“Mmm.” He licked her lips, but she didn’t move. “Don’t look so scared, little dove. You’ll be begging me for more by the time I’m done with you.”
He released her and was out the door in a flash. Mina lifted her legs and curled into a ball, the tears flowing hot and steady now. Ignoring the pain of her body, she coiled around that hope still cradled to her chest. A hope that felt small and crushed and barely breathing. But it was there all the same. Just like the tiniest of whispers telling her to hold on, for Izzy, for herself, for Mikhail.
So she did.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The afternoon crowd at Boar’s Head was a raucous one. The place looked as if it had seen its fair share of brawls that had ended in bloodshed. The bartender was built like a bull, his nose broken one too many times. The tabletops were nicked and stained from years of use, the chairs and stools mismatched and well-worn. Yuri had said this was the place where no one would care who they were or why they were there. He seemed to be right. Their serving wench had asked for their order without casting them a second glance. Except for Riker, whose fierce disposition radiated danger even more than the gruesome scar running beyond his patched eye.
It had been a while since Mikhail had been in a pub in a city the size of Izeling. Korinth was equally as large. A good place for strangers to get lost. Perfect for his group, tucked in the back-corner booth.
Mikhail guzzled the rest of his ale, still watching the door for signs of Yuri. He’d clenched his jaw so tight for so long, his teeth ached. His need to get to Mina made him want to crawl right out of his skin and barrel toward Izeling Tower, despite his head telling him to be smart and calculated. The king would have his tower well-guarded, so Mikhail was forced to sit here and glower at every man who laughed at a joke with comrades when he was dying a slow, torturous death inside.
Gregoravich sat next to him with Nikolai and Sienna across from him and Riker in the chair at the end of the booth. Dane had decided to remain in the woods behind Izeling Tower. Even in human form, his wolf scent would set off any Legionnaires they came across in the city. The rest of the Elite scattered and milled in pairs either in the pub or on the street. Though Izeling was the kind of place where people didn’t bother foreigners, they certainly might take note of a large group of lethal-looking vampires and inform the king at the tower sitting above the city.
“So how in the world did you get a guardsman who was born and raised in Izeling?” asked Nikolai, his blond hair falling forward and concealing his wary look around the room. Sienna leaned her head on his shoulder.
A serving wench bumped the next table over, where four rough-looking working men enjoyed their pints. The hardest of the bunch clapped a hand to her hip and pulled her in his lap with a bawdy remark.
“Git off, Dirk!” she slapped him but laughed when she jostled off him.
“Yuri had…family troubles with the crown. So he headed east, where he heard of a guard independent of the throne. He’s a resourceful man, so he found us.”
Gregoravich huffed. “Every one of the Bloodguard has had troubles with the crown.”
“Not just the Bloodguard. Every one of us at this table,” said Riker. A rare moment, since he hardly spoke at all. His troubles had done more than scar his body and give him a noticeable limp. They’d done serious damage to his psyche. But that’s exactly what had happened to them all.
“Aye,” agreed Mikhail. “It’s about time to even the scales.”
Sienna sat up. “As long as we have a well-conceived plan. The wild emotions humming off you men at this table are unsettling me more than I already am. And they’re bound to make you all do stupid things if you’re not careful.”
Nikolai quirked a smile at her.
“Don’t even give me that look. You’re the worst. No one is to go off half cocked.”
“I’ll be fully cocked when I do,” Nikolai whispered under his breath.
“Hush.” She jabbed him with her elbow, then swept her green gaze from one to the next. “We all know the depths to which the queen and her son will go to win. We must tread carefully.” She compressed her lips together in thought for a moment. “That being said…I need to get into that castle as soon as possible.”
“Bloody hell, woman.” Nikolai shed his cavalier demeanor. “The plan was to get Mina out and bring her to you. Not the other way around. You want me just to toss my woman into the devil’s den?”
She turned to him, intimately close. “Nikolai. You don’t understand. I must get to her as soon as possible. I can’t explain it.” She glanced at them all. “I can’t tell any of you how I know. Only that it’s dire. I can’t wait.” Her voice shook with brittle tension. “It must be soon.”
Her eyes flashed gold, then simmered to their cool shade of green again. Mikhail exchanged a glance with Gregory. Mikhail had expected another protest from Nikolai, who held her hand in her lap.
“If you go, then I go.”
“We’ll all go,” said Mikhail. “Whoever is willing. The rest can wait for the army.”
Gregory slung back his tankard of ale and pounded it on the table. “Captain, you’re a dumb son of a bitch sometimes.”
“What?” Mikhail was taken aback.
The big man smiled wide. “Who the fuck here is not going to be willing to go into hell with you if you ask?” Then he remembered Sienna. “Pardon, my lady.”
“No need.” She smiled.
Riker, ever somber, nodded to the door. “I believe it’s time to go to hell, gentlemen.”
Yuri stepped inside long enough to capture Mikhail’s eye and gesture toward the street.
“So it is.” Mikhail’s pulse pounded faster.
Soon, Mina.
The streets teemed with people shuffling here and there on a late afternoon. What little sun was left was covered by wintry clouds. No snow in the air, but the biting wind of the north was ever constant. Mikhail followed Yuri up ahead, who turned down an alley off to the left behind a street vendor with a cart, his scraggly son yelling, “Meat pies! Hot ’n’ fresh!”
Not for the first time, Mikhail wondered why no one batted an eye at so many vampires who weren’t the king’s Legionnaires wandering these streets of a human tenement neighborhood. Then again, he’d forgotten about the many rogue vampires who roamed Korinth, dealing with all manner of men in the underground black markets.
Yuri strode not far in front of them, finally ducking into…a brothel? A run-down one at that. As Mikhail crossed the threshold, he caught the small, square placard hammered into the wall beside the doorframe—black with a red crown. The universal sign that they serviced vampires looking for blood as well as flesh. A slip of a young woman in her corset and an underskirt led a man up a narrow staircase. Yuri had stepped into a dark parlor on the right.