Love Me to Death (Underveil, #1)

“Behind you,” Elena shouted as Borya raised his staff again.

Uza rolled her eyes and met his bolt with her palm, shooting it back at him, this time directing the energy right back at him, setting his robes on fire. “Liar, liar, pants on fire!” She giggled. “I’ve always wanted to say that for realz.”

Borya raised his staff over his head, and an amazing thing happened. Clouds formed and rain poured down, but only on the balcony. The cats howled and hunkered down as any remaining cinders were doused along with Borya’s robes. That rumor that cats don’t like water? Totally true. Pretty much simultaneously, they busted out of their pelts and stretched into rain-slicked naked men.

“Oh, hallelujah,” Uza squealed, deflecting a bolt from Borya. “Almost as good as mud-wrestling. Huh, Ellie Baby?”

The shifters maintained defensive stances toward the Slayers stationed around the platform, who made no move to advance.

As Uza and Borya exchanged lightning bolts, Fydor climbed off the platform and slunk out of sight behind them. Elena strained to see behind her, but was bound too tightly. Where had he gone, and where the hell was Aleksi?

She relaxed slightly, relieved that at least for these few moments, the Slayers were making no offensive moves. Still, the cat shifters remained crouched, ready to strike. Except one. The big guy with the beard who doubled as the gold Persian broke ranks and approached them, long claws out. Maybe he was going to try to unbind him.

As he passed Elena, she heard a low, rumbling, predatory growl, and her fight-or-flight instinct flew in to full flight mode. Something was wrong—well, more wrong. Wrong was relative when tied up to be burned to death.

He stopped when he got to Nik and raised his razor claws to throat level.

“Uza!” Elena shouted.

“Bad kitty!” She zapped him, and he crumbled to a ball, writhing in pain.

The remaining shifters hissed and growled at him as he muttered about rising up, picking the wrong twin to worship, and the pitfalls of serving ugly old bats. Well, that answered the question about who had tipped off the creatures that met them at the airport.

“We have to get free,” Nik said. “Who, other than the Slayer that bound us, has the key? Where’s the one you used to free me?”

The Slayer Borya had zapped was the one who’d locked the shackles, and he was unconscious, out of reach. Her key was probably at Vlad’s castle. Once she’d used it to free Nik, she’d forgotten about it. It was probably lying on the floor of the bathroom or something like a discarded bath towel. “I don’t know.”

He closed his eyes and thumped his head on the post behind him.

“A-3! Direct hit!” Uza shouted. Borya howled and clutched his charred arm. “You’re doing it wrong, brother, you’re supposed to say, ‘You sunk my battleship!’”

Like a dropped glass bowl, a fissure opened in the protective shield, probably as a result of Borya’s injury. Below, the gathered armies shouted and mobilized.

Screaming came from somewhere in the building below as Vlad, along with Ricardo, Stefan, and Fee materialized on the top of the wall in front of the platform.

“Sorry we’re late,” the vampire said with a wink. “Traffic was a nightmare.”

More screaming below.

“You forgot something, Elena.” Vlad held up the key, and she slumped against the post with relief. They might live through this after all.

He inserted the key in the lock of one of Tatiana’s shackles. “Ladies first,” he said.

While Borya and Uzana duked it out, blasting each other and yelling insults, the cat shifters kept guard on the platform, the Slayers stood completely still, Ricardo climbed off the platform, and Fee approached Elena.

Her movements were fluid and graceful. Elena took a deep breath through her nose. The floral scent was intoxicating. “I brought you something,” she said.

“You’re next Elena.” Vlad was unlocking the only remaining shackle on Queen Tatiana’s ankle.

Still, no one made a move to either attack or defend. It was a stand off for something nobody really wanted—a cause no one believed in. This was Borya’s and Fydor’s war. Not a war of the Underveil.

Fee held up a vial of green liquid. “This will react to my blood in your body. It will make the elf ore useless against your powers.”

“You mean the plug they put in my arm?”

She uncapped the bottle and held it to Elena’s lips. “Yes. And the chains as well.” She poured the liquid in Elena’s mouth. “Swallow.”

It was bitter. She shuddered as Fee took a step back. Concentrating on the spot next to her, Elena attempted to teleport out of the shackles. “It didn’t work.”

While Stefan escorted Queen Tatiana off the platform, Vlad unlocked the first cuff.

“Unfortunately, there is a delay,” Fee explained.

“How long?”

The second cuff fell away, and she rubbed her wrists while he worked on her ankles.

“I don’t know. It’s new.” She smiled. “I made it special for this event.”

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