Page 39 of Fated In Forever (Nocturne Vampire Clan #4)

MALACHI

T he silence was the worst part.

Which I hadn’t expected, because when you lived as long as I had, you got used to the quiet.

The long stretches of time—years, decades, centuries—between finding a real friend, someone you could trust. Vampires you could at least stand being around. Those you could barely tolerate, but filled the empty spaces. For my own sanity, I’d grown to accept the fact I would always be alone.

Then Evangeline burst into my life.

Filling every day with color and noise and an angsty sort of emotional chaos I never thought I would miss, but would give anything to have back.

And so, the silence that followed Evangeline's departure was a living death, a constant reminder of what I’d given up, pressing against my chest, crushing what little remained of my soul.

I felt that aching loss every day in our broken bond, in the echoing stillness, in the way I would reach out…only to find nothing on the other end.

But as I suffered, I reminded myself she did not.

She was protected from the pain, and always would be.

Perhaps her memories would fade in time, and I would slip away altogether and maybe that would be a blessing, too.

I let her believe the bond broke because of the price exacted by The Book, when in actuality, I had no idea what the real price of Evangeline’s freedom was.

Maybe her being gone was price enough.

Months had passed since I'd watched her disappear. Months since I'd last heard her voice, seen her face, felt the warmth of her presence that had made the Underworld bearable.

No, more than bearable.

This castle had felt like a home.

I sat in the throne room, on the throne, which was the only place I actually fit, trying to convince myself it had all been for the best. She was safe now.

She was home, with Blake and Riordan, where she belonged.

Whatever changes this place had wreaked upon her body had stopped, and Fiona would be working day and night to reverse the damage.

That knowledge was the only thing that made the crushing loneliness endurable.

I can bear this, I told myself, the words echoing in the vast emptiness around me.

I have endured other losses. I can endure this.

But even as I spoke the words, I knew they were a lie. Nothing I had suffered in two millennia of existence compared to the world-shaking ache of my soul mate’s absence.

When I couldn’t remain still any longer—when the silken sheets on my bed and the faint scent of flowers in the halls became too fucking much—I wandered out of the castle, determined to explore this realm—my realm.

The Underworld stretched endlessly in all directions, a maze of black, caverns and corridors, abysses and craters.

I had mapped out every inch of the castle, but this was the first time I’d been outside, and I plunged into the valley, followed by a stream of lost souls.

Adrift, hopeless, with nowhere to go.

At least we were all in the same fucking boat.

I had been walking for hours when I heard the sound of rushing water, impossibly loud in the perpetual quiet of this place.

Such an odd sound, that at first, I didn’t register what I was hearing.

But when I emerged onto a vast cliff, there it was: a river so wide I could barely make out the opposite shore, its waters dark as midnight and moving with a current that seemed to tug at the shadows above those churning waves.

But it wasn't the river itself that made me stop and stare in wonder. It was what lined the closest bank.

Souls . Thousands upon thousands of lost souls, glowing at the water's edge like a ribbon of pure light. The ones around me danced faster, their ethereal forms flickering in excitement as I started down the hill.

At the water's edge, I knelt and dipped my fingers into the current. The water was cold beyond description, and I felt the pull of those dark depths immediately—a force that would drag me down to the bottom and pin me there as I fought for breath.

I wondered if I could die.

Or would I remain there forever, drowning, over and over again.

The ribbon of light was shifting, spooling toward me, like I was a fucking soul magnet and this close, from this many, I was able to hear them.

Whispers of sound, indistinct murmuring, nothing I could understand, except for their intent.

En masse, they pushed me, pushed me along the stony bank, their hush hush voices blending into the river’s roar.

My feet were not made for this rocky sand, the chunks of obsidian worked up between my toes, and I had to stop more than once to pick them out. By the time I stopped, the bottoms of my feet were cut, bleeding, raw.

For too long, I stared at the reason I’d stopped.

The boat, strange and solid and real, looked like something out of my nightmares.

The vessel had to be fifty feet long, flat and curved, like a Viking longboat, with one seat in the center and two tall carved open-mouthed gargoyles rising from both the hull and the keel. No sail, no place for oars, but the surface of the hull was covered in carved swirls, like waves.

A heavy chain was piled on the shore, every square forged link marked with the same runes that marked everything else in this place. I picked them up and studied the strange figures by the light cast by the swirling souls, a vague understanding taking hold.

Then stared at the boat.

Carved from obsidian, there was no way this thing would float, no way it wouldn’t sink beneath that crushing current like a rock, no way I was getting into that fucking thing, because despite all my years, I’d never learned to do one very basic thing.

Swim.

Stupid, given the task staring me in the face, but there it was. The reason I was here.

My task. Taking the souls across to the very dark opposite shore, where they’d…who the fuck knew? Live a life of ha ppiness and comfort in the equally grim and barren other side?

But these were the souls trapped in this liminal realm with no way forward and no way back, and they’d been trapped here for an eternity. Or since the last Orcus kicked it.

And now, I was supposed to be their ferryman.

I could have refused. Could have turned away and left them to their eternal waiting. I could have gone back and sat in my throne and pined away for Evie, who would kick my ass if she knew I’d chosen wallowing in self-pity over helping those in need.

