Page 11 of Fated In Forever (Nocturne Vampire Clan #4)

EVANGELINE

I didn’t like this.

Didn’t like the feeling I was standing on shifting sand, that nothing happening right now was real, that Malachi—under his ridiculous guise of being noble —was lying to me again.

That Nikolai and Brendan knew more than they were letting on.

That somehow, Blake and Riordan were in on the secret .

Hell, everyone in this room knew more than I did, which was infuriating.

I wanted to demand answers, to shake the truth from them until everything lay exposed between us.

But looking at Malachi—at the way he stayed so carefully still, the way his hands trembled just slightly at his sides, the way his pupils overran the amber in his eyes—I realized that keeping this secret was costing him dearly.

“If using my blood will save you,” I said finally, my voice stronger than I felt, “then we'll go back to the pool, and we'll fix this once and for all.”

Relief flickered across Malachi’s features, followed immediately by something that looked suspiciously like guilt.

Evangeline , he began, stepping toward me.

No , I said firmly, holding up a hand to stop him.

Don’t tell me lies that will only make everything worse.

I’ve agreed to go to France, even though that room is buried beneath an entire mountain of rock.

I’ve agreed to help you, even when it’s obvious you still don’t trust me.

But when this is over, when the curse is broken, when Ravok is dead, I want the whole truth.

About everything.

He nodded, but the haunted look in his eyes told me that I’d never get what I was asking.

“Fine then.” I grit my teeth and slipped my hand in my pocket, curled my fingers around the book.

“Just remember what I have in my pocket. If you want your precious book back, the only way you’ll get it is by telling me your secrets, and I don’t have a single qualm about burning this thing to ashes, because while it means something to you, it means nothing to me. ”

While we waited for Brendan to make arrangements, I asked Riordan to get word to Angel—my sister had to be worried, and I certainly hadn’t expected to end up in Ireland when we’d left Crimson House less than a day ago.

Now that we were heading back to France…there was no telling what might happen.

What had happened there was terrible, but dread slithered through my veins, my magic churning like a wild river as I wondered what might happen when we returned, given the rift and the magic and the collapsed tunnels.

I doubted my sister would care much about my fate—she did have Bex, after all—but I didn’t want her to worry, because stress was bad for the baby. Rohr kissed my cheek and promised me he would.

Aisling brought in food, but I couldn’t eat, not with my nerves on edge, my gaze constantly wandering back to Malachi, hunched in the corner by the fireplace.

Every time I looked at him, his eyes darted away, yet every time I was drawn into a conversation, I felt the weight of that consuming gaze land on me once more.

Secrets .

All these goddamned secrets, so many little evasions, I wanted to scream.

I wanted to demand answers, implore him to simply tell me the truth, for once.

But… he wouldn’t . Not with his sense of misplaced nobility and his fear of hurting me, and somehow, somehow —I knew he would be the one to pay the price.

And France…something terrible was waiting for us in France, something I wasn’t seeing, and my panic ramped up every hour, as I imagined a thousand horrific possibilities waiting there.

Finally, I took Blake’s hand and tugged him away from the table. “I need to get out of here. Let’s find somewhere to talk.”

After navigating the bewildering number of rooms off the maze of hallways, we found an empty room—a sitting room—in sedate, muted colors, with a big vase of lilies that were pretty, even if the sweet scent was overpowering.

“Let me hold you,” Blake murmured, pulling me against him. Something sharp and urgent rushed through me before wrapping around my chest and squeezing. I felt like we were all rushing toward the precipice, and there was nothing I could do to stop us from plummeting over the edge.

“Okay,” Blake’s lips moved against my ear. “Everything will be okay,” he said again, like he was trying to convince himself and I felt every shuddering breath, every sigh at the end of his exhales, every finger digging into my back as he gripped me like he’d never let me go.

“I’m fine,” I pulled back to get a closer look at his face. “You’re the one who’s bleeding. The one who refused to see a healer,” I reminded him, with a touch of righteous heat.

“You’re the one who got whisked away by an eight-foot monster.” He countered, like this was some kind of competition.

“Well, you are keeping secrets from me and it’s pissing me off, so there.” I snapped, because this was a competition. One I was damn well going to win.

“Evie, I’m not keeping anything from you. Malachi simply asked Riordan and I to watch over you. In case this ritual doesn’t work, or something goes wrong.”

“It’s going to work.” I relaxed, leaning into my mate, letting his hands drift over my body, checking, rechecking, like he always did. And when his lips found my throat, I closed my eyes, barely stopping my contented sigh from slipping out.

Maybe not stopping my sigh at all, from the way his fangs punched out and scraped down along my vein, Blake cradling my head in one big palm, the other braced against the small of my back, pinning me against him. This was… why did this feel so good ?

