Page 31 of Fated In Blood (Nocturne Vampire Clan #1)

31

RIORDAN

T yrell waved a careless hand at my friend. “Now take him and go before he bleeds out all over my floor.”

I didn’t let Silver’s arm go, didn’t dare look down at Blake, didn’t glance away from Tyrell, not even for a second. He was old and cagey and fought dirty. Both Collum and Bosch were just waiting for me to make a mistake.

And right now, I had to make a choice.

Dematerializing with a badly injured Blake meant my friend would arrive at Crimson House on death’s door and the girl—who had yet to complete her transition—couldn’t be left alone here with Tyrell or I’d never see her alive again.

Another choice, another game, another fucking move in a centuries-long game I was going to lose to this prick.

I released the girl, rubbing my sweating palm on my pants, Tyrell watching in delight.

If he had any inkling either Blake or myself had any vested interest in the girl beyond fucking her or revenge against her family, he would become infinitely more interested in Evangeline Silverwood, and Tyrell’s interest would be her death sentence.

“Go through those doors and start walking.” I put my hand between her shoulder blades, the knobs of her spine sharp against my palm when I shoved her forward. “Laurent and I have private business to discuss.”

As bad as his injuries looked right now, Blake would survive, especially if he spent a few more minutes lying on the floor healing while I stalled Tyrell and gave the girl a head start. Maybe I wouldn't even kill him by carrying him back to Crimson House. But right now, getting Evangeline out of this castle and off Tyrell’s grounds was imperative.

I gave her the perfect opening, yet the girl hesitated, eyes darting between Laurent and me. She was too stubborn for her own good, and while I normally admired her grit, now was not the time for her to dig in her heels and prove she had a steel spine.

“I will compel you if I must. Or you can actually listen for once and start walking.” My words were cold, my tone dismissive. An order to an underling I cared little for, and Collum’s mouth parted in glee.

For once, she looked undecided, measuring me up before she turned toward Tyrell, her lip curling. “If you hurt my sister, I will fucking—” The threat ended in an explosion of air as I cut off her airway.

“She has some learning to do, as you can see, but the potential is there.” Her eyes flared, fingers clawing at her throat, leaving long scratches. I hated myself for what I was about to say but said it anyway. “I’m sure you remember how difficult training a human is. Exciting and tedious at the same time.”

Her rage shoved against my magic like waves surging onshore during a storm, but if she challenged Tyrell here, in his own home, in front of his underlings, he would kill her where she stood, no matter whose name she bore or how valuable she was.

Patriarchal males like Tyrell did not tolerate defiance, especially not from a newly turned female.

I wrapped my magic around her and pushed her toward that broken opening, toward the darkness waiting outside. She had one chance to make it off these grounds before Tyrell’s revenants caught her scent, and if I dropped the ward around her mind to warn her, Tyrell would kill us both.

I turned my voice to stone. “If you aren’t at Crimson House when I arrive with Blake, you’ll be punished again, but this time, I won’t hold back.” Please, fucking take the hint.

One slow blink of understanding and she stepped through the door, scanning the darkened grounds, shoulders tensed beneath that battered leather jacket I’d never seen before. ‘ Freedom ’ was emblazoned across the back with rhinestones.

The black coat fit her curves perfectly, faded around the edges like the garment had been worn every single day. She ran her fingers along the lapel, gently enough to catch my attention.

And Tyrell’s . Obvious tells like that would get you killed in this world, especially if noticed by the wrong person, and Laurent was definitely the wrong person.

“Get moving,” I called. “You’d best run fast so the monsters don’t eat you.”

“Asshole,” she muttered loudly enough for everyone to hear.

Then she was gone, flying across the pitched, wide-open yard fast as a deer, feet blurring over the darkened ground, ponytail swinging in time to every step. She was fast. Once she fully made her transition, I doubted even I could keep up with her.

The moment she neared the stone fence bordering the western edge of the grounds, I sighed and turned back to Tyrell. “I swear, they are so tiresome at first.”

