Capture the Crown (Gargoyle Queen #1) -Jennifer Estep Page 0,148

the dagger off the table. The weapon was much lighter than I expected and slid into my hand with an easy familiarity. I glanced down at it. My snarling gargoyle crest glittered in the hilt.

I silently cursed. Maeven had killed Emperia with my dagger to further incriminate me. She really had thought of everything. My fingers clenched around the hilt. Well, I could kill her with the blade just like she’d murdered Emperia with it.

I hurried around the table, but Maeven moved in the opposite direction so that it remained in between us. She raised her hand, and purple lightning crackled on her fingertips. The two of us stood there, facing off across the table. She gave me an amused smile. I snarled and bared my teeth in return.

Maeven flicked her hand, and a bolt of lightning zipped out of her fingers and slammed into some glass jars on another table. The subsequent explosion boomed through the workshop.

In the distance, a voice rang out. “What was that?”

“I think it came from Milo’s workshop!”

“This way, men! Hurry!”

I tensed, recognizing the last voice as Wexel’s.

“You’re not killing me tonight, Gemma,” Maeven purred. “Not with your mind magier power or that dagger or anything else.”

I silently cursed again. By throwing those chains at her, I’d shown Maeven what I truly was, if she hadn’t already guessed.

“You might—might—be able to murder me if you were at full strength, but you’ve been severely injured.” Her lightning burned a little brighter and hotter in her hand. “And I have not.”

I snarled again with anger and frustration, but I held my position. I was still weak from Milo’s torture, and she would easily fry me to a crisp.

“You have two choices,” Maeven said. “You can stay here and die trying to kill me, or you can attempt to escape. The guards are still a few corridors away. If you leave now, you might make it out of the palace. As for what happens after that, well . . .” She shrugged. “You’ll never know unless you try.”

“Why are you doing this? Why are you giving me a chance to escape?”

“I told you that I would not forget your kindness to Delmira.”

A harsh laugh erupted out of my lips. “You don’t care about kindness.”

“No, but like it or not, I need you, Gemma Ripley. So does Delmira.” Maeven paused. “And Leonidas most of all.”

Her soft words ripped into my chest, as though she’d stabbed me the same way she had Emperia. That traitorous softness trickled into my heart again, but I shoved it away.

“Leonidas can die a cold, miserable death for all I care.”

“It wasn’t his fault,” Maeven replied. “I lied to him. Now, he should have known better than to believe me, but Leonidas has always been a bit naïve that way. Always wanting to believe there is still a sliver of good left deep down inside me. He’s wrong, of course, but he can’t quite let go of that hope. He really would be better off if he didn’t love me at all.”

Her words and obvious concern for her son, however twisted, proved his point, although I doubted she would see it that way.

In the distance, more shouts rose up, but still I hesitated, desperately wanting to kill Maeven for everything she’d done, for how skillfully and easily she’d manipulated me and everyone else at Myrkvior. The queen was right. She had learned from Everleigh, and she had fully mastered the Bellonan long game.

“Fly, Gemma,” Maeven purred, another smug smile stretching across her face. She’d won this round, and we both knew it. “Fly away, as fast as you can.”

Cursing, I had no choice but to do as the queen commanded. I tightened my grip on my dagger, then fled out the open workshop door.

* * *

I sprinted out into the hallway. At the far end of the corridor, Wexel jogged into sight, along with several guards.

“The prisoner has escaped!” he roared. “After her!”

I bolted in the opposite direction. Despite Maeven’s machinations, Wexel and the guards would kill me if they caught me. So I ran, ran, ran, as fast as I could, darting down hallways, careening around corners, and shoving through doors. But I was physically and mentally exhausted, and the guards were not, and their shouts and footsteps quickly grew closer and louder.

They were gaining on me.

I ran through some open doors, stopped, and turned around to make a stand. Wexel sprinted toward me, his sword clutched in his hand and an evil grin