Page 74 of Fated In Forever (Nocturne Vampire Clan #4)

EVANGELINE

F rom what little I could see, sandwiched against the wall by Blake’s muscular body, the chamber was a nightmare come to life.

The pool, once a sheet of pure reflective silver, had been corrupted into something obscene.

Its surface was midnight black, a faint mist rolling off the surface that made my skin crawl.

Ley line magic choked the room, but the iridescent particles gave that dark water a wide berth, hovering up near the ceiling.

On the other side of the opening, backs flat against the wall, Riordan and Eldric took turns glancing around the corner into the room, where the portal, at least, was still dormant, though the very air around it pulsed, and the ancient runes carved into the chamber walls were glowing with a darker light now, almost black.

Ravok and Malachi faced each other like two ancient forces, light and dark, good and evil, if you wanted to wax all philosophical.

The Elder looked strong, no sign of injury or weakness, but his eyes... his eyes were bright with madness, darting around the chamber too quickly, his tongue continually swiping his bottom lip when he turned toward the doorway, searching the darkness of the corridor .

Not normal darkness, but Blake’s shielding shadows, swirling around us in a protective cloak.

“Ah, Malachi,” Ravok said without turning, his voice echoing through the chamber. “Your family has arrived. That’s how you think of them now, isn’t it? Family?” He spat out the word. “One thing I never thought you’d become was sentimental, and yet, here we are.”

Where is Romulus ? I asked everyone in the vicinity. He has to be somewhere.

You shouldn’t have come . Malachi gave me a vague shake of his head, his attention never leaving his Maker, a faint haze of ambient magic floating off his shoulders, like he couldn’t contain his powers. The portal behind him darkened, watching, like a hungry, sentient being.

“You're just in time,” Ravok continued, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “All my visions come to fruition tonight.”

Malachi shook his head, like he was scolding an errant child. “No, they won’t.”

“I am never wrong.” Ravok’s smile was sharp as a blade, sweat sliding down his face, his neck, soaking into his shirt. “You forget who you are. My creation. The blood oath may be broken, but there are other bonds—older, deeper, more fundamental to your very nature.”

“No,” he said simply. “You have no hold over me. Not any longer.”

“Deny the truth all you want, but you will always be my slave.” Ravok's dark chuckle echoed through the corrupted chamber, considering Malachi as if he were nothing more than an annoying insect.

And Malachi didn’t look threatening, in his dark velvet jacket and open shirt, standing at perfect ease, hands loose at his sides, no sign of tension in his shoulders. Waiting…for what, I didn’t know.

“You always were foolish,” Ravok’s voice dripped with condescension.

“So much potential, yet so limited by your pathetic attachments to mortals.” Even through Blake’s cloak of shadows, the Elder’s too-bright gaze fixed on me with predatory interest. “Did you come to watch him die? Because this place will become your tomb. fitting, I suppose, for you all to end up here, together.”

Behind Malachi, a mist of red magic traced over the edge of the portal, then those shadows ground into motion, like a heavy, ancient engine firing after a long rest, I could almost hear the groan as they began to spin. The dark pool rippled, sending up more of that foul smelling mist.

Does anyone see Romulus? He has to be here somewhere.

He must be glamoured. Blake answered. But that’s stolen magic, if I’ve ever seen it.

I didn’t know if Ravok was too blinded by hate and power to see what was happening around him, or if he didn’t care, but this would not be like last time.

Last time, the pool, the portal and the ley line worked together, like three symbiotic entities.

Now…it was almost like the three powers were at war.

“…I am older than the foundations of this mountain, stronger than the forces that shaped the realms themselves. You will never be anything, even though I gave you everything…”

Ravok continued to rant, face shining with sweat, dark power crackling in the air, the portal beginning to spin in earnest now, the corrupted pool boiling like a tar pit.

What the fuck do we do ? Riordan asked.

Stay the fuck out of this , Blake said, pressing me tighter to the wall, more of his shadows swirling around us, a protective barrier that might— might —keep us protected from the tension about to explode inside that room.

I shoved against Blake. I’m not leaving him in there alone, damn it. I won’t.

