Page 17 of Until the Heart Stops (The Oylen City #1)

A ll the immortals filed out of the room, starting with those closest to the doors, until only we were left with our maker.

The four of us stood so still I wasn’t sure if any of us were breathing.

Atticus had thrown the woman’s body over his shoulder and, with a bow, closed the door behind him as he left.

Silence filled the empty chamber that had once been a gorgeous library.

The books were now ashes and long gone, just like any humanity my maker might have had.

In the practiced movements of countless centuries, we lowered to our knees, dipped our chins and pressed our fingers to our lips.

A disgusting crawling sensation skittered beneath my skin, acid rose in my throat, and I stared unseeingly at the blood seeping into the stones.

So much had been spilt here in the last few centuries I was sure the scent would never be purged. Only fire could destroy it now.

Mael’s bare feet splashed as he circled the table, taking his time.

When I’d first been made, I’d worshipped him like the god I believed him to be—like the god he was sired from.

His cruelty had been slow building, as was his madness, and I could remember times in the beginning when he’d been a true maker.

Those nights he’d taken me hunting and taught me how to tell when the heart was about to stop.

Those early years he’d spoken to me of our history in the world and tales of his nights with Seth, his maker, the very first of us all.

“Tell me what you know,” he said now.

The words held no hint of emotion or feeling. We were soldiers, expendable, usable, and nothing more.

“The night market thrives, my lord, as does the black market,” Mateo answered in his even tone. Betrayal sparked through my chest even as I knew he would never put them in danger. “Your dens are well staffed and flow with customers.”

Those customers didn’t know they put their coin straight into the pocket of the very ones they abhorred.

That in their most vulnerable state as they drank from their blood givers, the witches within his employ spoke to them the propaganda they’d been fed of a better world beneath the Covenant’s rule.

They weaved their intention with their magic and, over time, brought new members into Mael’s ranks.

“And the other?”

I built the wall I’d lived behind for so many years, not moving an inch at the mention of others . Risqeu lan Serang was the last surviving den and the last on his list of threats.

“Soon to shut down all on its own, my lord,” Mateo said. As the eldest he spoke for us all.

“And the Lycans?”

Mael had countless Lycans within his employ and it was these to whom he was referring now.

Mateo was the prodigal son, after his brief rebellion when he’d first been made, he was the one whom Mael considered his right hand above all others.

It was Mateo who met with the Lycans and their clans, who spoke to them of the prosperity of the Covenant —or so Mael believed.

“Eager to be at your service, sire, and grateful for the gifts you bestowed.”

Little did he know Mateo offered the luynaverso and healing elixirs to the clans with no strings or expectations attached.

He also had no idea that Eamon joined Mateo on these trips, speaking with the alphas and making lists of things they might need in order to protect themselves should Mael ever decide on an all-out war.

Our maker hummed thoughtfully and clicked his tongue. “And you?”

He did not need to say my name for me to know I was being addressed.

Slowly I lifted my head, forcing back the hatred until it merely simmered behind my own self-abhorration.

Lilith was there in the bond, her concern over this spark of rage and despair a balm against the wounds that would never heal.

“Feeding from the synthetic stores, sire. It has been a week since my last and I feared I would lose control during the ritual if I did not.”

Emotion flickered behind his black eyes but I did not know what it was.

Could he scent her on me, even with the potent blood beneath us?

His presence pushed against my mind, the gift we all feared above any other.

In the beginning we had been victim to this power and he’d ransacked our thoughts, twisted our fears until we were putty in his hands.

I had been the one to learn the skill of keeping him out, creating a chamber inside my mind that showed him exactly what he wanted to see.

I’d taught the others the same skill along with anyone else who needed protection from his wrath .

Mael said nothing else, merely turned and strode from the room through the secret door leading to his chambers.

But we knew he was still listening even as our shoulders sagged.

We got to our feet. Henry and I held a hand out to Gabrielle to assist her.

She was silent, as she always was after these rituals, her green eyes fixed to the stone table.

“Come on, love,” Henry murmured, wrapping an arm around her waist and leading her from the room.

Our shoes left bloody footprints as we left. We did not say a word as we descended the stairs back to our wing. Silence reigned even until Henry murmured soft words into Gabrielle’s ear and pulled her into her living quarters.

“That’s it,” he crooned and there was the rustle of fabric falling to the floor. “Almost there, beloved.”

Water splashed in a bowl, followed by Gabrielle’s ragged exhale. Mateo and I relaxed in sync at the sound, exchanging a look before departing to our own rooms to change. I washed the blood from my skin, eyeing the night out the window. It was still early—early enough that I could go to Lilith.

