Page 114

I shook my head in disbelief. “You were going to kill someone. And you probably weren’t even going to tell me. I’m upset because a human girl was killed, and you wereabout to do the same thing. So fine, Raphael. Drink from me. Claim my lifeblood if that’s what will save some unlucky human’s life, but know you’re no different than any of the other monsters. The only difference is that you treat me a little better, and the others see me as your pet, so that when they kill a human in their bloodlust, it’s one you don’t have use for.” I broke out of his grip with a tug of my shoulders. “Now, leave so I can get back to beinguseful, Your Majesty.”

Raphael remained rooted in his spot. “Do you not see that you’re different?”

As if this conversation hadn’t proved he saw me as he did every other worthless mortal, except that I washis. “I’m useful, as we agreed.” I gave the Black Grimoire a pointed look. “So I’d best get back to work.”

Still, Raphael remained. “Have you had success in your translations?” His voice was soft, coaxing.

I didn’t want small talk, but the quickest way to get rid of him was to pretend everything was fine. “It’s slow. Slower than I expected, so I have nothing to show for it. I should get back to it,” I repeated.

Raphael made no move to leave. He wasn’t oblivious. He simply didn’t care.

“By the fifth hell, Raphael, I want to be alone!” Apparently, I wasn’t so good at pretending.

Finally, Raphael moved. We crossed in opposite directions, me moving to the couch where the grimoire was and him towards the door. When he reached the doorframe, he paused.

“I mean it,” I said quietly from across the room. The urge to yell had passed in those few steps and now I could scarcely whisper. But no doubt he would hear every word. “I’ll go with you to the ball. Just leave me be until then.”

Raphael left.

I watched the door for several minutes, as if expecting him to come back.

To apologize? To say he’d find the vampire who murdered the donor and see justice done? To say he’d been wrong about the humans? About me? To say I didn’t need to go to the ball?

I didn’t know what I wanted from Raphael. Worse, I seemed to wanteverything, and everything was a delusion.

When I, at last, was confident he wasn’t coming back, I opened the grimoire. I’d been lying to Raphael for weeks now. Since I’d translated the opening line and realized it was the key to undoing the vampires, I’d thought of little else. Some parts were hard to interpret—winding prose, detailed origins of the goddess Anagenni, the meaning of death and all other kinds of philosophical dribble that didn’t mean anything concrete.

I slipped out the sheet where I’d translated the first true passage and traced my fingers over the dried ink on the parchment. I’d nearly memorized the words.

The undead bow to the necromancer. One witch is gifted to the world every two hundred years with Anagenni’s blessing. They alone can right the balance.

At first, I’d concluded Raphael must not realize what he had in his possession if he was letting me translate it. In the days since, I’d dismissed the thought. This was why Raphael hunted them. Because vampires weren’t stronger than all witches after all. That was why he’d taken the grimoire, so even if this necromancer rose to power they’d be weak. The book likely gave some hint of who it was orsome secrets to their magic the vampires could use against them.

Somewhere out there was a witch who would be able to take on the vampires. To stop them from killing humans as they so pleased.

Once I finished, I planned to help them with the translated grimoire. But the truth was, I had no idea where to look. And every day wasted in searching would cost more lives.

I needed to do something more immediate to make the vampires realize they weren’t so untouchable.

That us weak, breakable mortals could fight back instead of being fodder.

Hours later, when the castle was quiet, I slipped out of my room once more.

That was why I slid a small parchment with one word scribbled on it behind the false rock Titus had shown me.

Yes.

Chapter Forty-Five

“You’re going to diewhen you see the dress,” Amalthea declared as she burst through the door the moment I opened it.

An eruption of red engulfed the space between us. I blinked at the color. It was startlingly bright, with layers and layers of skirts in a vibrant red hue.

The exact shade of freshly spilled blood.

Gods, I don’t want to do this.

But time had run out. Tonight was the ceremony.