“Screw…and…you.” Sleep was sounding fucking awesome right about now.
He grunted, the sound one of irritation, but instead of making another threat, he moved, and I felt the brush of cold wind again as he did so. Sounds of disjointed music. Mysticals laughing. Then my ears heard the most beautiful sound, as close as I was to passing out right now.
Gold shone behind my closed lids as we slowed, and I heard Antonio shouting a distance away, “She is here somewhere!” The glowing behind my eyes increased. “So fucking help me, Cahal, if my daughter is fucking hurt in your damn camp!”
I felt King Zeller stiffen, especially, at the ‘daughter’ comment, but he didn’t stop moving toward the glow, the brightness only increasing.
“Antonio, calm down,” another deep voice stated calmly, soothingly, so quietly I barely heard it. “I’ve got people searching everywhere. If she’s here, we’ll find her.”
“I will not calm down! I can’t fucking track her!” A pause, then he continued shouting, “Goddamn it, I heard her fucking scream over the cell!”
I felt King Zeller’s chest expand, then the brush of wind once more as he used his speed. He stopped abruptly next to what could only be Antonio, the golden light was so bright. But just as suddenly, the light was gone. Not sure if I could, but needing to try, I pried my eyes open a bit at a time. All I could manage was halfway, but I still saw we were inside another tent, the decor black and mauve.
The jaws of Antonio and the man who had to be Elder Zeller, since Antonio had called him Cahal, were slightly gaping as they stared at us less than two feet away.
Antonio blinked grandly, then his eyes instantly flittered down my body, which wasn’t pretty at the present time, assessing every injury that wasn’t healing from blood loss and the use of the silver knife. And he started glowing — oddly this gold was a bit different, actually furious in its dimness — his expression instantly turning fierce, fists clenching. I wasn’t sure he was even able to speak, his jaw was clenched so hard, eyes toward the opened tent flap.
Elder Zeller, who was just as big as his damn asshole son, asked, “Ezra, who did this to her?”
I snorted, the sound more of a wheeze. “King Zeller,” asshole, “did.” I lifted my fingers in Antonio’s direction, unable to lift my arms even if I felt peaceful. “Please…take me.”
Both Elder Zeller and Antonio stared above my head at King Zeller, unspeaking and unmoving, their faces utterly blank, for at least a good minute.
“Get…me out…of his…arms,” I rasped harshly. “Now…Antonio.” My lips lifted cruelly. “Hey, there’s…someone I hate…more than you…now.”
Antonio jolted out of his silence, his eyes still on King Zeller. “You did this to Queen Ruckler?”
“Yes,” he stated simply.
“Why?” Antonio’s expression was turning fierce again, beginning to glow that dim color.
“I didn’t know her name.” He shrugged, making me move up and down in his arms. “I thought she was a traitor sneaking into camp.” No apology, no remorse.
“See,” I whispered. “Definitely…more hateable.” My lids started to drop further. “If you…aren’t going…to take me from…him, then…at least…heal me.”
Antonio lurched forward, eyes flying to me. “Right. Sorry, Lil.” His glowing hands went to two different wounds, even as he glared up at King Zeller. “You are very lucky you didn’t kill her.” His tone was laced with all types of silent threats, golden eyes staring unflinchingly into King Zeller’s green ones. “Very fucking lucky.”
King Zeller did not comment, continuing to hold me as Antonio worked, and gifting me with tranquility.
Elder Zeller moved forward, standing next to my legs, in a sense between his son and Antonio, as he ran a hand over his face. “Antonio, why the hell was she at King Shadow tonight?” Unannounced and sneaking around, he didn’t say, but it was very much implied by his stare.
“Because of Isa,” Antonio said quietly, studying a particularly vicious wound as he healed it.
Elder Zeller asked, “Who’s Isa?”
King Zeller broke his silence. “Queen Ruckler rambled something about her earlier.”
“My adopted…daughter,” I blinked slowly, “She’s…Vampire.”
I felt, and saw, both King Zeller and Elder Zeller stiffen.
Antonio bent, ignoring their reaction, to work on another wound on my lower back. “My granddaughter, Isadora Marie Ruckler, is three months old. And a Vampire.” His healing hands glowed brighter. “At our old camp, everyone knew and respected Lily, so no one hassled her about Isa.” He blinked. “Well, there was this one asshole who did, but Lily broke damn near every bone in his body after a few of his comments, and he shut up then.”