I slowly move the blade away from his skin. “Together, we’re a match for anything.”
“That’s my Myla.” He tosses the dagger across the floor. “I refuse the bargain.”
Sakura purses her lips into a pout. “What a pity.” She touches the skin around her eyes. “See this ugly blue color in my flesh? It means that I’m not getting enough blood, and I haven’t ever since I was forced to hide out in Hell. Aldred used to being me fresh goodies to eat, but he’s been gone these past three years. I’d hoped you’d take his place.”
Lincoln slowly rises to his feet and pulls his baculum from his belt. “Sorry to have spoiled your plans.”
I rise to stand beside him, freeing my baculum rod from its holster. “So, what will you do now?”
“Now?” She raises her arms above her head. “The personal hell is over. Congratulations, King Lincoln, you have passed.”
I look around the room. “Where’s the Veil of Fire? Why aren’t we moving on?”
“Why, I’m using my magic to keep you here, of course.”
Lincoln’s voice lowers an octave. “And why would you do that?”
“Simple. I plan to drink you both dry.”
Fast as lightning, Sakura bursts forward, the long red nails on her right hand digging deep into my neck. With a gasp, I realize that her fingers run in a puncture line right along my jugular vein. Within an instant, my body turns blissfully immobile. There’s no fear at all as I realize what should be a disturbing truth: Sakura’s drawing out my life’s blood through her nails. It takes a concerted effort to swing my gaze over toward Lincoln. His eyes flutter, half-closed, and his features lie slack. Sakura’s nails dig into his neck, too.
“That’s right,” coos Sakura. “You both want me to consume your blood. You’ve always wanted this. Now, wait quietly. It will all be over soon.”
My head swims in a dream-like haze. It would be so easy to stand here, quiet and peaceful, while Sakura ends all my pain. I angle my head down, the better to give her access to my vein.
That’s when I see it.
My gaze runs across my wrist, and the image of a screaming Maxon fills the Looking Glass. His features are twisted with anguish as his tiny hands claw at the walls surrounding him. Shock and worry charge my body with alarm. A single thought overwhelms my mind.
This bitch is going down.
“Come here,” I whisper.
Sakura steps toward me. “You have something to say?”
My voice is barely audible. I take care to roll my eyes back into my skull. “Yes, come closer.”
Sakura moves within a few inches of me, a smug grin rounding her painted mouth. “What, oh Great Scala?” She puts extra sarcastic emphasis on the word ‘great.’
I curl forward, pounding my forehead into her skull. “That.”
Sakura tumbles backward, her fingernails falling away from both Lincoln and me. I hop to my feet and kick her once in the chest, hard. Sakura goes flying across the room, her back slamming into the far wall. On instinct, I press my hand to my neck. The puncture holes ooze a bit of blood, but it isn’t too terrible.
Beside me, Lincoln leaps to his feet and charges after Sakura, his baculum ignited as a short-sword. He slams his weapon down, but Sakura moves with preternatural speed, barely avoiding each of his strikes.
Sakura reaches forward, her nails dripping with blood. “Come to me, my sister!”
Across the floor, the teapot shakes, thin tendrils of smoke winding from its nozzle. The pause in movement allows Lincoln to land a serious strike on Sakura’s upper arm. She hisses with pain.
“Get rid of that damned thing, Myla!” cries Lincoln.
I race toward the teapot, grip it tightly and then toss it outside. The moment the object passes the opened doorway, the air rends with an ear-shattering boom.
Sakura races for the door. “Sister! My Sister!”
As the blood witch rushes past me, I knee her in the gut, making her crumple over onto the floor. My tail juts forward, wrapping her ankles tightly to prevent her escape. Sakura struggles, twisting from side to side, trying to free her legs. Her injured arm leaves a trail of blood across the wooden floor.
“Don’t waste your last moments trying to escape,” I warn her. “My tail’s held down much bigger demons than you.”
Lincoln steps to my side, his baculum still ignited as a short-sword. “Any last words?”
Sakura spits at him and misses her mark.
“I’ll take that as a no,” says Lincoln. He raises his weapon high above his head, swinging it down in a graceful arc. The angelfire blade is about to slice through Sakura’s chest when another explosion sounds, knocking us both off our feet. I lose my grip on Sakura.