“You don’t get to tell me to go home.” He starts to circle around behind me, and I know something is coming, can feel it in my bones.
But I’m still not backing down from this man. I can’t. More, I won’t. Instead, I reach for my gargoyle. For the shiny platinum thread that has kept me safe for days now.
“You don’t get to tell me anything,” he continues.
I turn my head so I can track his movements. Just because I refuse to back down to him doesn’t mean I’d ever let him out of my sight—especially when he’s this close. “I feel exactly the same way, Cyrus.” I deliberately use his name just to piss him off.
It works, his voice turning to ice as he says, “You know we can’t both win, right, Grace?”
I would congratulate myself for getting under his skin, but there’s something in his tone that tells me I pissed him off too much. Something that puts me on high alert and has me pulling on the platinum thread. I start to shift even though I’m exhausted and I know it will cost me. But I’m too worn out; my gargoyle is sluggish.
And that’s when Cyrus strikes, fangs flashing a millisecond before he sinks them into my neck, right over my carotid artery.
122
You’re So Jelly
I scream as the world goes completely out of control, the ground shaking so hard that I swear it’s going to tear itself apart. And then I scream again.
I can’t help it. The pain is overwhelming, so different than when Jaxon bites me that I can barely comprehend what’s happening.
“Stop!” I scream, shoving Cyrus off as I desperately try to complete my shift.
But I can’t transform, my body already moving beyond my control as the pain starts shooting down my arms, turning my legs weak and my blood to fire.
Oh God, it hurts. It hurts.
Tears bloom in my eyes, but I blink them back as I push at Cyrus, desperate to get him off me. But he’s already off, already pulling away. I don’t understand how that’s possible when the agony inside me is only getting worse.
And that’s when it hits me. He’s not drinking my blood like Jaxon did. All Cyrus did was bite me, and it’s that bite that burns like the surface of the sun.
Venom.
Cyrus turns to the crowd, his arms wide, and announces in a bellowing voice that carries in the silence like a lone bell, “Our little gargoyle has admitted she cheated. We all saw it. And the penalty for cheating the Trials is death, is it not?” He holds the arena in the palm of his hand. “How dare she try to subvert our traditions, our rules. She is not one of us and never will be.”
And on that final note, he turns back to me just as a loud tearing noise rends the air. Suddenly the crowd sounds much louder, even though the ground has finally stopped shaking. Which is good, I register, as everything starts to shut down inside me, because my legs are giving way.
I start to crumple, brace myself for the impact of the ground and whatever else will come from Cyrus when I’m finally lying there defenseless.
But I never hit the ground, because just as suddenly as Cyrus struck, Hudson is here, beside me. Catching me.
Like I was yesterday’s trash, Cyrus has already turned and walked away. I stare at his tall form stalking across the field, and I wonder if anyone will ever challenge this brutal vampire. How much longer until the entire world is on its knees before him? How na?ve was I to think I could temper his reign? Me. A tiny half-human gargoyle.
Hudson scoops me up into his arms, his face ravaged with a fear and rage like I’ve never seen from him before. “Grace!” he shouts hoarsely. “Grace, hang on.”
There’s nothing removed about him now. Nothing sardonic or defensive or even snarky at all. And I suddenly realize, even through the pain, that I might be looking at the real Hudson for the very first time.
I like what I see. Except…the sudden tears in his blue eyes only make them look deeper.
I reach a hand up and brush them away. “Hey, it’s okay,” I tell him even though I know it’s not. “Don’t do that.”
I know this is bad, even without Hudson’s tears. It’s not like it’s exactly a surprise as pain and burning continue to spread through every part of my body. It doesn’t mean I’m not sad, though. I was looking forward to getting to know him when he wasn’t in my head.
I was looking forward to a lot of things.
I glance over to where Jaxon and Macy are trying to get to me. They’re halfway across the field, but Jaxon is struggling—I can’t imagine what it must have taken for him to rip that magical dome apart, especially as depleted as he already was.