Chapter 3
I carried Catherine to the cellar exit. The stairway was blocked.
Over a dozen people stood crammed in the narrow passage, wielding an assortment of weapons: longswords, crossbows, and a few holy water sprayers.
They were Hunters.
The bald man at the front wore a badge on his chest. When he saw Catherine limp and dying in my arms, the corner of his mouth curled into a smug grin.
"Your Highness, you shouldn't have come here," Arthur's voice came from behind me.
He was clutching his injured chest, propped up between two men in the middle of the passage. Blood covered his face, but it couldn't hide the satisfaction in his eyes.
"You are the Crown's only heir," he spat blood, his words slurred through the gap in his teeth. "Your status and your dignity shouldn't be wasted sheltering a wanted monster."
"Arthur, you're missing two front teeth. You realize you're whistling when you talk, right?" I taunted.
His expression froze for a beat.
"Your Highness." Helen squeezed out from behind the Hunters, two streaks of tears already painted on her face.
The woman put on quite a show: lashes trembling, nostrils pinkening, tears rolling down her cheeks right on cue.
"Your Highness, you don't understand. She's a vampire." Helen's voice quavered. "Arthur nearly died when he found out. He didn't turn her in for the money. He did it to protect the people of Longvale."
"Mm," I nodded. "So protecting the people means selling her by the ounce on the black market?"
Helen's face went rigid.
Arthur's face darkened, "Your Highness, you don't have the full picture."
"That black market receipt in your pocket. Whose signature is on it?" I asked.
His hand flew instinctively to his chest.
That gesture said more than any excuse ever could.
"Put her down," the bald Hunter raised his crossbow, the bolt aimed squarely at Catherine's forehead. "We don't want trouble with the Crown, but the kill order outranks royal authority."
"Are you telling me what to do?" I asked.
He sneered, "Your Highness, this isn't the palace. Privilege doesn't work here."
I glanced down at Catherine in my arms. Her breathing was growing shallower by the second, the ashen decay now past her thighs.
I had no time to waste on these people.
I freed one hand.
Helen was standing right at my side.
I backhanded her across the face. She flew sideways and crashed into a pile of debris in the corner. Broken glass dug into her cheek and throat, blood streaming down past her collar.
"My face. My face!" Helen shouted.
Arthur cried out and bent to grab a crossbow.
My heel came down on his right arm.
The bone cracked.
He dropped to his knees, cradling his broken arm, his howls ricocheting off the stone walls for a long time before fading.
The tip of my cane pressed against the bald Hunter's nose, "I am taking her out of here. If anyone tries to stop me, I'll have the Royal Guard level this abbey with all of you in it."
The cane pushed forward an inch.
The bridge of his nose gave a soft crunch.
He glanced quickly at the soldiers flooding in from the passage behind me, then back at the bloodied cane in my hand.
Every weapon lowered.
The passage cleared.
I walked through, stepping on the thick layer of scattered bills. Soaked in blood, they squelched underfoot.
The car door was already open.
I laid Catherine on the back seat. Her heartbeat stuttered for half a beat.
"Drive. Hospital. Run every light," I commanded.
Sirens screamed through the blizzard as the convoy vanished into the storm.