He paused at the fountain at the base of the castle, looking up at the outer courtyard, where people were gathering, laughing, and enjoying the music while waiting for the Summit organizers to share remarks. Giancarlo would speak, and musical numbers would follow, but the final time segment before the midnight vote was reserved for Emme.
His eyes burned in earnest now, and he leaned against a tree for support. He put a hand to his chest, rubbing it in a vain attempt to soothe his heart. Never one for poetic drama, he couldn’t dispute the fact that it felt as though his heart was made of glass and would shatter into a million shards if Emme was dead.
Suddenly, a hand clamped on his neck from behind, nails digging into his skin.
“Come quietly with me, brother, and nobody will be harmed.” Lawrence pulled him from the courtyard with dizzying speed. Mayhem erupted as several figures dressed in formal attire began to storm the area and climb the sides of the castle.
Lawrence’s vampires were attacking, and Oliver’s blood boiled even as he was dragged along like a rag doll. He hadn’t found Emme, but he wouldn’t allow his brother to ruin his life. He would fight with everything he had.
Chaos abounded as people ran, screaming, but to Oliver’s satisfaction, members of the military who were tasked with security, as well as dozens of constabulary armed with appropriate weaponry responded to the attack. Vampire after vampire fell, and Oliver marked the moment his brother realized they were losing numbers at an alarming rate.
“No matter. You’ll be my consolation prize,” Lawrence snarled in his ear as he dragged him farther from the castle. “Lysette has hers, and you will die knowing how closely you came to a lovely reunion.”
“Not today.” Oliver went limp, mimicking a deadweight ploy Emme had once used on him. It gave him a fraction of a second’s advantage. As Lawrence paused in surprise, he shoved his elbow hard into his brother’s abdomen. He pushed away just enough to reach the new silver knife in his boot and pull it free, but Lawrence knocked it from his hand, sending it flying.
Oliver scrambled toward the knife, but Lawrence lunged at him, fangs extended. Oliver punched and struggled like a man possessed, but Lawrence easily tore the bandage from his neck and reopened the wound. He lifted his head and smiled at Oliver in a grotesque mockery of joy, and Oliver struggled, shoving away with everything he had. Lawrence laughed, and Oliver knew he was going to end him.
Suddenly, a blur of movement pulled Lawrence away from him long enough that Oliver was able to wrench himself free.
Lawrence gasped and stumbled back. Embedded in his chest was Oliver’s silver knife, and standing to the side was Gus.
Lawrence sank to the ground, mouth open in a silent scream, and as he fell backward, Gus pulled the knife from his chest. “You are finished,” the calm man told Lawrence, who twitched once and then was still, destroyed.
Gus pulled a clean handkerchief from his pocket and wiped off Oliver’s knife. “A man shouldn’t have to kill his own brother,” he said quietly, then returned Oliver’s knife to him.
Oliver took the knife, dumbfounded and feeling a profound sense of shock at the diminutive, unassuming little vampire who looked more accountant than warrior.
Gus quickly helped Oliver to his feet. “Sir, I have credible information on Miss Emmeline’s whereabouts.” He stopped with a sharp intake of breath. “Your throat, sir! We must heal you immediately!”
“Gus.” Oliver clutched at his burning neck, feeling the venom again beginning to spread. “Go, find her. Quickly. I’ll get help.”
By now, a crowd was gathering, and in his periphery, Oliver saw Conley running toward them.
“But, sir,” Gus said, “you should be Miss Emmeline’s hero!”
Oliver coughed and spat, too dizzy to remain upright. He staggered against the smaller man and then shoved at him. “Finding her is the priority. We must reach her before Lysette realizes the Cadre’s plan has been foiled! If Emme isn’t dead already, I fear she will be soon. Go, and do not tell her I’ve been bitten!”
Gus turned, running through the crowd and out of sight.
Oliver clutched his neck and looked at the castle and surrounding area. Military and police had made quick work of containing the attack. Thanks in part to Gus’s information, they’d already doubled security around the gathering of diplomats and dignitaries, and archers armed with silver-tipped arrows had been standing as sentries high on the castle walls.
Oliver dropped to one knee, pressing his hand against the wound at his throat, trying to stop the flow of blood.
Conley rushed up and caught him, yelling over his shoulder for a medic. “Do not even think about escaping your responsibilities now, Reed.” Conley was pale, and a sheen of sweat dotted his forehead. “If you leave me alone to deal with Lady O’Shea . . .”
Oliver managed a weak laugh. “She respects you enormously. You’ll be fine. How many others wounded?”
“Very few, from what I’ve seen. No, do not lie down! Stay awake!” Conley shook him, and Oliver wished he would just leave him be for a moment.
Oliver tried to swallow. “Gus . . . might have found Emme. Tell her, tell Emme—”
“Blast it, Oliver! You tell her yourself!” Conley yelled over his shoulder again for medical help.
The venom spread, moving faster than before because of Oliver’s already weakened state. His head spun, and a fierce ache throbbed behind his eyes. His grip on Conley’s jacket began to slacken, even as he tried to maintain hold. Numbness spread into his fingers, and they slipped from Conley’s sleeve.
His thoughts turned to Emme. If Gus could reach her in time, she would still be able to address the assembly. Even if Lysette had hurt her, as long as Emme was conscious, she would fight to take her place before the midnight vote.
“Don’t tell her about me until
