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EVANGELINE

“C an we go back to…you said Ravok can see the future?” I shook my head, trying to wrap my mind around something that shouldn’t be possible. “That’s just not….it just…can’t happen. I mean, that would defy every physical law known to man.”

Not only that, but if this were true, that would make Ravok impossible to outmaneuver, because no matter how carefully we planned our next move…he would always be ahead of us.

“It’s true.” Malachi gave the tiniest wince, “And because Ravok is my Maker, I, on occasion, glimpse the future too. Never on command, but often enough to stay ahead of my enemies. I might hate the fucker who created me, but occasionally I have to thank him, too.”

I thought of Silas, my training. Well, wasn’t that the truth.

He studied my face, then shrugged. “Can’t fucking choose family, am I right?”

“No, you can’t.” I sank deeper into my chair, trying to make sense of this. “Okay, I’ll bite. Let’s say Ravok can see the future. What good did that do him when he was locked in an iron box beneath the castle?”

“Not a lot, since I kept him in stasis for centuries. Feeding him one drop of blood a year, barely enough to keep his heart pumping. But… something woke him from his slumber. The question is what would be important enough to roust my Maker?”

“Hmm. What do you think it was?” My poor, abused bottom lip hurt, so I switched to my thumb. In times of stress, I had a hard time keeping all my nervous habits under control, and, admittedly, my coping mechanisms could…use some work.

Malachi frowned at me, chewing my thumb, settled on the couch beside me and gently pulled my hand into his, rubbing over my brutalized skin. And I let him, because I was seriously losing my shit right now.

Because I had a bad, bad feeling I knew why Ravok was awake.

I just hoped I was wrong.

“If Ravok foresaw something important happening at this particular moment in time, he might have chosen to awaken. Or he sensed something momentous,” he gave me a pointed look, “like the sudden proximity of Silverwood blood, which could have summoned him from his sleep.”

I tried to look all curious-but-innocent.

There it was and you have got to be fucking kidding me.

Ravok had done more than sense my blood, he’d practically tasted it, via Riordan, which sounded super-weird now that I was thinking about it. But if he was practically a vegetable, how was he aware of anything?

In fact, I wanted to ask so many questions right now, first and foremost— why the fuck didn’t you just kill him, when you had the chance? But I was too busy wrestling with the knowledge that I was, most likely, the one who’d woken Ravok up from his deep sleep.

Which meant this entire debacle was…drum roll please… my fault .

“So he was half-starved, in a coma, locked inside an iron coffin five inches thick and cut off from the world,” I asked, trying not to focus on how close Malachi was sitting, or how firmly his thigh pressed against mine. “How could he sense time passing?”

“If he’d foreseen the invasion, the looming collapse of the castle…” Malachi’s gaze met my own, filled with equal amounts of horror and dread, “He would have known escape was his only means of survival. But I think I know how Silas found Ravok down in those catacombs.”

I had a pretty good idea how, too.

The same way a supposedly catatonic Ravok had wormed his way into Riordan’s head, took him over and used him like a sock puppet. And Riordan was a formidable vampire. Silas was…only human. And my father had visited that castle. A lot.

“What do you mean…by see the future ? Like…he makes vague predictions that might happen, like Nostradamus? Or more like one of those fortune tellers people call in the middle of the night to get their futures read?”

“Are you always this fucking difficult?” Malachi asked softly, a faint smile on his face that almost looked… adoring as his fingers traced over my now-healed thumb. And somehow, that smile freaked me out even more than everything I was hearing.

“Yes, pretty much always. Honestly, you should be used to this by now. So which is it?” Malachi looked to the ceiling like he was praying to the gods for patience.

“Caine didn’t choose his Elders on brute strength alone. They each possessed raw magic of some sort. That magic was amplified by a hundred times after Caine turned them, and together…” A shudder went through him, “they burned entire cities to the ground, killed droves of innocents with a sweep of their hand.”

I didn’t know how to handle the way my entire body went sweaty and loose at the picture he was painting. I’d been outmatched before, but this…this was like nothing I’d ever faced.

Or imagined .