Like all I could think about was the warm, wet swipe of his tongue, the way he dug his fangs in, hard enough to dent my skin, but not break through, the firm, commanding way he held me, how heated my blood was, and…he went still, his hands gripping my arms

“What are these, Evangeline?” He breathed, warmth washing over my throat where his lips had been a second ago. He slowly dragged his fingers over the same spot, like he’d found something…wrong, and whatever peace I’d been feeling fractured apart.

“I don’t know…what? What do you see?”

“These look like…. but it can’t be .” Blake shook his head, closing his eyes like he was trying to block something out. “I’m sure it’s the lighting in here, it’s so dark…”

I pulled away, fear tightening my body, reflected in his face. “Just tell me,” I said, reaching for my throat, dragging my fingers over the spot enough times he snared my wrist, his eyes going wide.

Not as wide as mine, when I saw what spooked him.

Faint black veins on the top of my hand, trailing out from beneath my sleeve, a poor imitation of Romulus’s, but very definitely there. “Is this The Darkening? Is my blood somehow corrupted?” I breathed, biting the rest of my words off.

Was this Ravok’s spell?

Am I going to turn into an eight-foot monster, too?

What the fuck?

“Let’s not panic,” Blake muttered, far too late, because I was most definitely panicking.

“Panic about what?’ Riordan closed the door behind him, his eyes bouncing between us. “Or should I hazard a guess?” When neither of us answered, he crossed the room in two strides, “What’s happened, Evangeline? Does this have to do with Malachi?”

“I’m…” I shook my head and pulled my sleeve back, showed him my arm.

Worse . Even worse than I imagined, and it definitely wasn’t the lighting in here.

The veins spread all the way up my arm, almost invisible to the naked eye, but reaching to my shoulder, and I resisted the sudden urge to rip my clothes off and see if I was covered in them .

“This could be anything.” Blake said quickly. “You were in that room a long time, you were in that water, near the portal, and all that magic leaking from the ley line…chances are, there’s a simple explanation. We’ll ask Fiona,” he decided. “See what she makes of this.”

“Or Brendan,” I said under my breath. “He seems like the resident expert on spells gone wrong.”

Like me, Riordan was trying to get his bearings. “This can’t be the Darkening. It can’t.” He pulled me against him and I went. Willingly. Gladly. Grateful to be held up by strong arms and an even stronger body, even if he did smell like brimstone.

Even if I was still damp, my clothes filthy.

“Do you feel different, Evie?” Blake had his feet braced apart, hands clenched, typical I’m-about-to-go-to-war stance, except there was nothing for him to fight. “Has anything changed? give me a rundown.”

My heart pounded. I could have said no and gone about the next few hours—or days—agonizing internally over everything that had changed, but…I decided to take a leap of faith instead. I’d made a slew of pretty promises to them about trust, and here was my first real test.

Sharing something that scared me to my bones.

“Yes. Something is different,” my throat closed up, my heart pounding faster.

“I thought it was just…stress, but there is something between Malachi and I now. I…uhm…” I took a breath, then another.

“Ravok had Malachi suspended over the pool, using Aria’s magic.

Then he cut my arm, and when my blood touched the water, the pool came alive.

Then it…uhm…enveloped him. Like a living cocoon. ”

Neither of them reacted, but the shadows grew deeper, the air a little colder. Out in the hallway, footsteps hurried past, along with the hum of hushed conversation .

“Ravok was gloating about how he’d rule the world, how he would use the two of us as his slaves and I had to do something .

So I jumped. Over the pool, and into the middle of the spell, I guess.

The water enveloped me, too, and the next thing I knew, I was laying on my back in the pool and Malachi was transforming into… well, what he is now.”

Pinching my lips together, I fought the sudden urge to cry. “That’s what the ritual was about, wasn’t it? Not to restore Malachi, but to break this…connection between us?” From the way Blake shifted his feet and Riordan wouldn’t meet my eyes, I was right.

And I hated that I was right.

I couldn’t explain why I had this wild urge to race out of this room and find Malachi and touch him, make sure he was okay. Why would breaking some bond between us send me into a full-on anxiety attack?

But before I could yell at them for lying, or caved into my fear, or any of the thousand deflective ways I’d usually deal with the fact I had literal black veins crawling beneath my skin, the door opened and Aisling popped her head through the crack.

“There you are.” She said brightly, her smile fading when she took in our faces. “How would you like some clean clothes? And a hot bath, since it looks like you’re not a bit hungry?”

“I would love a bath.” I traded a long look with Blake, slipping out of Riordan’s arms.

“And clean clothes…” I picked at my disgusting outfit. “Even better.”