Page 40 of Fated In Blood (Nocturne Vampire Clan #1)

40

BLAKE

I really should kill Malachi and be done with it.

I mean, look at the fucker, sprawled out like he owns the place, tossing Evangeline’s name around like he owns her, too.

Far too often I’d dreamed of Draven’s death. Had planned his demise down to the last, glorious detail. Splattering Rohr’s office with blood would be an inconvenience, but other than that…

Don’t you dare let him get a rise out of you, Blake.

We don’t need him, Rohr. Let me kill him and there will be one less enemy to stab us in the back.

He’s a necessary evil, remember? In case Plan A doesn’t work out.

“Having a nice little chat, boys?” Malachi’s grin was equal parts smarmy playboy and coldhearted killer. “My brother and I,” his face hardened into an ugly mask, “oh yes, I used to have a brother…we could talk like that, you know.”

“And what?” I snorted. “Am I supposed to give a shit?”

“It’s rude to talk about me when I’m sitting right here . Unless…” His grin lit up his entire face. “Unless I’ve hit a nerve with all my talk about sweet, sweet Evangeline?”

Don’t.

Riordan’s command rang inside my head at the same time a brutal jolt of pain cleaved through my chest, like a hole had opened up at my very center. Sharp as a knife, fear tore me to pieces, my head swimming beneath the onslaught.

My gaze snapped up, meeting Riordan’s widening eyes.

What the fuck was that?

Evangeline’s in trouble. She’s hurt.

“Don’t tell me you two can’t take a hint. And we don’t have a deal, Riordan, not until you…” Malachi’s eyes narrowed, body rigid as he looked between us, sensing tension in the air. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Nothing that concerns you.” I shoved away from the windows and paused beside Riordan’s desk. “You want the little slayer? She’s all yours, once this is over, providing Tyrell dies by your hand. Are those terms simple enough for you to understand?”

What the fuck are you doing, Blake?

Getting him out of here so we can go save our slayer, that’s what.

“And you’re the one making this deal because…?”

“I’m her Maker.” I shrugged, lying to his face. “It’s my right to do with my progeny as I wish. She is a pain in my ass, so I’m giving her to you, providing you kill Tyrell, as agreed.”

If Malachi knew—if he even suspected—Riordan was the one to turn Evangeline, he’d run straight to Tyrell and use that little nugget against us. It was one thing for me, a virtual nobody, to sire a progeny, but a king’s offspring…yeah, that information would paint a target on Evangeline’s back, bigger than the one already there.

My hand curled into a sweaty fist. Fucking hell, this pain was intolerable…we had to get moving. Now .

“You heard him. Do we have a deal, Malachi?” Riordan gripped the edge of his desk, a vein pulsing in his forehead. “You know what you have to do, and I’d advise guarding your thoughts at all times. If Tyrell suspects you’re playing both sides, you’ll end up on the chopping block beside us, carved apart by Valaine’s knives.”

Malachi just looked bored, as if Tyrell hadn’t devised ways of killing that made the Spanish Inquisition look like a tea party.

“And if you decide to remove the blood oath and fuck us over, I’ll make goddamn sure we take you down with us,” I hissed, another wave of pain overpowering me, my hand slapping onto my aching chest before I could stop myself.

“Threats and promises, always so predictable. Riordan. Blake.” Malachi tipped his head, eyes narrowed as he tried to work out what was going on. “Give me two days to evaluate his weaknesses, then I’ll report back.” He frowned. “There’s one problem. I’ll never get close enough to kill him without a distraction.”

“By your hand,” I muttered breathlessly. “You want the girl? You wield the blade that cuts off the serpent’s head. Simple as that.”

I expected Malachi to make some smartass comment, but he didn’t. Instead, his eyes darkened, all traces of humor gone, a shimmer of glamour hovering around him. There was a good reason he was so feared among our kind, a reason he’d been rejected from every clan here and in the Old Country.

Killing his own Maker painted Draven as the worst sort of traitor, a crime that would follow him until his dying day.

“As you wish. I should have known you lacked the stomach to do the dirty work yourself. You try to double cross me, Marten, and I will take your head myself. I don’t fucking care which king you serve.”

Malachi disappeared in a swirl of his murky glamour, and Riordan was already moving, slamming his fist into the release on the wall, the bookcase sliding open to reveal an emergency cache of weapons and clothes.

“Why now?” His hands trembled when he opened the case. “Why the fuck can we feel her now ?”

“Because…because she’s dying. Because she’s scared to death? Fuck if I know.”

The only thing I did know? This helplessness was absolute, fucking torture.

It was one thing to think she was hiding to annoy us, another to know she was hurt, and…I was scared.

Scared in a way I hadn’t been in a long, long, time.

Scared, not for myself, but for someone else.

Scared by my own, utter helplessness.

Fear gnawed at me as I imagined a dozen different scenarios, all of them terrible. And that’s when I realized—far too late—that somewhere along the line, the little slayer had somehow worked her way under my thick skin.