Evie, look at them. Can’t you feel the amount of power inside that room? Blake leaned into me, until I could barely move. Remember what happened before? Too much magic almost killed you. I won’t risk you again. Give Malachi his chance. This is what he wants.

He’s right, Vicious. This is between the two of us. It always has been.

“You see, while you've been playing house with these inferior creatures, I discovered how to make myself into a god.” Ravok spread his arms wide. “If the blood of a Silverwood can make my slave into a deity, imagine what it will do for me—one born of Caine’s blood.”

Romulus crept out of the shadows, as if they’d spawned him. He wasn't alone. Beside him skulked two figures that turned my blood to ice—Dante and Alistair.

What was left of them.

“You remember your uncles, Evangeline?” Ravok asked with mock sweetness. “Such devoted followers, unlike Malachi here. They were so eager to help once I... convinced them of the righteousness of my cause.”

You were right , Malachi murmured in my head. But spilling such corrupted blood into an already corrupted pool…

His eyes snapped to mine, then to Blake. Get out of here. Get Evangeline out and get her away from this place.

“Now we will see, now we will see…” Ravok muttered to himself, motioning to Romulus, who limped forward with something glinting in his hand—that silver blade, or one just like it.

“Now you will all know my visions were right…” There was a frantic urgency to Ravok, in his clenching hand s, the beads of sweat on his brow, the way he mumbled to himself.

Romulus moved behind my uncles, stolen witch power crackling around his fingers—Aria's red magic, twisted, but still potent. Romulus wove complex patterns in the air, his lips moving with a spell that made the stone around us shudder.

We need to kill that fuck , Riordan unsheathed a gun, one of Nash’s, if I wasn’t mistaken. One shot, this all ends. Ravok needs that magic to make this work.

His ritual won’t work anyway. I tried to reason past my panic, think this through . This won’t work. The pool is corrupted, my uncle’s blood is, too. Romulus can copy Aria’s magic, but he’s not a witch. This is going to go wrong.

Badly wrong. And Malachi was right there, in the same room.

And we’re right outside. Blake’s hand wrapped around my upper arm. Malachi’s right. I’m getting you out of here. Rohr, I’ll come straight back, then we’ll take these fucks down.

But it was already done.

The blade moved, black ichor flowed from precise cuts on both my uncles' throats, dripping steadily into the black, roiling surface of the corrupted pool.

Where their blood touched the darkness, the liquid began to churn more violently, and the half-formed portal behind Ravok yawned wide, like a gaping mouth.

Wind pulled at Malachi’s hair, whipping across my face, sucking away Blake’s shadows, devouring the residue of red witch magic, the light from the glowing runes.

With one shove from Romulus, my uncles splashed into the pool face down, and sank, without so much as a struggle. His entire body shook, but he raised his hands, black threads of power shooting like plasma into the runes on the ceiling.

Get her out. Malachi’s voice boomed in my head, and Blake’s hand clamped down on my shoulder. Get her out before you can’t.

“I can’t,” Blake muttered through grit teeth. “I’ve been trying, but like before, I can’t dematerialize.”

On the opposite side of the door, Riordan shook his head, frustration painted all over his face.

His body was already transforming, but so much differently than Malachi’s had inside that red cocoon.

This metamorphosis was grotesque, ashy blackness stained his skin, his neck, was creeping up over his jawline.

His skull expanded, not like he was growing horns, but his entire head was becoming mishappen.

“When I ascend, and I will ascend,” Ravok’s ranting rose to match the growing chaos around us, “I will reduce this entire realm to ash. And then…” His mad eyes gleamed.

“Then I begin again in the next realm. And the next one after that. God of everything, architect of a new reality, who will stop me?”

His body was already transforming, a sickly color stained his skin, his neck, crept up over his jawline. His skull expanded, not like he was growing horns, but like his entire head was formed from bone.

Behind him, the portal continued to expand, the runes overhead burned with black fire, those black fingers stretching out of the portal into the room, reaching for Ravok, like they were waiting to snatch the prodigal son out of midair.

Malachi turned, his eyes locking with mine, “Get her out of here, Marten, or I swear to the gods…”