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EVANGELINE

F iona was waiting for me nearly in the same spot Malachi had frozen her in place, staring out over the gardens with a gloomy expression.

I pressed a hand to my belly, anxiety and magic thrumming at my center, my new power refilling faster than I could control, probably because of Riordan and Blake’s blood flowing through me like liquid energy.

The whole way down here I tried shoving those dark flames back into the silver box, but…I wasn’t even sure the box existed anymore, buried beneath layers of shadow.

The night air was saturated with the scent of spicy phlox and crabapple blossoms, but beneath the floral sweetness lay a tension thick enough to wrap around my throat. My worry spilled over as I veered off the path toward her, wondering why she was waiting for me in the middle of the night.

“Evangeline.” Her golden eyes flicked coolly over me. “You and I have a lot to catch up on.”

“You can start by telling me the truth, Fiona. You knew I was a Bloodmoon witch—you knew who Aoife was—the first time you saw my magic.”

Fiona sighed, her fingers digging into her temples. The lines around her eyes deepened, and for the first time, she looked old. Not old-old, since she appeared less than thirty, but weighed down by the world. Tired. Mortal .

“Guilty as charged. I did plan to tell you, eventually ,” she murmured, so low her voice was almost lost beneath the shifting branched overhead. “But I wasn’t sure. How could I be, when there have been no other witches with your magic for centuries?”

A bitter laugh escaped me, along with a vague brackish mist, turning the closest plants to ice. “You knew what I was—what I am—and you kept that to yourself? My magic is dangerous , Fiona. I could have hurt someone.”

Her gaze was heavy, unreadable. “Not while it was locked down. I hoped to teach you how to use your power. How to control it. I had a plan .”

“A plan?” My voice rose, raw and sharp. “Well, that went to shit, the second Malachi dragged me out of here.”

Fiona’s lips pressed into a thin line. “You were never going to be a normal witch, Evangeline. And now that you’re a vampire…I’m not sure what you are. Something…different.”

The words should have cut me. They should have made me feel like some kind of monster. But instead, they confirmed exactly how I felt, deep down inside. I didn’t fit anywhere. Not quite a vampire, not quite a witch, still somewhat a human.

I inhaled sharply. “So what am I?”

Fiona turned back to me, and in her eyes, I saw something I wasn’t ready for. Fear .

“You could be the counterbalance,” she said softly. “To Ravok, to what he represents.”

The garden shrank around me, the sweet scent turning bitter. Ravok was evil. Pure evil, but…I was evil, too, with my dark, malevolent magic, capable of showing people their sins, capable of terrible things.

I shook my head. “That doesn’t make sense. If anything, our magicks are similar, not different.”

“Similar…but only in strength. Intention is what defines magic, Evangeline. And balance is necessary, especially now. Two great powers not seen in centuries, existing at the same time,” Fiona sighed. “This cannot be a coincidence. There has to be some higher purpose.”

“I’ve seen his magic, it’s dark, like mine. I don’t want this magic,” I complained, rubbing my suddenly cold arms. “I don’t want to raise the dead or kill everything around me. I surely don’t want to see ghosts.” Or their sins, or any other horrible thing.

“Again, intention is the key,” Fiona explained, like she was speaking to a child. “Ravok’s power is ancient, forged from pure evil, a magic that has grown more corrupt over time. Witch magic—even the darker kind—has always been a counterbalance. And a threat. Which is why they were hunted almost to extinction.”

“So I’m a witch, not a vampire?”

“You are both. A child of two worlds, three, if you count your human side. What is curious…Ravok didn’t seem aware of your existence until recently.” Her eyes narrowed as she studied me. “Not until he possessed Riordan and drank from you. Am I close?”

“Closer than I’d like you to be,” I muttered. “If I’d known what a pain the ass Ravok was going to be, I would have had you kill him, instead of exorcise him.”

“I would have failed. Even weakened, I lack the strength to kill a being like Ravok. The Elders were chosen for a reason, and I thought I would go my entire life without meeting one.”

“I’ll bet you wish that was still the case.”

“You have no idea.” She looked up at the window, and when I followed her gaze, there was Blake, watching. I lifted my hand and gave him a nervous wave. Hopefully the this-is-going-okay kind of wave.

“But we do have to kill him,” Fiona said, as if we were talking about the flowers. “It will come down to him or us, and even united, I’m not sure our combined powers can withstand him.”

“And you haven’t seen what he’s become.” I blew out a breath and the entire garden to my right withered under a coating of frost, the crystals sparkling beneath the moon. Damn it.

“He’s stronger than he ever was, according to Malachi, and there’s no explanation why.”

“Nevertheless, Ravok must be stopped. You are the first female Silverwood in a thousand years, born to a Bloodmoon witch.” I swore her eyes began to glow from within. “Exactly as the prophecy foretold.”

The very air in the garden seemed to freeze when she repeated, “When silver wood rises and ravens take flight, a dark son returns, under cloak of midnight. Blood will combine to give birth to a king, a High Lord of Night, a future to bring. Crowned shadows awake, with his queen by his side, both claimed by darkness, illusion’s dark bride.”

My knees nearly gave out. Malachi’s memory had been real, after all. “Yeah, well, I’ll never be that douchebag’s fucking queen. Never .”

“Then you’ll have to fight him.” She tilted her head as more and more shadowy flames leaked from me, until it looked like we stood in the middle of a river of black.

