He was crushing my windpipe. This was how some men liked to kill women, up close, with their hands on your skin, breathing on you, pressed against you. My gaze flicked to the window, and the sight of the blood spatters filled me with a rage that sharpened my senses.
Come on, Lila.
When you grew up where I did, you learned how to get away from men like this. And Alice had taught me well, hadn’t she? She never let anyone fuck with us.
So I brought my hands up between his arms, and slammed them outward as hard as I could. He lost his grip on me. I sucked in a deep breath, then kicked him hard in the knackers. For a moment, he doubled over.
But before I could get my dagger off the ground, he slammed his fist into my jaw. I tasted blood, coppery in my mouth.
And yet I felt something sliding through my bones, a tingling darkness. A rage as ancient as Dovren. I was no prince, but the Raven King wanted me alive.
Maybe this man had no idea who he was fucking with. Like the nightshade, I was born from the ancient soil beneath the city. I summoned the darkness within me, one of moss and earth, fertilized with blood and bones.
When my own fist connected with his jaw, the crack of bone was so loud it echoed off the walls. Wrath ignited all my muscles. The hidden magic of the city vibrated through the rocks, into my body, giving me strength. I would end this man.
While he stumbled back, I punched him hard, my fist smashing his nose. Blood poured down his face, and he stumbled, losing his balance. He fell hard on his back, dazed. I darted back, snatching the dagger from the ground.
But as I did, he grabbed me by the calves, pulling with a grunt. I fell back into the unforgiving rock, but I kept my grip on the dagger. From the ground, I kicked the guard hard in the head. I sprang to my feet.
While he was trying to right himself again, I slammed the back of my elbow into his skull.
On the floor, he moaned. I brought the dagger down into his back, exactly where the long blade would pierce his heart. He went silent and still.
I stood above the carnage, catching my breath. The dark feeling that had electrified my body was starting to subside, and I was left here with the sound of my own heartbeat, my own ragged breathing.
Because now, I had a whole other problem on my hands. In fact, I had two dead bodies at my feet that I needed to get rid of.
I really didn’t need Samael knowing I was slaughtering his soldiers.
How could I dump the evidence? The part of the window that opened looked too small. I peered out at the old broken bridge that jutted out from the tower.
That might be my best bet. At one point, people would have crossed between the towers, which meant there must be a door leading out to that giant shard of bridge.
I dragged the first guard by his feet into the hallway, and it wasn’t far until I got to the door to the old bridge. It was locked from the inside, so I slid the iron lock across and then pushed the door open. I dragged the guard out onto the bridge. It must be well past midnight now, and no one was walking below at this hour. Not to mention that the storm had picked up again, rain slamming down hard.
Beneath my feet, the stone was slick. When I peered over the side of the crumbling bridge, dizziness swooped through my head. The bridge was only about twelve feet long, but twelve stories in the air.
Once I dragged the soldier's body halfway, I got down on my knees and pushed him. The bridge had a one-foot ridge on one side, and it took considerable effort to lug his body over it. First, his torso. Then, his legs were free, and he started to fall.
Lightning pierced the sky and a thundering boom rolled across the horizon. Crouching on the edge of the bridge, I watched him plummet. It felt like some kind of dark sacrifice. In the old days, that's what they used to do, sacrifices to the Dark River. I wiped a hand across my mouth and realized my whole body was shaking