‘“What happened to standing together?”
‘“Fucksakes, open your eyes, Chloe,” I snarled.
‘“I don’t—”
‘“We’re pinned down. Cliffs at our backs and God knows what coming at our front. Most of the folk in this company can’t fight worth a damn, and the ones who can won’t be halfway enough. I’ve had nothing to smoke for days. And Danton won’t strike until it’s night. All his power, all his strength brought to bear. Odds are about perfect we’re all going to die.”
‘She licked at dry lips, glancing down the hill. “Do you truly think we’ve no hope?”
‘“Keep Dior close,” I repeated. “You see a break, fucking run.”
‘Chloe chewed her lip, fear finally breaking through that rime of eternal optimism. She’d always been a believer. Always felt we were meant for greater things. And swallowing hard, she nodded to herself, slipped her gauntlet off her hand and offered me her wrist.
‘“… Here, then.”
‘My jaw clenched. Pupils dilating. “What the hell are you doing?”
‘“I know it’s a sin,” she breathed, trembling. “But I’ve given seventeen years of my life to this, and the whole empire hangs in the balance of it. So Gabe, if you need the strength …”
‘My fangs were bright and sharp against my lips. My heart suddenly dashing itself against my ribs so hard it made me gasp. My veins were fire, that thirst rising on crimson wings – to have it offered freely when it was all I could do to stop myself just taking it …
‘“Chloe … get away from me …”
‘“Gabriel, I—”
‘“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!”
‘She stumbled back as I roared, her mouth open in shock. I knew what I must look like – eyes flooded red, canines flashing, the thing in me so close to breaking loose, I could feel it clawing through my skin. But not here. Not like this. I’d promised.
‘Chloe stood aghast as I backed away. She seemed smaller then, closer to the girl I’d once known. There was still fire in her eyes. Faith. Fury. But there was fear now too – the fear that comes with knowing the world is much bigger than you could ever be, and that there are simply some truths you’ll never understand.
‘“I’m sorry, Gabe,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this. I’m sorry I took you from Astrid and Patience. I should never have done that.” Hanging her head, she slipped her leather gauntlet back on. “There are a lot of things I shouldn’t have done, I suppose. But I did them all for the best. Because I believed. In Dior. In you. And I still do. There is nothing, nothing I will not do to see this done.”
‘Staring towards the falling sun, she sighed.
‘“But I’m sorry.”
‘I closed my eyes, saying nothing as she walked away. The beast in me crashed against its bars, howling for me to follow, to take, to swallow, just one mouthful, just one fucking drop. And the awful thing of it was, I knew deep down Chloe wasn’t a fool to offer what she had – that I was weak and starving, and I’d need all my strength if ever I hoped to make it through this night alive, let alone best a Prince of Forever. But I’d made a vow. A promise whispered in the dark, cold as tombs and black as hell. Never again.
‘Never. Again.’
Jean-Fran?ois ceased his writing, dipped his quill into the ink at his side.
‘A promise to whom, Silversaint?’
But Gabriel only shook his head.
‘Patience, coldblood.’
XV
A PRINCE OF FOREVER
‘WE PREPARED AS best we could in the time we had. Which is to say, terribly.
‘I’d fought a half-dozen sieges before, but never with so little. We had holy water in abundance, and that was welcome news. An elaborate pump ran down the cliff to the depths of the Volta, used by the monks for their daily needs. Bellamy turned the crank as fast as he was able, while Rafa called down blessings on the water, and the courtyard fountains besides. I’d found a little chymist’s workshop in the distillery, scattered phials of salpêtre and sulphur – enough to mix up a few handfuls of black ignis, at least.
‘Saoirse hauled barrels and bottles up from the distillery below. It smote my black and shrivelled heart to waste liquor as sharp as this, even if it was fucking vodka. But still, we soaked the battlements and forecourt around the gates, sluicing the stone with the stink of high-grade spirits, adding a sprinkle of sawdust from the monastery’s coopery for punch. We used all they had, emptying every drop. And yet, I saved myself a single bottle, downing it all to dull the pain of my ever-growing thirst.
‘The dark sun was setting now, only a few minutes of feeble light left before night fell like a headsman’s blade. I glanced around the company, broken glass in my belly. Saoirse and Rafa looked steady, Bellamy and Chloe a little shaky. Dior was stone.
‘“Right,” I said. “If that Liathe bitch spat any kind of truth, Danton has gathered every wretched for miles to his side. They’ll go where their bloodlord wills them, which means they won’t come mindlessly this time. Saoirse, you and I keep them off the walls as long as we’re able. But when they break through, and they will, Bellamy lights the spirits with his bow, and we fall back to the cathedral. It’s not holy ground, but most of the windows are too narrow to crawl through, and there’s only two passages in and out.”
‘Dior chewed a ragged fingernail, then spat. “Maggot trap.”
‘“You what?” I asked.
‘“It’s a grift I thought up with my friends back in Lashaame,” the boy mumbled. “You get a pretty girl, have her flash around a heavy purse in a seedy taverne, leave after one drink. Some prick’s bound to follow with intent of relieving her of her coin, probably more besides. But the girl leads the fellow down a blind alley, where you and your crew are waiting. And you roll him hard and take everything he’s got, then go to sleep content you stomped a bastard who deserved it.” Dior shrugged. “I called it a maggot trap.”
‘“And you did this for recreation?” Rafa asked.
‘“We did it to eat. But there’s nothing wrong with enjoying your job.”
‘“In military terms, it’s called a bottleneck,” I said.
‘The boy sniffed. “My name’s better.”
‘“As you like it.” I sighed, waved to the circular building behind us. “Now, bad news is, after dousing the battlements, there was only enough vodka left to soak one passage into the cathedral. The westward one. Good news is, in a nice enclosed space like that and with time to evaporate, spirits that strong will burn like a trencherman’s fart in a candleshop. So when you fall back, fall back through the westward doors. The wretched will follow. And Dior will be waiting with the spark.”
‘“And after that?” Chloe asked.
‘“With fortune, we thin their number enough for me to get my hands on Dant—”
‘I gasped, bending double as a spasm of pain ripped through my belly. I could feel my nails stirring at the tips of my fingers, my fangs in my gums. The thirst was all I knew for a moment – the warmth, the scent of the company around me, the thudding pulse of that luscious, hot crimson beating just below their skin …