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EVANGELINE

S econds after Malachi spoke the spell, pain swallowed me whole, and I disappeared down the crushing, wet gullet of some enormous dark creature, the world blurring as my magic rose, a sea of black that had no end.

This was worse than I remembered. My magic was darker, like drowning in thick, choking oil. Power so infinite, stretching out so far, I didn’t know where it ended. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t fucking survive this onslaught. Like a rock, I plunged down and down and down without ever hitting bottom.

Maybe I’d be stuck here forever, falling endlessly through time.

Then the onslaught slowed. Stopped. Waited.

I became that churning, inky darkness, and all I knew was rage .

I came to staring up at Malachi, my hand gripping his tighter than necessary, his face ten shades paler than a few minutes ago, and my pulse jumped in anticipation as I adjusted to the river of power coursing through me.

But I’d done what he said, and… there it was .

A silver box, lid slung open, blackness pouring out like demonic smoke, fire burning colder than the emptiness between the stars. I waded through layers of shifting darkness, my breath freezing in my lungs, and wrapped my fingers around that frozen lid.

The metal gleamed like new, cold enough to send slivers of pain into my palms, but I shoved that top down, pushing with every bit of strength I had until it slammed closed.

I lifted my eyes to Malachi, and everything he’d ever done to me came flooding back. The betrayals, the lies, the manipulations. And something inside of me turned hard and unforgiving.

He opened his mouth to say something, but whatever he saw in my face made him pause.

I let go of the lid, releasing a flood of whipping darkness.

When I lifted my hand, black, shadowy fire consumed my fingers, my wrist, flickering down to my elbow, leaving a hint of cold pain licking my skin. Faster than he could react, I wrapped those ghostly flames tightly around me, then grinned.

Surprise flared in his eyes, followed by something that—if I was a betting woman—I’d call fear.

“You should probably run.”

I was on my feet before he was, matching Malachi move for move as I prowled after him, my footsteps careful on the ashy ground, avoiding slick, frosty spots, ruined piles of what had once been gloriously manicured beds.

At the very least, I’d destroyed his precious garden, which gave me a cool sense of satisfaction, but killing Malachi here, in his precious little hideaway…that would truly make me happy.

As it was, prowling after him like this felt…comforting familiar.

Hunting vampires. Well, one particular vampire, who’d lied and manipulated himself into this very situation. When Malachi ended up dead, he really had no one to blame but himself.

“Vicious, you don’t want to do this.” His eyes narrowed. “We’re on the same side. Let me explain.”

He cast up shields of magic as he retreated, only to have those shimmering barriers crumble beneath my dark flames, like morning mist burned off by the sun. I kept pace, though every step was a struggle, my knees trembling, my lungs battling the strain of simply breathing.

“Is that what you told yourself, when you turned us against each other? Is that what being an ally means to you? Someone to use until you discard them?”

“Let me help you. I know the magic hurts, Evangeline, I can see your suffering on your face. Let me take away the pain.”

“Maybe I fucking like the pain,” I hissed, tasting the bite of frost. “Maybe the pain will be worth the cost, when I’m standing over your fucking corpse.”

And yes, everything hurt . My hands, my body, right down to my fucking bones. I wrestled with my magic, trying to catch ahold of these flames long enough to fling them toward him, do as much damage as I could.

Power I had in spades.

Control, not so much.

This darkness was like slithering oil, slippery and uncooperative, determined to be difficult.

But I was more stubborn, and finally—fucking finally—I caught ahold of the tail end of my magic, and every cell in my body revolted. This was…fucking awful. Like touching acid, or swallowing poison. But…

This was also like channeling the energy of a star, filling me not with dazzling brilliance, but with darkness untold, a void consuming everything in its path. I sent my dark flames hissing toward Malachi, satisfaction warming my insides when a gash opened on his arm, turning to glee as he threw both arms up in front of his face to protect himself.

That’s right, fucker, beg for mercy.

My magic carved through fabric and flesh, blood splattering across leaves and flowers, shining in the moonlight. A hollow, reckless hate took over, and I reveled in his pain. I wanted him to suffer, like he’d made us suffer.

I wanted him to hurt , like he’d hurt us.

I would leave his precious castle a smoking ruin behind me.

“Evangeline, killing me will not save your king, or your mate.” Malachi’s eyes were dark pits in his pale face. “If you want them to survive, you need my help. You need me .”

“Begging is usually beneath you, Malachi. Could it be you’re outmatched?” I grinned, my face feeling like it cracked wide open. “Could it be you finally lied yourself into a corner you couldn’t crawl out of?”

