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

MALACHI/ORCUS

I kept Evangeline close as we followed Brendan Thorne down one floor, where the chalky lime smell stung my over-sensitive nose and the stones held all the dampness of Ireland in their old, aching bones.

This was a relief, to get away from all those thoughts and emotions and fears clogging the room above us.

I heard everything.

Felt everything.

Knew everything, as if I was an unwilling voyeur to every last secret in everyone’s minds. Being around that many vampires at once was like enduring chaos itself, but thankfully, down here, the stone dampened those voices screaming inside my head.

I didn’t know what to make of myself.

My body was too cumbersome for these small spaces, every one of my senses too sharp. My skin was on fire, my instincts roaring for me to rip apart every threat to Evangeline, and it had been a constant battle to keep my claws from accidently tearing out someone’s throat.

Vicious was consuming me from the inside out with a slow, aching thoroughness.

Her smell, her touch, her closeness.

Every mouthwatering nuance became a searing need that pounded through my veins, urging me to take, take, take , especially now as she gripped my hand tightly, leading me down the steps, as I ducked through doorways not meant for anyone my size, my shoulders scraping against rough stone more than once.

We ended up in Brendan’s office, a stuffy, dismal affair of half read books and a lamp with a burned-out lightbulb that spoke of too many lonely nights spent without Lyra, his queen.

Five minutes around the male, and I knew every last detail of their doomed love affair.

How they defied Lilith herself to be together, followed by centuries of happiness, then the birth of their daughter, Aisling, who had to remain a secret, but was the joy of their lives, until an Elder came calling and those happy lives fell apart.

Now Lyra was dead, by Nikolai’s hand, who was now his daughter’s mate.

Strange, indeed, how the world worked.

Little glimpses of irony that would be funny, if they were not so sad.

I settled onto an old, sturdy bench in the corner of the room, elbows tucked in, shoulders rounded, listening to Vicious painstakingly recount the last hours in detail as Brendan made notes.

I didn’t remember much after the water’s cold embrace had enveloped me in a wash of pain, nothing except I’d made Evie swear she’d kill me, if I became a monster.

Now I was that monster.

And she had promised. Even if she’d crossed her fingers behind her back, as she was wont to do, I meant to hold her to that oath.

“Orcus?” Brendan looked thoughtful. “The Roman god of the Underworld? And you said there was a portal leading to a different realm, do you know where?”

“Somewhere dark and filled with shadows, and I saw what looked like red lightning.” Evie recounted. “But the portal never factored into the ritual, the magic from the ley line was what changed Malachi, that and whatever was in the water.”

“What was in the water?”

Her shoulders slumped. “My blood. Ravok cut my arm, and made me bleed into the pool, which turned the water red, and seemed to…activate the spell, somehow. That was a key part of the ritual.” Panicked, I reached out and took her arm, and yes, there on the inside of her arm, carved into her perfect, pale skin, was a long, jagged scar.

Hatred welled up like bubbling poison, my chest rumbling.

Stop. I’m fine. It’s over, and now we need to worry about how to get you back to your old, arrogant self.

He hurt you. All I could see was that silver athame in Ravok’s hand, the jagged proof of his cruelty in Evangeline’s skin. He marked you. A tidal wave of rage roared through me, eclipsing everything.

Stop. Vicious skimmed her delicate fingers across my hand and the rage stopped, shadows disappearing. I’m alive, because of you. We came here for a reason, Malachi, now what do you need Brendan to do? Tell me how he can fix this.

I didn’t have the heart to tell her we weren’t here for me.

That there was not enough magic in the world to fix this.

“Why your blood?” Brendan asked slowly. “What is so special about it?”

Vicious bit her lip, looked uncertainly to me and after a moment, I nodded. “Because my given name is Evangeline Silverwood. I’m the daughter of Silas Silverwood.” She swallowed, and I despised the bitter tang of guilt seeping from her. “But trust me, they were never my family.”

She grasped my hand, her pale fingers wrapping around mine.

“I’m one of you now. Riordan turned me, and Blake is my mate, and Malachi…

well, we’re still working things out, I suppose, but I know exactly where I belong.

” For a moment, I got lost in the depths of her beautiful eyes, in the utter trust she put in me.

“Then what, exactly, do you need from me?” Brendan asked, looking between us. “Why did you come?”

Let me explain to him, mind to mind, what I need. It will be faster that way, I assured her, hoping she wouldn’t question my sudden unwillingness to have her acting as my intermediary. I firmed my grip on her hand. If you could warn him, that would be helpful.

Evangeline narrowed her eyes, her heart slowing down as she searched my face for my true motives. Clever girl. “Malachi wants to speak to you mind to mind, if that would be all right?”