He was describing Armageddon, and I’d… made a bargain with this asshole .

Let him drink from me.

“Okay, now I want to vomit, but that doesn’t explain if Ravok could actually see the future.”

“Ravok was Caine’s favorite, because he could pinpoint an occurrence to the minute, over a hundred years in advance. He could tell you when a king would be betrayed, the exact second a kingdom would collapse, the moment a decisive battle would turn, and who the victor would be.”

“Shit.”

Malachi lifted a brow. “Yes, exactly. Caine found his skill invaluable, but eventually Ravok became…unreliable. He became obsessed, chasing down inconsequential events that had no meaning, except, perhaps to him. Caine stopped relying on his visions, and eventually cast him out of the Thirteen.”

“And then you killed him, once he no longer had their protection,” I guessed, as Malachi’s fingers absently traced over the top of my hand. I should pull away, I really should, but…his touch kept me grounded right now and since my anxiety was spiraling, he actually made me feel…better.

“And then I almost killed him, when he lost Caine’s trust and became a liability,” Malachi corrected, his eyes darkening when they landed on my face. “Thankfully, I came to my senses and locked him in a box, instead.”

“Why not just kill him?” I said aloud, studying the emotions churning behind that carefully blank mask. “It’s so unlike you to leave anything but bodies in your wake, so there must be a good reason.”

“There is, but that’s not relevant at this time,” he muttered stiffly, his grip on my hand tightening, a shiver shooting up through my arm as the air around us soured with regret. Secrets and lies, would they never stop?

“What does he want, besides your head on a pike?” A smile curled my lips. “Because that’s an agenda I could get behind.”

“That’s the real question, isn’t it?” He mused, completely ignoring my jab. “All those seemingly meaningless events…they mattered to Ravok. A trail of clues that would be helpful, if I could only decipher them. But something drove him to escape with your sire and uncle.”

“He was drinking my uncle dry the last I saw him.” I shivered at that unrestrained savagery. Malachi ran his hand lightly down my arm, and the warm, velvety brush of his fingers felt… nice . “That was a lot of blood. How much would he need to fully recover?”

“More than is contained in one human.”

“Well, that’s good.” I huffed out a nervous laugh that was half-horror. “Plus, Uncle Alistair probably tasted like shit, so I guess there’s an upside.”

“Your sire and uncles are already dead, or his thralls,” he cautioned. “Aria, too, though with her magic, she might resist him for a day or two. Once he’s fed and his body has had time to regenerate, none of us can stand against him. My guess is, when he can’t find me…his next stop will be Crimson House. Unless we reach him first.”

“Why would he come after the clan?” I asked, trying to ignore the fact I was now pressed against Malachi from hip to knee, that his thumb was tracing slow, sensual circles on my palm, that every single part of me was hyper focused on all the places we were touching.

“You, I get, but the rest of us? We never did anything to him.”

Malachi’s gaze slid away, his scowl deepening. “There’s a lot you don’t know, Vicious…Ravok has his reasons for coming after you. And his first stop will be Crimson House.”

“Oooh, spooky ,” I mocked, even though my skin prickled, my heart raced, so far past scared , this was not even funny.

How the fuck had all of this been going on under our noses? And Ravok …I swallowed, thinking of my sweet, innocent sister. Ravok was a real threat and I didn’t, for one second, fool myself into believing Malachi was telling me even half of what was really going on.

“Then I have to warn Riordan and Blake.” Helplessness butchered my insides, turning them to jelly. Nothing mattered more than telling them of the danger. Not my revenge, not even the fact this could very well be my fault, I had to talk to Blake. Now.

“Not telling them about Ravok is a death sentence and if you don’t let me get word to them, you’ll never pry my magic out of my cold dead fucking hands.”

“How exactly do you intend to warn them, Vicious?”

I wrestled with a lie, then decided fuck it. “My phone, of course. You should have searched me, Malachi, but hey, rookie mistake.” His expression changed, ratcheting down until there wasn’t a shred of emotion left.

“You sneaky little thing.” His lips lifted slightly, showing his fangs.

