Page 57 of Of Flame and Fury
I did mention I’m not a fan of orders, right? And don’t get me started on the stupid title he bequeaths me with.
“Sure,” I mutter. “Only ’cause you asked so nicely.”
I spill everything I know. The god reference made by the winged vamp sends a wave of alarm and bitterness along the room.
My tone firms. “Destiny has promised to keep us safe here as long she can, and with each room we clear, we will help her and us.”
“No,” Uri replies.
Sometimes, I just want to zap the shit out of him. “Uri, am I speaking Japanese? Is there something you didn’t understand? Until we can figure something out, we’re stuck here.”
“Exactly,” he yells. “Stuck in a manor with bumbling catastrophic spells that disorient and maim while we’re tasked with killing malevolent and absurdly strong god-like creatures that hide in the shadows, watching our every move—waiting to strike us down—all due to inadequate peons and a laughable race.”
Collective gasps parrot around the room, and magic detonates like mini-bombs. I gather my fire, not to act, but to protect myself against the first magical blow that’s thrown at Uri.
Genevieve lifts her chin and shuffles forward. “You dare to insult me, my sisters, and our race?” she asks. She’s not yelling. She doesn’t have to. The destructive force that licks her words brand her with danger.
Uri smiles, his mounting anger and viciousness taking aim and firing a low blow. “I possess more than insults, you incompetent whore,” he tells her.
Genevieve doesn’t lose it often. I’ve only seen it once before when I accidentally blew up her ancestral home (these things happen). She loses it now, all over Uri.
Magic as bright as the sun engulfs her, and her voice reverberates around us. “In my home, you are nothing, vampire. In our world, even less. A tiresome, decrepit creature—a mere leach who deserves a good salting.” Her voice drops. “And I’m the so-called peon to stomp her foot on the rancid remains of your carcass.”
My jaw hits the floor. I knew Vieve had it in her to challenge a Grandmaster. I just never thought I’d ever see it. Shayna bolts, as in, now you see her, now you don’t. She was so quiet, I forgot she was right next to me.
A slight breeze skims my cheek. It’s all I feel of Gemini before he and his twin take point between the Grandmaster vamp and the most lethal witch in the Americas.
Chapter Nineteen
“Enough,” Gemini snaps. The force of his growls crumble the remainder of the fireplace. “Johnny Fate is our enemy. Do not misplace your anger on each other.”
“I know who the enemy is,” Uri spits.
“Then shut up,” Gemini fires back.
I don’t remember moving. I’m just there at Gemini’s side, my hands aching with how much magic surges through my core, demanding I protect my mate.
Gemini’s and Uri’s breathing are so pronounced, their chests heave in and out. No one exists except for them, even those rushing to defend their chosen sides.
“Master,” Misha says. “A word, if you will.”
Misha doesn’t wait for a response. He pushes from the one wall that was somewhat spared from the anarchy. I’m not sure how long he was there. Misha only allows you to see him when and if he wants.
His voice is just above a whisper. No matter, it’s sufficient. So is the way he faces off with Uri. “I ask that you stand down.”
The potent force Misha issues with his request strikes like a gavel. He’s not asking. He’s imposing his rule.
To treat his creator as such, especially in front of witnesses andespeciallyleaders of the mystical world, Misha is openly demonstrating his dominance over Uri. If Uri didn’t know Misha was the superior being, he knows now.
Uri relaxes slowly, fighting to maintain his equanimity. “The more I hear, the more I dismiss these stories as nonsense and lies,” he says to Gemini.
He addresses Gemini solely to remind our audience of his position by attempting to demean someone he presumes inferior.
Holy shitballs. Does that ever piss me off.
“Are you calling my mate a liar?” Gemini asks, his voice crisp as frost.
I slam my fists on my hips. “Yeah. You callin’ me a liar?”