Brendan set down his pen, his expression turning wary as he braced his hands on the desk. “Tell him I’m ready whenever he is.”

She is to know nothing of this conversation. Not a single word, do you understand? Swear it.

Brendan blew out a resigned breath, as if he expected this all along.

You have my word. I expect you have good reason for leaving your soul bonded mate out of this, but go ahead.

His expression cracked at my snort of surprise, What?

You didn’t think I’d notice? There’s a reason you came to me, Draven, now start talking.

Not only did Evangeline’s blood instigate the ritual, she threw herself into the middle of it, just as I was transforming. Somehow, she prevented me from turning completely into Orcus, and now we’re bonded. I need to know what that means.

It means you get a reprieve. You should thank your lucky stars, it’s more than you deserve.

Not what it means for me, asshole, what does this mean for her? I need you to break this bond between us, so when I turn the rest of the way, I don’t drag her down with me.

When did you become so noble, Draven? The last time I saw you was over a pile of dead bodies.

They fucking deserved their punishment and you know it. Don’t play high and mighty with me, Thorne. We both know what you did for love. Did you do any less? Did you let Lyra spend the rest of her life in the hands of a cruel, power-hungry male? No you didn’t.

How can you know that? His keen gaze narrowed, hand moving toward the knife hidden in his drawer. There are only a handful of vampires who know the truth.

I know more than I’d like, trust me. But that is not why I’m here. Can you break the bond and free Evangeline or not? His face fell and I leaned back—as much as my bulk would allow, pulling Evie into my lap, praying the bench held and we didn’t end up on Brendan’s floor.

I had to hold her. She was worried. Scared .

And I hated these emotions flowing from her, emotions I felt more intensely than my own.

I tugged her until she was tight against my chest, gently running my finger down the crease between her brows—the one that had been there since we’d arrived—and didn’t stop until she relaxed with an annoyed exhale .

No, I didn’t think so. Now break this bond between us. You’ve done such things before, and I will not go to my grave knowing she’s shackled to me.

It’s not that simple.

Fine. If you won’t help me, I’ll ask Esme, then. That’s where I should have gone first. I should have gone straight to the Sanctum and demanded she return The Book, not wasted my time with Brendan Thorne’s outdated idea of right and wrong.

Esme is dead.

My heart stopped beating for a moment, my mind turning into a black hole. That’s impossible. Nothing could kill Esme, nothing… Except an Elder. And that’s when I finally put all the pieces together.

All the rumors, all the secrets surrounding this clan for these past months.

Esme had been killed fighting the Elders.

No, knowing her, Esme was killed defending her library from the Elders. Because her library hid many, many secrets. I should know, because one of my own was down there, somewhere.

How? When?

A month ago. And yes, it was one of the Elders, and no, this clan will never be the same.

“She’s buried in the graveyard. Under the Hawthorne tree in the garden.

” Brendan explained aloud, Evie stiffening in my arms, “Gone six weeks, yet there are days I swear I still feel her in the castle, leaving behind little bits of gold dust dancing in the air. Aisling took over the library, which is what Esme would have wanted.”

“Who’s…Esme?” Evie asked softly. “A friend of yours?”

I tightened my grip around her, as the scent of jealousy leached from her skin, her body tensing. Somehow, that sharp jab of possessiveness soothed my soul, knowing that even in this form, she still cared about me.

Just a friend, I soothed . One I’ve known almost as long as I’ve been vampire.

“Esme was the clan librarian. She was killed recently during an attack by the Elders,” Brendan shook his head. “A loss we will never recover from.”

I need this bond between us broken. I told Brendan. Today. Within the next hour.

Already, more of me had slipped away, my head churning out black thoughts and an overwhelming need to punish. The nature of a god who had no business existing in this world, and should have remained in his own.

Have you considered the cost to your mate, should you break the bond? The effects will be devastating. I cannot sever the connection without pain. Are you prepared for that?

Better a little pain now, than a lifetime of suffering, I told him.

Lies. All of it lies.

I don’t know what else to do and she is all that matters. The thought of her spending an eternity—hundreds of years, possibly—suffering because she is tied to me is a sin I cannot be responsible for.

“Very well. Give me time to make some preparations.” Brendan straightened his shoulders, eyeing the two of us, crammed into the corner.

In my lap, Evie pushed away, that crease back between her brows, her eyes darting between us. This is for the best , I told myself again. Better she let me go now, than spend months or even years shackled to a monster.

“What kind of preparations?” Evie demanded. “This won’t hurt him, will it? ”

Not a fucking word, Thorne. I’ll explain everything to her when I’m ready.

Brendan’s lips thinned out. “We’ll be doing this in the training room. Nikolai recently fortified the wards, so it should withstand whatever magic we throw at them. Stay here, give me an hour, and I’ll come get you when we’re ready.”