Page 46

45

EVANGELINE

W e returned to Crimson House in the midst of a violent afternoon summer storm, and after Sylvester healed me with enough annoyance to make it clear I was an overwhelming burden to his very existence, I went on the hunt for Malachi, who—not that Blake and Riordan were in any hurry for a big group hug—seemed determined to play lone wolf.

After today’s debacle, I would have left him alone, but we needed answers, and he was no longer in a position to keep secrets.

I followed the fragile tether of our blood bond—fading now, since it had been days since I’d fed from him—back to that empty wing, to the darkened hall lit only by the occasional flash of lightning strikes, the paneled walls vibrating to the thunder rolling overhead.

I was getting close when the electricity flickered, then went out, plunging the hallway, the entire wing, into darkness.

Outlined by rolling storm clouds, Malachi sat hunched in front of the window, and a chill slipped through my veins, because he looked so alone and so vulnerable and seeing him like this, it struck me…there was nothing keeping him here. He could walk away, go to the other side of the world, and yet here he was, fighting with us.

Aria was right about his choice.

Given how things were going, we probably were the losing side.

“Do you know what happened to my father?”

The image of Silas in the dirt hit me like a physical blow, but I forced myself to keep breathing, to not let my throat close up. Hideous in life, hideous in death, but still… did anyone deserve an end as horrible as that?

“Corruption,” Malachi said quietly, stretching his bare feet out on the window seat, his voice carrying none of its usual arrogance, “when a human has been feeding off vampire blood for centuries before being turned into a thrall, the magic tethering them to their master becomes... unstable. Their flesh remembers their original state. Time catches up.”

I pulled a chair over to the window, positioned so I could watch the storm, the trees whipping back and forth from the high winds. With a raw, low growl, Malachi dragged me closer, until our knees touched.

“My father and uncles were feeding from Tyrell for years. Centuries ,” I whispered, almost to myself, my thoughts going back to that night, watching my father swirl a glass of Laurent’s blood like it was the finest wine. “But what about the others?” I asked suddenly. “Bosch’s soldiers, my cousins, the mercenaries? None of them drank Tyrell’s blood. They all rotted away.”

The storm raged behind him as he studied my face, then rested his hand on my knee, like he was trying to anchor himself. Or me.

“I have a theory. I can’t prove it’s true, but…I believe I’m right. Ravok has been siphoning off the life forces of his thralls, making himself stronger, boosting his power, speeding up his recovery. It’s the only explanation for both their decay, and his fast recuperation.”

His mouth worked, like there was more to say, but his chest heaved once, then he looked away, his gaze fixed on some distant point.

“Somehow, Romulus is doing the same,” Malachi continued, “both of them sustained by creating thralls, then using them in an unnatural way. I am sorry, Evangeline, that you had to see your father like that. I know…” He swallowed, his thumb tracing my kneecap, “How it feels to despise someone, yet regret their death. It is…” He left the sentence unfinished, but the implication was clear.

My throat felt tight. I had wanted revenge, yes.

They had tortured me, tried to break me. Hurt me in the cruelest ways possible. But this... watching them literally decompose while still conscious... “I felt sorry for him.” I murmured. “Even after his cruelty, I pitied him. Both for his choices, and where they led.”

All these conflicting emotions churning inside me—I couldn’t make them make sense.

“He was all you knew, once,” Malachi said softly, correctly reading my expression. “As evil as he was, as much pain as he inflicted, he was your entire world. No one can fully erase their past and emotions are never as simple as right and wrong. How I wish they were.”

He smoothed my hair back, tucking a lock behind my ear, his fingers trailing down my neck, across my collarbone. “You have a generous heart, Evangeline, big enough for the whole world to fit into, but you can’t let the world destroy you.”

“What are you talking about?” I couldn’t move, too entranced by the feel of his fingers on my skin, pale brown eyes filled with a cataclysmic glow. As if he saw nothing but me.

And he was everywhere . The overwhelming icy smell of him saturated every inhale, the way he filled the room, wild energy rolling off him in great waves of power, his fingers tracing my body as delicately as a rose petal.

“There are people like me, who keep the world out. Then there are people like you, Evangeline, who invite the whole world into their heart with open arms. But they take on all that misery and, in the end, are slowly and completely consumed.”

He held my gaze as he flattened his palm over my racing heart. “If this world hurts you, Evangeline, I will burn it all down until there is nothing left. Anyone who harms you, anyone who raises a hand against you…they will cease to exist.”

Lightening flashed, casting his bruised face into stark relief, making him look like a statue carved out of marble, perfect and enduring and unbreakable.

“I’ve told myself this will pass.” He huffed out a laugh. “That everything I feel for you is only because…because no one can outrun their past. But every day I just…” His fingers paused on my cheek, and that point where his skin met mine sparked with an infinity of possibilities before he drew his hand back.

“Just don’t let the world destroy you, Vicious. I couldn’t take it.”

His gaze softened, and the moment our eyes met, I realized…

I wasn’t falling in love with Malachi. I was in love with him.

Head over heels, completely in love with this beautiful, ruined male.

