so anxiously, raising up a shaking hand to touch his blood-soaked shirt. "You cut Saer's head off?"
"Yes. He was going to kill you. Lift your chin and let me look at your wound."
"That's it? You just cut his head off?" I stared at Adrian for a second, then peered down to where Saer's body still lay across my shins. His head had rolled to a corner, coming to rest in the pool of Adrian's spilled blood.
"Yes, that's it. Hasi, if you would just lift your chin, I will be able to see to your injury."
I pulled my gaze back to his dear, adorable face. His eyes were clear blue, concern and love warming them. "That's… it? You cut his head off, and wham, bam, no more Saer? No more torment? No more threat of him trying to use Damian? It's over?"
It is over, Nell. You are bleeding. You must allow me to see to you.