Into the Fire
Page 22

 Jeaniene Frost

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“Wait, I can’t kill him,” he said, as if remembering something. “Ian made me swear not to kill anyone tonight.”
“I release you from that vow!” Ian shouted.
“Oh, but I have a real problem,” Vlad said with merciless mockery. “In fact, it’s like a sickness for me, right?”
“I was wrong!” Ian yelled. “Not a sickness, it’s a bloody marvelous gift. Now, practice that gift before I’m nothing more than a silver-pronged husk!”
Vlad shot a satisfied glance down at him. “Those roots still working their way through you, are they? That must be painful. What did you say you wanted me to do again?”
“Kill him! Kill him, for the love of God, kill him!” Ian roared. “Leila, poppet, don’t just stand there, do something!”
I doubted Vlad would let the spell finish its lethal work, and after all Ian’s taunts, incitements, and tricks, he deserved some payback. Hadn’t I told Ian that if he kept pushing Vlad, he’d be sorry?
“Oh, I can’t reason with him when he’s like this,” I said. “Like you said, sometimes he can’t even fake being sane.”
Vlad gave me an appreciative grin, but when Ian’s new scream sounded a lot more agonized, he clenched his fist and Blackstone exploded. I wished there had been another way to stop the spell, yet it seemed I was the only one regretting Blackstone’s necessary death.
“Finally,” Ian said, sounding exhausted and relieved.
A wolfish smile curled Vlad’s mouth. “It appears you’re right—I simply can’t go an entire day without murdering someone.”
“Aren’t you amusing?” Ian replied in a sullen tone. “And now that you and the Mrs. have had your fun, perhaps you can assist me. These nasty little roots have speared me in more places than even someone with my tastes can enjoy.”
I leaned over the rim of the pit. In addition to the many roots that had worked their way through Ian, one looked to be very close to his heart. The roots had stopped moving, though, and the mist that had acted as an indestructible lid had started to dissipate. Ian was right; Blackstone’s spell had died along with him, although it would be tricky getting Ian out with all that silver stuck in him.
Ian must have guessed what I was thinking because he said, “You’ll need to melt the silver on both sides so I can pull the remaining pieces out.”
I put my hand into the mist, testing to make sure that I could penetrate it. Yep, what was left wasn’t that impenetrable shell anymore. Now it just felt sticky, like layers of cobwebs.
“Not so fast.” Vlad’s hard tone drew my attention back to him, and I paused instead of jumping into the pit. “We have some things to sort out first.”
Ian let out a pained noise. “More games?”
“No games.” Vlad walked around the edge of the pit like a predator circling its prey. “You’ve held our need for you over our heads ever since Mencheres forced you to help us, but tonight proves that you need us, too. So no more half truths, tests, or incessant taunts. If I get you out of that pit, you agree to swear to be our ally in full.”
Ian glared up at us. “And if I don’t? You’ll break your vow to Mencheres by killing me?”
“He wouldn’t have to,” I said, also sick of seeing Ian dangle both of us from a metaphorical hook. “If we leave you, someone from that magical monstrosity of a building will find you, and since there’s a very dead earth mage next to you, I don’t think it will go over well.”
Ian gave me a dirty look. “Very cruel, poppet. Aren’t you the perfect mate for him?”
“She is,” Vlad said at once. “And I intend for us to remain together for a very long time. Now, do we have a true partnership, or do we leave you here to rot?”
Ian was silent for so long, I started to worry about being caught by the same people I’d just taunted Ian about.
“There are some things I can’t help,” Ian finally said. “They’re as much a part of me as your fire is to you, Tepesh.”
Vlad gave an oblique shrug. “I can understand that. But swear to change what you do have control over, and swear it on your love for Mencheres.”
Ian made a wistful noise. “I was so hoping you’d tell me to swear it on my honor.”
Vlad let out a bark of laughter. “Not in this lifetime.”
“Very well.” Ian bowed as much as the silver roots pinning him would allow. “On my love for Mencheres, I swear that I will honor both you and Leila as my true partners, and I will keep my insolence, trickiness, filthiness, and general knavery to as much a minimum as I can manage.”
“That was beautiful,” an unfamiliar voice said while ironic applause started behind us.
I whirled, ripping my glove off. Vlad’s hands were already lit with flames, and only Ian’s yell of “Stop, it’s Ashael!” kept us from flinging whips and streams of fire at the stranger who’d somehow managed to sneak up on us.
A tall, African-American man stared at us. His ebony suit and snow-white shirt were formal enough to wear to a ball, and he showed a marked lack of concern as he looked at Ian, pronged through with silver in a pit, then at the flames coating Vlad’s hands, and finally at the electricity-infused whip that dangled from my right hand.
“Did I come at a bad time?” Ashael asked in a dry voice.
Chapter 14
“You came five minutes too late,” Ian said, sounding very put out. “A little earlier, and these two wouldn’t have wrangled an oath out of me that I know I’ll regret.”