Blood Promise Page 0,132

of effect on Strigoi-usually unpleasant-with stakes being the worst, since they used all four physical elements. It made sense that Strigoi would want to isolate harmful objects and get rid of "My stake!"

I ran forward and picked it up, nearly dropping it because my hands were so sweaty. The stake was lying on top of a box with a length of cloth and some weird stones. Studying it, I realized it wasn't actually my stake-not that it made a difference for killing Strigoi. This stake was almost identical, save for a small geometric pattern running around its base. It was something guardians did from time to time if they felt particularly attached to their stake: have a design or initials etched into it. Holding this stake, I felt a momentary pang of sadness. This had belonged to someone who'd wielded it proudly once, someone who was now most likely dead. God only knew how many other dozens of stakes were in here, seized from other unfortunate prisoners, but I had no time to search or mourn those who had died.

"Okay, now I want you to take me to..." I hesitated. Even with a stake, it'd be a lot better for me if I didn't face any more Strigoi. I had to assume there'd still be a guard at the front door. "... Some room on this floor with a window that actually opens. And is far from the stairs."

The guy thought for a moment and then gave a quick nod. "This way."

I followed him through another maze of twisting corridors. "What's your name?"

"Oleg."

"You know," I said. "I'm getting out of here... if you want... if you want, I could take you with me." Having someone else-a human, particularly -would definitely slow me down. Yet, my conscience wouldn't let me leave anyone behind in this place.

He gave me an incredulous glance. "Why would I want to do that?" Sydney had definitely been right about humans making great sacrifices for immortality. Oleg and Inna were living proof.

We rounded a corner and came face-to-face with an elaborate set of French doors. Through the etched glass, I could see book-lined shelves, stretching all the way up the walls. A library-a huge one that extended on and on, out of my sight. Better yet, I saw a large bay window opposite me, framed in heavy satin curtains the color of blood.

"Perfect," I said, pushing open the doors.

That was when the nausea hit me. We weren't alone in the room.

Galina sprang up from a chair near the fireplace on the far side of the room. A book dropped from her lap. I had no time to dwell on the oddity of a Strigoi having a fireside read, because she was coming right toward me. I almost might have thought Oleg had set me up, but he was cowering in a corner, his face mirroring the shock I felt. Despite the library's enormous size, she reached me in seconds.

I dodged her initial attack-or tried to, at least. She was fast. Aside from Dimitri, the other Strigoi in this house were clearly the B-team, and I had forgotten just how badass a truly skilled Strigoi was. She caught me by my arm and swung me toward her, mouth open and fangs going straight for my neck. I had the stake in my hand and tried awkwardly to at least scratch her with it, but she was holding me too tightly. At last, I managed to duck a little and move my throat out of her range, but all this did was give her the opportunity to grab hold of my hair. She jerked me upright, and I screamed in pain. How she managed to hold onto my hair without ripping it right out was remarkable. Still gripping it, she shoved me into a wall.

When I'd first fought with Dimitri upon my arrival, he'd been rough but hadn't wanted to kill me. Galina did. She'd taken it on faith from Dimitri that I'd be an asset, but it was obvious now that I was a real pain in the ass. Her amnesty had ended, and she was intent on killing me. I at least had the comfort of knowing she probably wouldn't turn me into a Strigoi. I'd be lunch.

A shout suddenly drew my attention to the door. Dimitri stood there, face blazing with anger. Whatever illusions I'd harbored about him being his former self disappeared. That fury radiated around him, his eyes narrowed and fangs showing. The pale