Reign of Darkness (The Prince's Assassin #2) - Ariana Nash Page 0,82
glanced at the window behind Niko. “By land or sea?”
“Sea, we think.”
Vasili straightened his cuffs, ran his hands through his hair, and headed toward the door. “Then Yasir was correct. Their presence here is no accident—”
“Wait.” If Niko let him leave without discussing last night and what it meant, the opportunity would be lost and they’d go back to the way things had been before. Distant. Icy. Was that what Vasili wanted, after that note? Niko couldn’t stand that. Not now. Things had to be different, didn’t they? He wanted them to be. But did Vasili want them to be? “Vasili. This. Us…” Gods, he was shit at words. “Last night—”
“There’s no time, Niko. If elves are he—” He opened the door.
Niko saw the pistol too late—heard the shot before understanding what was happening. Vasili reeled, his left hand going to his right shoulder. Blood rapidly bloomed through his fingers.
Guards poured in. “Get down! Down!” One kicked Vasili’s legs out. He went down onto his hands and knees. The guards grappled with him, holding him down between them.
“Stop!” Niko lunged forward and was met with a pistol between the eyes, freezing him rigid. Alissand glared from behind the weapon.
His uncle jerked his chin. “There’s only one place a Caville should be and it’s not a Yazdan’s bed.”
Niko lifted his hands. “You don’t understand. Vasili isn’t here to fight us—”
“Oh, I understand. Vasili Caville is harboring half the flame, a power that should never have been freed. That freedom is over.”
Freedom? What freedom? He wasn’t making any sense.
The guards manhandled Vasili to his feet. Blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth, and a pink flush burned across his cheek. They’d struck him. Fury blazed in his eye. And not just fury, but a swirl of darkness. “Unhand me, damn you!” Vasili pulled on the guards’ grip, baring his teeth in a sneer, but they held firm.
He knew Alissand hated the Cavilles, but this was absurd. “Alissand, stop this… Let Vasili explain.”
Alissand shook his head as though disappointed. “It’s not your fault. You’re ignorant of our ways. Leila didn’t teach you. The Cavilles must be dealt with.”
“Dealt with?” Niko glared back. “This is a mistake. It’s you who doesn’t know what you’re dealing with. Vasili doesn’t just contain the flame. He can and will wield it. Let him go, or you risk the lives of everyone in this room.”
Alissand frowned. “Then you do know and you willfully engage with it? You are no Yazdan.” He raised the pistol again, this time with intent to kill.
“It?! What exactly do you think he is?”
A dangerous gleam shone in Alissand’s eyes. “A curse and a tool.”
Whatever was happening here, Alissand was wrong, and Niko wasn’t about to stand by and let them hold Vasili. His blade lay against the far wall, too far away. His pistol was on the dresser, but even if he could reach it, he hadn’t re-armed it since the battle.
He considered tackling Alissand. The man was in his middle years but far from weak.
“Don’t try me, boy. I will put you down, Yazdan or not.”
His uncle wouldn’t kill him… would he? “Where’s Roksana?”
Alissand snorted. “Readying the cells.”
“No…” She wouldn’t. She knew Vasili—she’d never turn against him like this. Against Niko. “Don’t do this.”
Vasili’s laugh rippled out of him and instantly sucked all of the heat from the air, leaving it chilled. Inky darkness flooded his eye. “The Yazdans and their relentless righteousness. I should have known. Nothing changes.”
Alissand nodded at the rightmost guard. He drew back his fist and struck Vasili in the jaw, whipping his head to the side and splitting his lip. Vasili spat blood, staggered in the guard’s grip, and smiled.
“Stop!” Niko took a step forward.
His uncle’s pistol dug against his skull. “One more step and you’re a dead man.”
They struck Vasili again, and this time he went down hard. He tried to push onto his arm but collapsed, unmoving.
While all eyes were turned to Vasili, Niko snatched his uncle’s pistol out of the man’s hand and turned it on him. But a guard plowed in and tackled Niko. His back struck the bedpost. Hands clawed at his grip on the gun. A punch landed in his middle, and he could do nothing but buckle over and breathe. The gun was gone, snatched from his fingers by the same people he’d damn well trained. This wasn’t right. They weren’t like this. Roksana would listen… Something heavy and hard struck him in the lower back, and Niko blinked,