“Two minutes and we’re in the wind.” Rohr tore off his suit jacket and yanked on a fitted leather reinforced with Kevlar. “What’s the best way to do this?” Strapping a sheath around his ankle, he slipped a knife in place, then another.

“A hundred miles per jump,” I decided, hesitating as I drew a shaky breath.

“I know where she is. Where I think she is,” I corrected myself. “The Silverwood family compound is in Virginia. My instincts tell me she’s got to be there, but we’ll make adjustments until we confirm I’m right. Then we kill whoever the fuck is hurting her.”

***

Fear made the little slayer easy to track, her terror a homing beacon pounding in my chest. With every jump, her panic grew more unhinged, as if she was losing control.

And hope.

“When’s the last time she fed?” I asked Rohr, hands braced on my knees, catching my breath before we dematerialized again. “Every emotion I’m getting is being filtered through a haze of hunger. She’s in real trouble, Rohr.”

“Two days ago?” he calculated, his eyes widening. “Longer?”

“That means not only is she hurt, she’s on the verge of bloodlust,” I muttered, and something like fear flashed over Riordan’s face.

“She’s in pain, she’s injured and she’s starving. She’s in Virginia, which means her family has her.” I closed my eyes. Now that I knew exactly where we were going, I could barely endure the onslaught of Evangeline’s terror twisting inside me like a living thing.

I pressed my lips together. “She’s too weak to escape. Or too badly injured.”

“Where are we going, Blake? How much further?”

She had to be at White Chapel, her family compound, she had to be. Now that we were closer, I was sure of it. But I was risking Evie’s life on an educated guess. If I was wrong…

“Blake, talk to me.” His face went bone-white, another wave of her pain leaving us both shaking.

“They’re killing her, Rohr.” I grunted. “She’s not through her transition and she’s still so vulnerable, so weak…” Fuck, why hadn’t I kept a closer eye on her? Why hadn’t I anticipated she’d run?

“Blake. Pull yourself together.” Riordan steadied himself, his face a mask of calm. “How close are we?”

I sucked in a lungful of heavy, humid air, the sun rising over a stifling southern morning. “One more jump to White Chapel, if I’m right…but she’s…I can’t tell exactly where she is. Everything’s muffled like she’s being held underground.”

The glow in Riordan’s midnight blue eyes dimmed. “Same. It’s like the closer we get, the more my instincts are getting scrambled.”

When I’d come here a few days ago to scope out the Silverwood compound, I’d surveilled the adjacent town and the acres of rolling pasture surrounding the property where she’d been raised. The wards surrounding the property. The armed guards.

I’d been furious with Evangeline then. Furious at her lies.

Furious at how quickly I’d fallen for her. How easily she’d tricked me with those big blue eyes and innocent-as-a-virgin act. Furious at my own vulnerability.

I wasn’t furious now, I was terrified.

“Why is she here?” I muttered, trying not to picture how badly she was injured. “I don’t understand why she’d come back, when she’s been running from her family most of her life.”

“She came to retrieve the dagger.” Riordan murmured. “I told her we needed it, and she came down here to steal it.”

“Her father…her uncles must have caught her.” Bile rose in my throat. “They caught her…and now they’re killing her.” My eyes locked with Rohr’s and my entire body went weak, my strength draining out of me.

This couldn’t be happening . I scrubbed the sweat off my face. I couldn’t lose Evie like this.

I couldn’t lose her… at all .

“We’ll get as close as we can.” Rohr’s voice sounded like it came from far away. I was drowning beneath waves of pain, smothering in the fear that Evangeline’s time was running out. “Once we have eyes on the situation, we’ll make our move. But if we don’t time this right, we’re likely to get her killed.”

Oh fuck, my knees weren’t going to hold me up.

Rohr’s hand landed firmly on my shoulder. “We’re going to save her, Blake. And once she’s safe, we’ll tear apart everyone who dared touch her.”

“You’re goddamned right.” Killing someone was exactly what I needed, right after I checked Evangeline over. Just the thought of gathering my little slayer up in my arms sent a wave of calmness over me, and then…I was fucking going to shred her father and uncles apart with my bare hands. I couldn’t make sense of all these out-of-control, conflicting emotions, but all that mattered was getting her out alive.

I landed in a worn-out hotel room littered with plastic cups and food wrappers, the rumpled bed sheets smelling sweet, like my little slayer. Rohr arrived a few seconds later, head swiveling around in disbelief.

“What the fuck is this?”

“Home base, if I’m not mistaken.” I strode to the window and pulled back the tattered plaid drapes to reveal an ancient green Plymouth parked outside, matching the description of the chop shop owner.

Closing them, I gave the room another once-over. Beneath the dust and the cleaning products lurked another scent, so faint I couldn’t detect whose, but the scent wasn’t Evie’s. Male, but that’s all I could discern beneath the strong bleach odor.

“She’s not here.”