“Don’t block the world out, Malachi,” I murmured, my heart pounding. “I’m not afraid and you shouldn’t be either.” His eyes flashed, but he didn’t argue, as if he’d already said everything he was going to say on the matter.

“Romulus,” I said, as if an entire conversation was wrapped up in that one name. “He bleeds black. And he said we were too late, that the transformation had started. What did he mean?”

“The black blood…they used to call it Obscuratio, or The Darkening, a manifestation of corruption that occurs over centuries. As vampires age, their sins and malevolent acts don't simply vanish into the ether—they collect within their blood like sediment in an ancient bottle of wine.”

“I’ve heard of aging like fine wine, but that’s a bit much.”

“Eventually, the blood darkens to black, carrying with it the weight of centuries of sin, each new kill, each act of cruelty adding another layer of darkness to their essence.”

Sin. I turned that over in my head, weighing the potential for weaponizing such information.

“Your blood is red,” I felt obligated to point out. “So you’re not the villain you think you are.”

“I know exactly what I am, Evangeline, I don’t need my blood to tell me,” he muttered, the words disappearing beneath another roll of thunder. A band tightened around my chest at the self-loathing in his voice, and every part of me wanted to soothe that away, to force Malachi to recognize his own goodness.

“The Darkening manifests differently in each bloodline, but all ancient vampires describe a sensation of their sins becoming almost tangible—memories crystallizing into something physical, as they accumulate corruption like rings in an ancient tree.”

That sounded…promising.

Maybe I could weaponize this.

“What about this transformation? What was he talking about?”

Malachi was silent for so long I didn’t think he’d answer, nothing between us but the sound of the rain beating against the windows, the heat where our bodies touched.

“There’s only one thing Romulus could be talking about, and I’ve only read about the phenomenon. It’s never been done, and if that’s what he’s planning…” His canines lengthened, eyes darkening. “There were always rumors Caine planned to create another type of vampire, a higher life form, almost a god.

“That was what he was searching for, across the continents, hand selecting humans who had magic, or special powers, looking for those rumored to be descended from gifted bloodlines. The Elders were powerful and flawed, but all the generations that have come after…are weaker, by nature of basic evolution.”

“I don’t know whether to be relieved or offended by that statement.”

He didn’t smile, his hand on my knee tightening.

“He would require several things. A vampire, powerful in his own right, first or second generation. Some unlimited source of cosmic or divine energy, to jumpstart the change, and…” His eyes rose to capture mine, “The blood of a powerful witch, from one of the original, ancient bloodlines.”

Something jagged rattled in my chest. “I…uhm…don’t know what to say. Like…cosmic energy? Are we talking the power of the universe?”

“Something powerful enough to transverse this realm, to create a quantum instability…a place where the boundaries between two different realms becomes malleable, creating an energy field that could be absorbed or transferred to a living being.” He shook his head. “Your ancestry, your bloodline, nothing matters without access to that primordial energy and unless Ravok plans on flying a rocket to some dying star, I can’t see how he plans to accomplish this feat.”

A faint tendril of hope wrapped around my rattling heart. “Well, that’s good. Because I don’t plan on being around to jumpstart some new species.”

Malachi didn’t smile, he just looked more serious.

“There’s something you should know. Ravok is the last remaining Elder,” Malachi murmured softly. “Caine and Lilith are gone, the rest of the Thirteen perished a month ago. There is a good reason he chose this exact moment for his rebirth, and there is a reason Romulus said what he did.”

“You think this…transformation thing is possible.” Fear seeped through my bones, my flesh, my heart, weighing me down like I was drowning.

“I think they think it’s possible.” Another bolt of lightning struck, closer this time. “And it doesn’t much matter if they don’t have all the pieces, Vicious, if they take you, they will hurt you.”

The shudder that went through him shook the entire room like an earthquake, a tremor of pure pain that brushed over my skin, leaving goosebumps. “They will fucking hurt you .”

“They won’t touch me, because you won’t let them,” I said fiercely. “Like you already said, they don’t have this...cosmic energy needed to make the change happen.”

“The Terminus,” Malachi murmured. “It’s called the Terminus. The End, the closest thing to a god our kind can have. Ravok would like that,” He squinted at the rain pounding against the glass. “Being worshipped, everyone on their fucking knees before him.”

“But that won’t happen. Because we’re going to stop him.” My eyes darted frantically to the door, another crack of lightning—closer, this time—peeling the silence apart.

“Not if he’s seen a way.” His eyes met mine, the same horror etched in them as was clawing at my chest right now.

“Ravok chose this moment for a reason. That means everything is in place. He’s the oldest, strongest vampire alive. You, a Bloodmoon witch possessing a rare and powerful magic not seen in hundreds of years…are alive. He’s timed the moment of his rebirth perfectly, and now…” Malachi’s gaze turned unfocused, as if he were searching inward.

“There’s a power source. There has to be. But I don’t know where it is.”

“Maybe…you’re wrong?” I said desperately. “Maybe Romulus was talking about something else.”

“I’m never wrong, Evangeline, when it comes to my Maker. My life has always depended on being right.”