I clenched my hands tighter at my sides. “That prophecy indicates my blood turns him into this High Lord. You’re saying I was made for this?”

Fiona hesitated. “Not made. Born . Your mother bound your magic to hide you, and after I tested you that day…I tried—gods help me, I tried—to make sure you remained hidden, but it was already too late, he’d seen you. Then, once he was free, your only path was to claim your magic and become strong enough to face him.”

Well, this was total bullshit.

I wasn’t liking this bound-for-destiny vibe I was getting.

“I tried to face him.” My pulse thundered in my ears, my emotions turning cataclysmic. “It was a total shitshow and now Malachi’s his captive and Ravok’s only going to get stronger.”

Are you okay, Evie? A flicker of warmth trickled down the mating bond, and I looked up to where Blake was watching, palms flattened on the windowpane, his powerful torso illuminated by moonlight, dark hair framing his eyes, glowing like coals.

I’m fine. Just…lots of new developments.

Fiona followed my gaze to the window. “There are untapped depths to your power you have not yet discovered, depths Ravok fears. He hunted for Rhiannon, for her bloodline, because he knew that with her blood, with her magic, he would ascend to become more powerful than any other entity before.”

I felt as though the ground beneath me had cracked open, tendrils of black shadow seeping out into the air around me. “Why didn’t he find her?”

Fiona’s gaze darkened. “Because I helped hide her. As I hid all those who came before you.”

My breath hitched. All those … How old was Fiona ? “You—you knew my mother?”

A shadow crossed Fiona’s face, “Aurora was a friend, long before Tyrell captured her and gave her to Silas. When I first saw you…I knew exactly who you were and knew Ravok wouldn’t be far behind.”

The weight of her words crushed the air from my lungs. I had spent years on the run with my mother and Angel—but my sister had been a child, I’d been a teenager…of course Mom hadn’t survived alone. All these years I’d entertained some romantic notion it was just the three of us against the world, but the only reason we’d survived was because we’d had help.

“You’ve been lying to me since the day we met.” And here I was, feeling all guilty because I’d kept my magic a secret. She’d known all along. “Neither did your brother. Did Eldric know who I was? Who Angel was?”

“He knew.” There was no hesitation in her voice. “And before you point your finger at me and call me a liar, if you had learned the truth, you would have gone looking for answers. And those questions would have led Ravok straight back to you.”

I could barely hear her over the rush of blood in my ears. “Does Blake know? Or Riordan?” I was drowning in panic, in something even worse than panic. Was I the only one who didn’t know who I was?

And what was I, exactly ?

“No,” she said firmly. “And they still don’t. Your secrets are not mine to tell, only to keep. You are strong, Evangeline. You have a purpose, greater than any of us. Ravok has been a dark cloud looming on the horizon my entire life, the threat I always knew was coming, and now he is here.”

Her face softened. “You were supposed to be ready for this. Aurora was supposed to train you, prepare you for this fight, but Silas killed her before she had the chance.”

“And then?” I demanded. “If you were such a good friend, why didn’t you help us?”

She stared at me, her eyes glimmering with something almost like pride. “Because Silas trained you too well. Once you took your sister into hiding, none of the people I sent to find you could. You are the best slayer I’ve ever seen, and I wasn’t lying when I told Ysbeth to give you a chance to prove yourself, because I knew you would.”

“You say I’m Ravok’s counterbalance. But you’re afraid of me, aren’t you?” Silence stretched between us, then finally, she exhaled.

“Yes.”

My chest ached with something I couldn’t fathom. Anger. Grief. Betrayal. All three.

“Why?”

“Because power like yours is a double-edged sword. If you allow the darkness to consume you…you could become worse than Ravok ever was.”

She hesitated, as if she couldn’t bear to say the words. “And if he finds you and uses you to become this…High Lord, then our world, as we know it, will end.”

The weight of her fear settled on my shoulders, suffocating. “You were trying to stop that from happening. But then…it happened anyway.”

Fiona nodded. “He sees the future, there’s no way to outmaneuver him. I planned to teach you control, train you to be strong. Now…now we have to figure out how to stop him while he holds all the cards.”

I swallowed hard, my throat burning. “How…” I swallowed. “How is he going to use my blood to become this High Lord? Is there a ritual, or something else?” Oh God, don’t let there be something horrible.

Of course, there was something horrible, there was always something horrible.

“We don’t know.” Fiona crossed her arms over her chest. “There would certainly have to be a ritual, and magic, and a spell of intention, mixed with your blood. Eldric is searching for an answer, and if I know my brother, he is close to finding one.”

Turning away, I stared over the moonlight flecked gardens, glancing up to where Blake still watched over me from above, arms crossed over his chest like my own personal sentinel.

I wished Malachi was here, with his soothing words and clever hands, and I was still soaking in that steaming bath. My magic had been so easy—so effortless—to control that day, like this dark power was an integral part of me. But Malachi was a prisoner, and if I wanted to save him, I had to figure out a way to do this on my own.

“So what now?”

Fiona’s voice was quiet, but firm. “Now, I’m locking your magic down, and then, you decide what you wish to become. The pawn or the sword, and I’ll remind you, pawns are always the first to get sacrificed.”

“Swords break,” I countered.

“But not before they draw blood. Now stop arguing and let me do this.”