The Death Bringer (Blood Vier, #3) by Christy Harrill

Author:Christy Harrill [Harrill, Christy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rose Hollow Press
Published: 2023-11-20T13:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Vladimir

THE ROOM DELVED FROM peaceful talks to complete chaos within the blink of an eye. One moment the men were talking, the next Katherine jumped in front of William and arrows began raining down on us. I turned, shoving Taryn back toward the soldiers against the wall as I drew my sword, eyes searching for the source of the onslaught.

The two Brenden diplomats lay sprawled on the floor, two daggers in each of their backs, my marksmen having already taken them down. I ducked low as another arrow whizzed past my ear, so close the wind from it ruffled my hair as its feathers brushed across my cheek. My gaze shot to the rafters where two dark figures ran along the beams, raining a barrage of ricochets and arrows down upon us. I lurched toward the wall, ripping a bow and quiver from the hands of one of my archers and immediately firing back at the two strangers. Each shot I fired missed, finding its place in the wooden beams of the ceiling, anywhere but the actual intended target. The other archers fired as well, but the two invaders kept racing farther away, too high and awkward of an angle to get a decent shot.

Where were they running to?

My eyes locked on the far end of the room where light bled through the windows carved out of the stone.

“Nic!” I yelled, finding him already beside me. “Give me a lift!”

Adrenaline raced through my veins as I strung the bow across my back. Nic cupped his hands like a stirrup, and I stepped into it. He shoved me upward and I looped my fingers over a stretch of crown molding, pulling myself farther up the wall until I could reach the stones. My fingers and toes sought out each little ledge and grip, propelling me upward to the rafters. No fear of falling held me back; it was the fear of not reaching them before they disappeared that pervaded me.

My fingers brushed across the rough wood of the nearest beam, and I hoisted myself up until I was standing on it. The height was dizzying, but I cut my way across, jumping from beam to beam through the rafters toward where the assassins were clambering out the window. I hopped across at an alarming pace, giving no thought for missing a step and plunging to my death. Adrenaline drove me, spurred me on.

When I finally reached the window, I leapt through the frame, my boots slipping across the shingles. I grasped for traction, catching sight of the black-clad forms running away over the rooftop. In one swift motion, I pulled my bow free, nocking an arrow and letting it fly. It sliced through one man’s calf, and he stumbled, grasping to catch himself on the shingles. I fired another arrow, which struck him in the back and sent him grasping for traction as he tumbled down the slanted roof, completely disappearing over the edge to an unknown death below.

I stumbled around the corner of the roof only to be met by a blade pressed against my jugular.

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