Bosch grunted in agreement, but Collum narrowed his eyes, unconvinced.

I flicked my fingers at both of them and Collum’s suspicion morphed to full-on rage. “Go away and do minion things while we talk about important kingdom business.”

“Bosch, wait for me in the library,” Tyrell hissed, stepping over Blake on his way toward me. “I will be along after I’ve spoken to our… king .”

Bosch’s echoing footsteps faltered when Tyrell added, “Collum, you can stay. I want you to hear this.”

I sensed the ward around Silver’s thoughts shatter when she crossed Tyrell’s invisible barrier circling the grounds. An ancient, unmarked boundary that once breached, put her safely back under my jurisdiction.

I drew a full breath and Blake’s hand twitched slightly, eyes fluttering.

I could imagine his pain like it was my own. Bones knitting back together, organs mending, skin healing at a rapid rate. Even on a good day, the rigors of immortality sucked, and for Blake, things were about to suck even worse.

“This stops tonight, Tyrell.” I gestured to a now writhing Blake. “Be glad I didn’t mutilate one of yours in return. Collum would do nicely.”

The bastard in question snarled, and I grinned. “That would be scarier if you had all your teeth, Lazarov.”

“This stops when you…and this failure you call your head of security give me back what you stole.” Laurent’s voice shook, eyes blacker than his rotting soul. “You will do penance for your sins, Riordan.”

“We’ve been over this so many times, I’ve lost count. Blake and I took nothing from you, Laurent. Laws are laws. If you don’t like them, get them changed. You’re in good graces with the High Council; surely they’ll rewrite our laws to accommodate you?”

There .

Just the vaguest flicker of doubt across Tyrell’s face and hope flashed through me. Blake’s rumors about the High Council were true. If the council was gone, not only did he no longer have the strength of their backing…he was weaker than we’d imagined.

“I know you killed Dominic and took the throne for yourself. You can deny your sins to your dying breath, but a father always knows when their child has been taken from them.” I didn’t bother pointing out he didn’t give two shits when Spencer was killed, but Spencer had never been Tyrell’s favorite.

No, that honor belonged to my sire, Dominic Graves, Tyrell’s favorite son.

“I know the truth. I’ve always known.” Laurent was coming unhinged, Collum eating up the drama like he was starving.

“I followed vampire law,” I explained patiently, enraging him further. “To the last fucking letter. You want to be pissed? Be pissed at your precious Caine, who decided absolute primogeniture was the way to ensure only his progeny remained in power.”

There weren’t many things that could make the oldest vampire on American soil go completely apeshit, except for this. And as a bonus, Collum was witnessing the meltdown.

I shrugged my shoulders. “I mean, if our number one law wasn’t ‘ power is passed down from father to son and fuck the daughters’ you wouldn’t be in this mess, forced to deal with me and unable to kill me. I’m not stepping down, not even if you torture every one of my allies.”

I ignored my gut twisting with guilt, reminding myself of what was at stake.

“If I turned this kingdom over to you, Blake would hate me for the rest of his life,” I told him truthfully. “You can’t scare me off, you can’t kill me, so I suppose you’ll have to continue putting up with me.”

“Who says I can’t kill you?” Collum pushed off the wall, every prowling step a deliberate threat. “I could kill you right now and end this entire thing tonight. Behead you both and have the servants mop up the mess, then dump you in the pond out back.”

“No, you can’t.” Tyrell’s jaw worked and some dark, evil part of me enjoyed his utter helplessness, all because of a male ten years dead.

“Why the fuck not?” Collum kept coming, and I let him come, keeping my body loose and a smirk on my face that would send Collum over the edge. Silver flashed above my head, the knife arcing down and down, straight toward my heart…

Tyrell’s magic stopped Collum midair, his face contorted in a scream, hand gripping the knife so hard his hand shook. Laurent tossed him against the wall, hard enough to knock out a chunk of the stone.