The memory of her washed over me and I groaned, gripping the window ledge. She was remembering too. Images flashed through my mind of my face, my eyes bright in the dark, the feel of my fabric covered cock sliding against her core.

Fuck.

My body responded as it had the night she’d drunk my blood.

I’d woken in my coffin to a new rhythm inside my chest. When I’d realized what she’d done, I hadn’t been able to stem the joy and desire that flooded me.

Desire she’d returned, and we’d both put tinder to the flames until I’d been fisting my cock in my coffin and coming to the sound of her cries in my mind.

Now she was standing at the river, staring out at the water, but unlike the first night I’d seen her she had no thoughts of jumping.

She was remembering the feel of my tongue on her skin and wishing I had not left.

There was a bitter tinge to her memories while she thought of all the times I’d vanished.

Times when, if I had not left, I would have surely ruined everything.

I threw on fresh clothes, brushed back my hair and secured it with my usual ribbon.

I needed to see her, just for a moment, just to ensure she was safe.

But duty had a hold on my throat and, though I wanted nothing more than to step onto the ledge and slip through the window, I turned away from it and toward our shared parlor.

Mateo sat in his usual armchair, elbows resting on his knees and eyes trained on the fire.

“Is she talking yet?”

He ran a hand over his face before pinching the bridge of his nose. “No. Henry’s drawn her a bath. This time was worse than the others. I think she was too close.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “That was my fault. If I hadn’t been late…”

The words trailed off. If I hadn’t been late, she would have been farther from the woman and Gabrielle’s horrifying power might not have taken such a hold.

For, if too close, her power she had inherited from her human magic forced her to experience the pain and terror of any mortal nearby.

She had experienced that woman’s torture tonight and her subsequent death—no doubt now she was pressing a hand to her breast to assure herself her heart still beat.

“Don’t blame yourself. She knew what she risked,” Mateo murmured, reaching one hand toward me.

Closing the distance between us, I took it, squeezing tight.

He rested his forehead on my knuckles, breathing deep.

Mateo bore the responsibility of protecting us heavily on his shoulders; it was why he spoke for us regardless of who had news.

My mind was the strongest against Mael’s probing, but what Mateo might have lacked in finesse, he made up for in his unwavering loyalty to us.

I rested a palm against the back of his head, the familiar texture of his braids against my skin a comfort as it had been for almost a thousand years. He took another deep breath and I knew there were a multitude of things he wished to say, but we weren’t safe here in our maker’s home.

“Will you go out tonight to check on the market?” he asked.

A muscle ticked in my jaw. “Gabrielle…”

Mateo leaned back, covering the back of my hand with his.

“Is in Henry’s capable hands and would not want you hovering.

” I shook my head but Mateo rose and guided me toward one of the floor-to-ceiling windows, voice dropping low enough no one would manage to hear even if they were standing beside us.

“Go to her, Callum, ease your weary heart.”

He pressed his forehead to mine for a brief moment before turning away and back to the fire.

I hesitated, hand on the ornate iron latch, watching as he fell back into his chair.

My question for Lilith had been the same as the one I had for Mateo: Who takes care of you?

Centuries ago, I’d done my best to take up the mantle, knowing that I had been made to keep him in line and bring him to heel when he tried to rebel against Mael.

Caring for him was the least I could do.

But he was stubborn, just like Lilith. And just like Lilith, loneliness dripped from him like blood from a wound.

I opened my mouth to say anything that might be a comfort, but no words came out. So I closed it, turned the latch and shot into the sky .

Vampires of a certain age all possessed the power of flight.

It was a matter of will and manipulation of the elements, or so Mael had explained one night before he pushed me off the tallest tower of his palace.

I’d broken every bone in my body that night and subsequent nights until I’d found the skill.

The bond between Lilith and I shimmered.

She was in her apartment. Flashes of the altar below the window came every so often.

Candles burst into life, offerings placed within their proper bowls.

I wondered if she had bought a bowl for her mother or if she was still afraid to.

I’d been tempted to buy it for her but thought better of it.

Every cell in my body told me to go to her. I ached for even just the sight of her. My chest squeezed painfully. Later, I would have time to look my fill before the night was done. Instead, I moved toward the outskirts of Oylen and the great mansion nestled within the vibrant forest.

Eamon waited for me on the second-story balcony, leaning against the rails. His black hair was swept back from his face, curling around his collar, but a few strands blew into his eyes as I landed beside him.

“What is it?” He reached out an arm, drawing me close.

Before me was the greatest male I’d ever known—brave and strong, the kind of vampire I’d wished time and time again had sired us.

And here before me was the only one with whom I knew I could share my secret.

But those ancient eyes saw right through me and his face which had at first pinched into an expression of fear now melted into one of shock.

His brows furrowed. “Who?”

“Lilith…Lilith Searah.”