Power scraped inside me with sharpened talons, digging furrows out of my guts, clawing through my veins with ribbons of pain. I searched for the silver box, but it was gone, buried beneath layers of flame and shadow.

I lashed out again and again, every merciless slice through his skin like another step toward retribution. Every gasp of pain an apology for the wicked, wicked things he’d done.

We crossed the threshold of his castle, where I stripped away every protection, painted his precious belongings in his own blood, where I no longer cared if I destroyed priceless artifacts, so long as I destroyed this traitor who’d ruined everything .

“Vicious… stop ,” Malachi gasped, his face tight with pain, but I wanted more. I wanted him on his knees, begging for mercy. I wanted to see him broken . “Please, please….” Blood trickled down his chin, and hunger flared at the richness saturating the air.

“You destroyed my life. Now I’ll destroy you.” I sent another whip of darkness flying, slicing deep across his pale chest, grinning when he hissed in pain. “Never again will you control my mind.” Another strike that found its mark, another agonized groan. “Never again will you put me on my knees, when it’s you who should be begging me for forgiveness.”

I was relentless, yet with every step, pain seized my muscles, every cast of magic grew more unhinged, chandeliers crashing to the floor in splinters, paintings torn apart, ancient stone walls breaking. But I would finish this.

For how badly he’d hurt Blake and Riordan …I would finish him.

Malachi threw his hand up in front of him, “Please, Evangeline, just…give me a chance to explain. I’ll admit, my methods seem…questionable, but once I explain, you will understand.”

“You’ve had enough chances. You are shit out of luck, as we humans like to say.” This time, my magic was like dragging an up anchor from the depths, but my flames carved across his skin like knives, until I tasted his pain like a fine wine.

Malachi stumbled and went down, blood streaking down his face, soaking his side, cradling one shredded arm against his body, so damaged he could no longer use that hand. I tightened my grip on my slippery, uncooperative magic as I read the truth on his face.

One more blow and this would be over.

I gathered my power, dredging up every drop I had left.

But familiar blond hair appeared behind Malachi, pulled smoothly back into a ponytail—then, instead of my enemy—my baby sister was right in front of me, her bright blue eyes widening in horror, opening her mouth to scream.

Just like when…just like…oh God…

I panicked, grappling with my magic, felt those flames slip out of my control, and sent a wall of dark fire roaring down the hallway straight toward Angel.

Devouring shadows that would crush her. Kill her.

No, no, no, this couldn’t happen again, I had to stop this, I had to…

All around me, stone walls shook beneath the rushing power, dust and debris rained down, chunks of stone and plaster and glass shattering on the floor. Frozen in fear, Angel stood stock-still, trembling gaze fixed on the wave of death I’d released, and could not stop.

An ending written in stone, where I was the villain.

Always the fucking villain.

“No. Angel. Get down . Get on the floor ,” I screamed, panic seizing me as that terrible darkness swallowed up my sister, the entire hallway, my fruitless warning echoing behind it as I crashed to my knees, my power guttering beneath the fear .

I have to stop this, I have to…

Like she’d been conjured out of my dreams, the image of my sister flickered, then vanished, that dark wall of flame roaring down the now-empty hall, leaving me blinking in confusion. Angel…that had been…an illusion…Malachi had tricked me…

I doubled over, screaming in rage and some unforgiving force wrapped around me, bound my arms against my body like a steel vise, turned me from warrior to prisoner in a half second. I fought, sweat beading on my forehead as I flailed, the bonds tightening.

All the while, darkness billowed like an out-of-control inferno inside me, until my mouth was full of ash and my raw throat burned.

Then an invisible hand slammed the silver box lid closed, my shadows faded away, smothered beneath a layer of cool, thick magic until every flame was gone.

Malachi’s magic.

“I must admit…” Malachi crouched down beside me, “I didn’t expect such savagery. In retrospect, I should have, but I’ve lost all perspective when it comes to you, Vicious. You could have killed us both, and where would that have gotten you?”

God, he sounded almost…proud.

“With you dead, which is what you deserve.”

“Of that, I have no doubt.” His fingers traced gently down my wet cheek. “But for now, I’m the only thing keeping you and your males alive, so let’s come to an agreement, shall we? As long as we are under the same roof, your magic remains bound. At least until you understand I’m not the enemy you’ve made me out to be.”

I glared up into pale brown eyes the color of mocha, trying to come up with an appropriately cutting remark, but my tongue was too thick, the words swimming in my head like fish I couldn’t catch, then everything faded away.