“Because I swore a blood oath to Dominic Graves to never conspire to kill his son or those he counts as friends.”

Collum went limp in shock. “A…blood oath?”

It was foolish for an immortal to swear an oath so binding, since you could never break your word for as long as you lived. And sworn to a lesser vampire, too—his own progeny.

Tyrell was constantly boasting about his direct connection to Caine. I, for one, didn’t give a shit how pure the old ghoul’s blood was…but my sire did.

My sire was all about purity and bloodlines and keeping the clan free from anyone he considered “undesirable,” which was pretty much everyone except for him and Tyrell.

But he was my sire, and I was his son, and because of antiquated, bullshit laws drawn up two thousand years ago, I ended up on the Nocturne Clan’s throne.

Not Tyrell or whomever he chose as his puppet.

From how butt hurt Collum was acting right now, I’d bet good money that puppet was him.

“A blood oath,” I repeated. “You so much as poke me with a butterknife and Tyrell will gut you. I’m untouchable, so whatever promises he made you regarding the throne, you might want to get in writing.”

“Only until I break the oath,” Tyrell hissed, and my blood slowed down, my heart seizing until I reminded myself that was impossible.

Breaking a blood oath between two living souls required a witch, an alder tree, and a shit ton of dark magic. Breaking an oath between souls trapped in different realms—including say, the afterlife—couldn’t be done.

“Let’s talk about Malachi,” I abruptly changed the subject. “What the fuck are you thinking, Laurent? He’s a monster of the worst kind. Inviting him here…I’ll have to lock down the entire clan and clear out the town until he’s gone.”

“We need to feed.” Laurent’s yellowed teeth ground together. “We rely on those humans down there.”

“You bring Malachi to Thorndale and I will empty that town out so fast all you’ll see is their backs as they flee to the city. Don’t fucking test me, Laurent.”

“Malachi is already on his way, and I have no means of stopping him. My advice to you would be to say there’s a virus. Humans hate those things. Always have. Pick something virulent enough nobody chances it. We’ll go outside the city to hunt our prey.”

My skin crawled at Tyrell’s creeping smile and the anticipatory glance he and Collum exchanged. As if they’d expected this.

“Your laws don’t extend outside Nocturne territory,” Tyrell said slowly. “Which means we don’t have to show our usual restraint. We can hunt at will, men, women, and children.” Horror spun through me like a poison as I realized my mistake.

Trust Collum to put all my fears into words. “Congratulation, Riordan Graves, you just doomed half of New York state to an early grave.”

Fuck me, but that would never happen, not on my watch. “Enjoy your visit with that sociopath. Thorndale will be empty by tomorrow afternoon, so plan accordingly. I hope the lot of you starve.”

Come on you bastard, get moving. We have to get out of here.

The second Blake’s hand reached up and grasped mine, I disappeared, pulling his half-conscious, considerable weight toward Crimson House, already calling for the closest healer to meet us when we arrived.

I closed my eyes against the onslaught of rushing cold as I dragged my friend through shadow and light, praying he didn’t bleed out along the way. Silver was almost home; she might even beat us there.

We were running out of time and everything—fucking every single one of my hopes—was pinned on that girl being the key to Tyrell’s demise. As long as he was alive, the Nocturne Clan would never change. My life would never change.

Laurent had never spoken openly of the oath he swore to my sire before, never brought up the fact that the only reason me, Blake, and our allies were still alive was because we were protected by blood magic. He’d revealed the truth in front of Collum, clearly his chosen heir now that Spencer was gone.

Which meant Tyrell was close to breaking the blood oath, and when he did, Blake, me, and everyone loyal to our cause would die.

Badly. Painfully, now that Collum was out for blood and had everything to gain.

We were racing against time.

The moment Blake was healed, he’d start Silver’s training, and I fucking hoped she was up to the challenge, because I couldn’t allow her to fail.

The stakes were all or nothing and we had no choice but to win.