“What’s your plan, Paavo?” Winter asked in a low voice as he inched closer to the stage. He remained in the darkness of the theater. The vampire holding Fox was blinded by the spotlight, and he had to wonder whose brilliant idea that was. He understood making sure the bait was well lit, but there was no point in putting himself in a weakened position.
“Don’t take another step, Winter!” Paavo snarled.
The vampire was sweating profusely in the bright light, plastering his muddy brown hair to his temples and back of his neck. He was a tall, slender man with a pockmarked face and beady black eyes. There was nothing about him that screamed strength or even leader, but like the much-maligned Scarecrow, he had a brain. Or at least he usually did. This whole setup was asinine.
Unless Damon was feeding Paavo to Winter in hopes of distracting him long enough to take care of Aiden and the rest of the Variks.
“I told you that you should have run,” Fox said in a singsong voice. “Damon is just tossing you into the wood-chipper.”
“Shut up! I told you to shut up!” Paavo screamed. The hand holding the knife on Fox shook and slipped against his throat.
“More ropes, baby?” Winter called. He edged a little closer, his eyes darting over the theater. There were stairs on the far sides of the stage. He could also rush the stage, but he’d lose valuable seconds climbing up it. Disappearing would be an option, but if Paavo realized he was no longer visible, he might panic and slit Fox’s throat.
“You know me and knots,” Fox said. There was only the slightest waver in his voice. He was putting on a good front that everything was okay, but Winter wasn’t fooled. As Winter got closer, he could clearly see that the left side of Fox’s face was badly bruised, and one eye was nearly swollen shut from where someone had hit him several times.
“You know that if you harm him in any way, I’m going to kill you,” Winter said calmly.
“I have no doubt that you planned to kill me regardless. Aiden can’t effectively seize power with me alive. I can rally Damon’s allies.”
Winter chuckled. “Already planning for Damon’s death. How very practical of you.”
Paavo allowed the tiniest of smiles to slip across his thin lips. “Damon was always determined to take on the Variks directly when any fool knows that you need to be killed off quietly.”
“And yet here you are with minimal guards to protect you as you are left to face me.” Winter chuckled. “It’s almost like Damon knew of your plans and left you to die.”
“But you won’t kill me if it means saving him,” Paavo said. “We saw how comfortably you kept him in your own home. He’s not a prisoner. He’s a cherished guest.”
“He’s mine,” Winter snarled and Paavo shivered. Fox beamed at him, smiling larger than life even with his split lip. “Release him and I’ll let you have a head start. I’ll let you run. Disappear off to Europe. It’s the only chance I’m going to give you.”
Paavo hesitated. His eyes narrowed on Winter while the fingers on the knife twitched, moving just a tiny bit away from Fox’s neck. Winter wasn’t close enough to take advantage of it, but Fox was.
Everything happened so fast. Fox shifted, but Paavo didn’t seem to notice. All his attention was on Winter as if he were waiting for him to disappear. Fox’s arms came from around the back of the chair, the rope binding his chest falling loose. Gritting his teeth, Fox slammed his elbow into Paavo’s balls. The vampire cried out and buckled, leaning forward so that the knife was away from Fox’s throat. A shout left Fox as he jerked out of Paavo’s grip and tipped his chair over to the right, away from Paavo.
Grabbing his powers, Winter ran in the dead world and rushed up the stage as Paavo struggled to right himself enough to go after Fox. Clutching the knife in his fist, Paavo raised it above his head, ready to bring it down on Fox, but Winter was already there. He parted the veil as he lunged forward. The point of the knife pierced the veil first, stabbing straight into Paavo’s gut. A sharp gasp left his parted lips and his eyes went wide. Every movement in his body froze as if he were locked in shock.
Winter didn’t hesitate. He pulled the knife free, slashed him across the throat, and shoved the vampire away. Paavo stumbled and fell into a heap of tangled limbs into the center of the stage. Blood poured from his body, glistening in the bright spotlight. Winter squinted against the glare as he stalked his prey. Paavo had threatened his family, threatened his Fox. There was no escape, no mercy that would save his life. He was right that the Variks would not know peace until he was gone.