rebellion, the lack of loyalty the Council truly had for its subjects—but I enjoyed these little moments when I could stick it to the Council without them realizing it.
“I thought it only appropriate that we use our large gathering this evening to initiate you further into our fold.” Stepanov pivoted on the podium with his arms outstretched, his robes brushing the marbled floor as he stared out at the many faces watching him with strange fascination, waiting for his next move.
I was so busy paying attention to Stepanov that I didn’t notice Ishida rounding the line of thrones and coming up behind mine until I felt a sharp, stinging prick bloom in my neck as he stabbed me with a needle and deployed the plunger.
“What the…” I trailed off as I slapped a hand to my neck, wondering what the hell Ishida injected me with. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. I let my gaze slide to my father, searching for answers he didn’t seem to have.
“What is the meaning of this?” My dad pushed himself out of his throne with measured anger, getting to his feet.
“Calm yourself, Williams.” Stepanov stopped my father from advancing to my side with a swipe of his hand. “The boy is fine. We’re simply bringing out his full potential.”
Blood smeared my palm when I pulled it away, and I glared at Ishida as I slowly stood and turned. “What was in the vial, Ishida?” I could have sworn I caught the scent of smoke and flowers, the distinct fragrance of my mate. My Basilisk uncoiled in my mind, angry and ready to sink his teeth into the next shifter who posed a threat to Nix or myself. “You owe me at least that much.”
Ishida trailed a hand along the back of the thrones, letting his fingers tap a rhythm along the polished wood as he smirked like the sly, cunning fox he was. He held up the syringe, and I saw the remnants of red liquid dripping down the plastic tube. “Phoenix blood, of course. It has properties that will strengthen a shifter’s powers tenfold.” Passing Rahal’s throne at the end of the line, he strolled back toward me while Rahal studied the crowd and made eyes at the girl who serviced him the other night, unbothered by Ishida’s madness or the blood about to be spilled. Ishida prowled forward. “You don’t think we’d have let that bitch stay under the Council’s protection without having taken something in return, do you? Our society is one of give and take, of mutually beneficial sacrifice for the greater good. It’s why we have rules, though my favorite is the execution of traitors.” He waved a hand toward the three shifters tied and gagged in the corner, awaiting their deaths. “Though these shifters will have to do for the moment, don’t think I won’t relish the day I destroy that little Phoenix and scatter her ashes so far apart she’ll never be reborn.”
My Basilisk struck against the wall I kept him behind in my mind, his fast reflexes as lethal as the venom that made my incisors ache. Keeping my anger, and my alter, in check, I bluffed, “I guess we’ll have to see who catches her first and gets to do the honors.” Fuck me. I couldn’t do this. I needed to get the hell out of dodge. Tonight. No more waiting. Ciarán was working on an exit strategy, but I was done. This was all too much. Hell, if I could only stall this execution, I’d get the others out as well. We could all flee together.
My head began to pound, and I rubbed my forehead to the tune of Maldonado’s chuckle.
“It seems to be working, no?” he questioned, watching my pain with rapt fascination. He got off on other people’s agony.
The low ache behind my eyes grew worse, the sensation of pressure blossoming until I was sure my eyes were going to explode. I closed my eyelids and grunted as I dug my palms into them, trying to force them to return to normal. My blood boiled as I realized what was happening.
It was just like what had transpired with Theo’s powers up on that mountainside when he’d almost—accidentally—taken my life. Nix’s blood wasn’t just making my venom more potent or my reflexes faster, though I was sure that was happening as well, but my latent ability to kill with a single look, the death glare I hadn’t seemed to inherit, was forming