“No calls until I get what I want.” His tone turned colder than steel and he tugged me closer, until we breathed the same air, our lips an inch apart. “We need each other, Vicious. You have one chance to protect everything you love, but for this to work, I have to trust you, and I can’t after last night.”

“You totally deserved last night’s ass kicking.” God, his scent was like a drug, wrapping seductive fingers around me, urging me to lean in, to taste those soft lips that were so close.

Enemies. I reminded myself sternly.

We’re mortal enemies and you are losing your ever-loving mind, Evie.

“Maybe so, but I can’t keep looking over my shoulder, fighting Ravok and teaching you to control your magic, all at the same time. I need your word, Evangeline, that you won’t attempt to kill me until Ravok is dead.”

“My… word ?” This fucker’s arrogance was astounding and I pulled against of his grasp, but he held firm, and the more I struggled against his firm grip, the hotter that ball of fire in my belly burned. Yeah, there was definitely something wrong with me.

“You’ve lied to me at every turn,” I spat. “You can fuck right off.”

His fingers dug into my skin, I could barely breathe, he made a dark, growly sound deep in his throat. “Have you not been listening to me?” Malachi ground his teeth together, his eyes narrowing as he glanced down, to where the pale globes of my breasts were mounded up against his hard chest. His next words came out thicker, “I am asking you to stop the greatest threat our kind has ever faced, and you’re going to dig your heels in over misunderstandings.”

“Oh, okay, plotting death and destruction is nothing more than a misunderstanding?” My entire body was on fire, something molten pouring through me, starting where his strong hands were banded around my wrists. “Well misunderstand this, asshole.”

My heart was hammering against my ribs when I tore myself away and flipped him off. Both hands. “In case you need an interpreter, fuck all the way off.”

I stalked for the door, cheeks burning, heart slamming against ribs. God, he had me so twisted up right now I didn’t know what I wanted.

To kill him or kiss him. Or both.

Damn it . What was wrong with me? Malachi was the enemy. Who also helped you defeat Tyrell and save your sister. But he was totally in enemy territory and one did not have lustful thoughts about people they hated.

I shouldn’t be on my own, making life changing decisions— kingdom ending decisions —by myself with no fucking idea if I was doing the right thing or not.

And since nobody ever told me shit, I had like a ninety-nine percent chance of making the wrong one. That part was a given.

“Your word, Vicious,” Malachi called softly, and fuck me, but my feet stopped moving, as if he somehow had dominion over my body. I looked at the ruined gardens out past the windows, but there was no escape, only a choice I had to make.

“Fine.” I tapped my foot on the debris-riddled floor. “But besides warning Blake and Riordan, I want something else.” I ignored the heady scent of cedar and ice that suddenly flooded the room, the heat rushing into my belly.

These fuckers wanted to weasel their way through every fucking situation? I’d do the same. I’d get something I wanted for a change.

“When this is over, I want you gone. I never want to see you again. And stay the fuck out of my head. I so much as sense you reading my thoughts, I am done. You make that part of our deal, and I give you my word I won’t stab you in your sleep, no matter how badly I want to.” I picked up a silver of shattered glass from the debris-strewn floor, and after a moment’s hesitation, sliced the edge across my palm, gritting my teeth at the sudden flash of pain.

Malachi’s eyes dilated, his fangs punched out, his face suddenly looked like it was carved from stone as the scent of my blood hit his nose, but he studied my outstretched hand, flicked his finger and opened up a matching cut on his own hand.

Our slippery palms met, a warm, coppery smell filling the air, and power jolted through me, the kind that reshaped the world. Even locked down, my magic shifted restlessly, cold trickling up my arm from where his fingers closed around mine and our blood merged.

I didn’t know how long we stood there, palms pressed tight, blood melding, something inside of me shifting, too. Being around Malachi was dangerous, in too many ways to count.

“Agreed,” Malachi murmured, stepping back and without a hint of shame, flattened his tongue and ran it up his palm, his eyes dilating as he licked, never breaking our stare.

I couldn’t look away, imagining having that tongue on me and the heat between my legs turned to molten flame, charring my bones, turning me into an empty husk of panting want before I spun on my heel and stalked away.