“Yeah, no shit.” I focused harder, fighting to pinpoint her location. Definitely White Chapel .

Her fear had evolved into despair, yet everything was filtered through a haze. All I knew for sure—she was hurt, she was scared, and she’d given up. That utter hopelessness undid me, my fear softening into shame.

Hating Evangeline had been easy, a way to both honor my family’s memory and punish her, all in the name of justice. But justice had been my sister’s arena. Cass had been a warrior who’d taken on Goliath and lost.

All this time, I hadn’t been looking for justice.

I’d been after revenge, and I’d been taking my anger out on the wrong person.

“It feels like…she’s underwater or deep underground. I can’t get a precise read on her position.” I paced across the room and rifled through the nightstand, tossing Rohr the rolls of cash. Ten thousand dollars, maybe more.

“She planned to come back if she left these. Maybe there’s some kind of protective shield around the house, that’s why we can’t locate her.”

“White Chapel.” Riordan mulled that over. “Like a church. Could be the compound was built overtop a consecrated church on hallowed ground. That would track, for the Silverwoods.” Rohr looked frustrated enough to put his fist through the wall. “You’re older than I am. What do you think?”

“Hallowed ground would sap some of her strength, unless she had a talisman to protect her.”

Riordan slanted me a look. “She’s brand new, she wouldn’t know about such things yet.”

“Then that’s how they caught her. The second she set foot on the grounds, she would have started getting weaker and weaker. But I’ve never felt anything like this connection before.” I lashed out, my fist sinking through the cheap paneled wall. “I didn’t know it was possible to feel another vampire’s pain so…sharply.”

Why did I feel like I was about to lose everything? This suffering was every bit as sharp and poignant as the day I’d lost Cassie, I felt like my entire world was ending before my eyes and I couldn’t stop it.

“Me either, but I’ve never fucking Made anyone before.” Riordan’s eyes narrowed. “I know why you’re falling apart, but is this normal for a Maker’s bond? This feels almost like…” He drew an audibly shuddering breath. “No, that can’t be possible.”

My entire world ground to a halt.

“What the fuck do you mean you know why I’m falling apart ?”

“I didn’t mean anything. Forget it,” Rohr muttered, tossing the cash back in the drawer. “Once we stake out White Chapel, we’ll?—”

Shadows clogged the room as I gripped the front of his jacket and lifted him off the floor, shoulders groaning beneath the weight. “What. The. Fuck. Did you mean, Riordan?”

He bared his fangs and I bared mine right back, air hissing out of my nose as I hoisted him higher, my arms straining. “Tell me what you meant, you bastard, or I’ll toss you out that fucking window.”

“You’re fucking mated to Silver.” He hissed, like the words cost him, eyes narrowed in anger.

“You’re too goddamned blind to see the truth, but I see it just fine. Rubbing your chest every time you even think she’s in danger. Mooning over her every chance you get. Beating my ass because I’m feeding her and fucking her.”

“You can go straight to hell. My king .” I dropped him back onto the floor and stumbled back a step until my back hit the wall, my shadows sinking back under my skin. “She’s not my fucking mate. Even fate couldn’t be that fucking cruel.”

But I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think around the word hovering front and center in my mind.

Mate.

Like a fucking, undeniable truth, that word settled deep into me. No. No. NO.

Riordan straightened his coat. “I see what’s right in front of me. Unlike you. Now. Are we going to go get her, or are we going to stand around and argue?”

Riordan had to be wrong. Mates were rare and precious, something gifted once a generation to a chosen few. You knew the truth from the beginning. You want to pretend you didn’t, but you knew what she was that very first instant when your eyes locked and that split second became an eternity.

Everything inside me reeled, exactly how the world had spun after we’d been together for the first time, but now, there was no sense of rightness, no sense of possibility.

Now there was only the fear I was too late.

Fear turned to resolve, fury to focus. I would not fail her. Not this time.

“She’s right there.” I squinted toward the cloud-flecked sky. “Five miles, due south.”

“We can’t just rush in there.” Rohr was uncharacteristically somber as he studied me. “If they’re holding her on hallowed ground, then whoever has her knows she’s been turned. This could be Tyrell’s trap, although why he’d lure us all the way down here…”

“It’s her own goddamned family.”

I knew without a shred of doubt who had her. Who’d hurt her. Who had always hurt her, ever since she was a child. Hurt her enough she’d spent her life running.

Because it was the same sick bastard who’d hurt me.

Silas.

Shadows exploded out of me, slithering over the stained carpet like spilled ink, shaking the thin walls of the cheap hotel before I spooled them back. Nothing made sense…except for this terrible ache in my heart at the idea of her suffering. I couldn’t comprehend how Evangeline could possibly be my mate, but I no longer hated her for being a Silverwood.

I was just… done hating her .

A sense of peace swept over me, like a weight had been lifted, and fuck Riordan and his theory, but I swore that place beneath my heart grew a little bit warmer.