Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 54931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 275(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 275(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
It lands hard, smashing up the wood below and to my surprise, falling straight through the floor. I frown, looking down into the broken floor, where a passageway seems to lead beneath the room. I kick aside the carpet at the foot of the bed and find a trap door. “Let’s go,” I say, motioning for Kato to follow me.
We jump down into the corridor, landing on hard stone that muffles the sound of the gunfight raging behind us. I move quickly through the tunnel, weapon at the ready as I take every twist and turn. We reach a dead end after a short time, but I see the faint outline of light above me. I push up and meet resistance, but the ceiling moves up a fraction. Another trap door.
“Help me,” I call to Kato, who joins me in pushing.
We shove with all our might and a large weight shifts above us, allowing us to open the trapdoor fully now. I jump up through the opening into a room I instantly recognize. My brother’s room.
“Prince!” calls Kato.
I flinch back instinctively as I roll into the room, narrowly dodging the steel that slices the air just by my face.
Titus.
Two elite royal guards--marked by the insignias on their high collars--stand guard on the door to his guest chambers. My heart pounds when I realize what they must be guarding.
“Give her to me,” I shout, standing up and knocking aside a furious overhead strike from Titus.
“You fucked my bride,” he growls, spinning into another series of blows.
I parry each, but have to step back closer and closer to the wall to avoid catching his steel in my skin. I notice Kato rising from the hatch behind Titus, but the two elite guards advance on him. He’s not so prideful that he tries to use his edge, instead he aims his gun and fires, catching one of the guards in the shoulder.
I lose track of the fight when I realize what Titus is setting up for. He only ever advances. He pushes his opponents, fighting for ground until there’s none left to take, and when he has them jammed he makes his finishing blow. That’s his strategy--it always has been, but for the first time I’ve ever seen, he gives up ground, making a few sloppy attacks that leave him exposed for fractions of a second too long. I nearly attack out of reflex when he presents his back to me or overextends a leg, practically begging to be cut, but I wait, sensing something else.
He’s baiting me. He wants me to lunge for him and maybe give up my balance. He wants me to think he’s so prideful that he wouldn’t bring bullets to an edged fight, but he’s planning to shoot me when I least expect it. He knows it’s the only way he can win. So I take his bait, watching the barrel of his Blade and not the edge. He pretends to lose his own balance from my attack, narrowly avoiding ten inches of steel in his belly, but falling to the ground. As he rolls down, I notice his barrel angling toward my head.
I dodge to the side, raising my own weapon and firing. I expect to see a spray of blood as my bullet catches him in the head, but instead there’s an explosion at his hands. His gun was raised in front of his face, and my bullet must have gone straight down its barrel, blowing the weapon up from the inside.
He screams, falling to his back and holding his bloody, trembling hands up to his face.
“You fucking shot me,” he says, voice riddled with disbelief. “You fucking shot me. You coward.”
I ignore him, squeezing off a round to finish the elite guard who is grappling for control over Kato’s weapon.
“Elizabeth!” I call, kneeling down just long enough to knock Titus unconscious as I pass him on the way to the guest room.
15
Elizabeth
“Elizabeth!” cries Roark from the other side of the door. My heart leaps. I heard the gunshots and his voice, but Queen Korinthia holds a blade up to my face and threatened to end me if I so much as made a sound.
She must figure Titus was killed, and when she turns to me, the look on her face is pure venom. “This is your fault. You fucking whore,” she hisses.
I see what she’s about to do a split second before it happens. Just like Roark said, she pulls her arm back to run me through with the steel of her weapon. My execution of the movement is sloppy, but I sidestep her thrust, pinning her arm to my side and adding my own flavor by punching her in the throat. I was aiming for her face, but the way her gun clatters to the ground and she gasps for air with bulging eyes makes me glad I missed.