Besides. I wanted her to be proud of me, and even though she’d never know of my good deed, I’d know, and there was seriously something wrong with me that I was even considering this.

And yet, I found myself saying, “Well, don’t dither about. I’m not going to wait around forever. Get in.”

Was there a weight limit?

Did souls even weigh anything?

I remembered something about a scale and a feather, but I wasn’t sure that theory applied here. Or hell, maybe it did. Who knew? This place didn’t exactly come with an instruction manual. I was winging it.

They rushed in, a swarm of fireflies, glowing brighter than I’d ever seen them, and somehow, that made me feel good.

Like they might be happy. Like I was doing something good that made them happy, and who the fuck was I kidding, because this fucking boat was going to sink, the second we got too far out and I was going to spend the rest of my pathetic existence drowning.

While the souls loaded themselves in, I picked up the chain again, inspecting the tools I had to work with .

The chain was anchored into the shoreline by an enormous spike, then fed through the open mouths of the gargoyles. The other end disappeared beneath the river’s churning surface, but I had a feeling I understood the assignment.

Get this boat to the other side, through sheer brute strength.

When the boat was full—overflowing, we’d never pass a safety check, good thing this was hell—I climbed aboard, groaning as the boat shifted beneath my weight. The seat was large enough to accommodate me, and I settled in and picked up the chain and began to pull.

Every heave dragged the hull across the stony shore, and then we were floating—no, not floating, being tossed wildly around by the currents, and every time I pulled us closer to the opposite shore, we tipped back and forth, like we were caught in a storm.

By the time I dragged the cursedly heavy boat up on the opposite shore, which I would have kissed on my hands and knees, except my hands were a bloody mess, my knees the same from bracing myself against the deck, every muscle, every bone in my battered body ached.

But as the souls flooded happily onto the shore, something else washed through me.

Something I had experienced so very little in my life, I had to stop and examine it.

Pride . I’d done this. I’d given them…something.

But as I watched them dance away through the darkness and disappear—without so much as a thank you—I knew I’d found my purpose.

Then I had to get the motherfucking boat back, which was a bitch, because it was unwieldly and unbalanced, and I guessed souls did weigh something, because I nearly capsized and fuck my life.

I managed two more boatful’s, every crossing more treacherous, the dark current fighting me at every stroke, trying to pull us under or sweep us downstream into unknown depths. But I hung onto that chain, my will stronger than the river, my determination not to drown absolute.

On the far shore, the souls disembarked and disappeared, heading toward whatever peace awaited them beyond. I watched them go with a satisfaction that made me happy and cringy at the same time.

And when I limped back to the castle, and collapsed on the bed that still smelled like us, I slept better than I had since she’d left.

I took four boatloads across the next day.

Five, the next.

Weeks passed, or perhaps months—time moved strangely in the Underworld, until I had lost all sense of its passage.

My task was all that mattered. I ferried group after group across the dark waters, my arms burning with effort, my back aching from the constant rowing.

But with each crossing, my sense of purpose grew stronger.

This was something good.

Something worthwhile.

Something that mattered.

But every day, no matter how many I took across, more souls appeared on the bank. Hundreds became thousands, thousands became millions. They stretched back from the water's edge in an endless sea, like a glowing ocean of light.

Billions of souls.

More than I could count, more than I could possibly ferry in a dozen lifetimes .

The realization should have been crushing. Should have made me drop the chain and abandon this impossible task. But instead, I smiled, filled with a strange kind of peace.

Evie would have called this job security .

This is what I was meant for, I realized as I guided another boatload across the treacherous waters.

Not to rule the Underworld as some terrible dark prince, like that witch’s curse had foretold.

But to serve as a bridge between worlds, a guardian who could help the lost find their way home.

Always, as I rowed back toward the shore where countless souls waited, I thought of Evangeline. How she was safe and happy, surrounded by those who loved her. How the blocking spell on her bond, prevented her from feeling any pain, while I reveled in mine.

Every aching twinge reminded me of what we’d shared, every night I laid awake with this throbbing pain proved to me what we’d had was real, and precious and eternal. Evangeline had shown me that redemption was possible, that even someone like me could choose to be something better.

And this was my choice.

To remain here, in this place of endings, and help as many souls as I could find peace. My task would take forever—literally forever—but I had forever to give.

The loneliness was still there, a constant ache in my chest where her warmth used to live.

But it was bearable now, transformed into something that felt like hope.

I would never see her again, would never hold her or hear her laugh or watch her eyes light up with that fierce intelligence, but I could honor her by becoming the best version of myself.

The version she’d seen, when everyone else only saw a traitor.

I dragged the boat up onto the shore, my hands now calloused enough they ceased to bleed, my feet crunching on the rocky shore as I faced the sea of souls still waiting.

I will not abandon you, I added silently, though I wasn't sure if I was speaking to the souls or to a memory of blue eyes and golden hair, and for the first time since Evangeline's departure, I felt something that might have been peace.

No, I would be back here tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that.

I was exactly where I was supposed to be, doing exactly what I was meant to do.

After all, what was eternity when spent in service to something greater than oneself?