Chapter 20
20
EVANGELINE
I picked splinters from my hands as I emerged from the tunnel, relief flooding through me when I finally stumbled out into the moonlit park. The castle loomed high on the hill behind me, its outline stark against the cloudy sky. I was outside the protective wards—and the air out here tasted different. This tasted of freedom, and after a few deep breaths, a heavy weight lifted off my shoulders.
I was outside the stuffy castle and the rules and Riordan’s endless games.
I half expected Nash or his guards to come rushing in from all sides.
But there was no one there. Just silence and the sound of the river.
Until I smelled it.
The rank, familiar tang of a scent I hadn’t encountered in years but would never forget: sandalwood and something darker, almost burnt. My blood ran cold. I knew exactly who that smell belonged to—Silas Silverwood.
My heart pounded in my chest, and I spun around, scanning the darkness between the trees. Out of the corner of my eye, movement flickered in the shadows and a figure stepped forward, tall and bulky. My father.
My breath caught as two more figures slipped out behind him—Dante and Alistair, my uncles. Their sharp, serpentine smiles cut through me like razors.
“Hello, Evangeline,” my father drawled, his chuckle skating over my skin as he brandished one of his signature serrated blades. “You found the way out. How convenient. Good thing we knew where to wait.”
My mind raced, the pieces clicking together, twenty minutes too late. Fucking Malachi had set me up. I clenched my fists, a familiar resolve settling in as they closed in around me. I might be out numbered, but I wouldn’t make this easy.
I took a step back, hand slipping to the single dagger sheathed at my side. I couldn’t take on three fully-trained slayers, but their skin would cut, their bones would break and these fuckers had trained me.
I’d memorized their moves, and learned a few new ones.
“We can’t hurt her.” Alistair muttered, malice gleaming in his eyes. “Or there will be hell to pay.”
“Not sure I much care, right now.” My father countered, “Not after she burned White Chapel to the ground. And I didn’t give the bastard my word, you did.”
“Silas, we can’t…” Alistair’s face fell. “He’ll fucking kill me.”
“That’s your problem.” Silas was too far gone in his rage to listen to reason, far past that edge of violence he walked, and I darted to one side, only to be cut off.
“Where do you think you’re going, niece?” Dante sneered, spreading his enormous arms to block my path.
“Don’t fucking hurt her.” Alistair begged, a touch of desperation in his voice. Who had he promised? Collum? Valaine?
I spun, feet digging into the soft loam, aiming for the opening between Dante and Alistair, the woods beyond. Alistair lunged for my arm, but I ducked, spinning around to jab my dagger into his side. He twisted and my blade ripped free before I struck his heart, but his teeth were gritted behind his smile, making him look like a feral wolf.
“Not fast enough, Evangeline,” Dante taunted. “Surely you can do better than that.”
“You’re slowing down in your old age, uncle. Maybe you should stock up on multi vitamins.” I tightened my grip on the dagger, brandishing the blade in front of me as I retreated, but my father slid in behind me, smooth as a snake. He moved faster than he should be able to—damn Tyrell’s magic blood—snagging my hair before I managed to twist out of range.
Silas jerked me to a stop, Dante grinning as he pulled out a set of iron shackles, letting them dangle loose in his hand before he swung.
I didn’t see the blow coming, only the slice of cold metal across my face, the bone in my right cheek cracking, that eye going dim as the woods, the night sky spun in sickening circles before I managed to grab the nearest tree, knees buckling, bile rising.
The three of them closed in, cutting off every avenue of escape, and hope dwindled to fear. They would hurt me, once they disarmed me. Fists and steel toed boots would crush and bruise and then they’d shackle me to null down my power.
Maybe if I’d fed this week.
Maybe if I’d focused on staying strong, rather than creeping around the castle looking for trouble, I might be able to mount a decent defense tonight. Maybe, one of these days, I’d learn not to fuck myself over.
Silas’s hot breath skated over the nape of my neck. “You stole from us, Evangeline. You burned down my home. For that, you will pay.” I shoved away from him, vision wonky as I stumbled sideways. Maybe one more burst of energy, maybe I could come up with one more.
Fingers dug into the meat below my collarbone, pinching the nerve until my entire arm went numb, the knife slipping from my fingers.
“No, no,” my father crooned, gripping my shoulder with bruising strength. “You’re not going anywhere.”
I tore free, using the momentum to dive for the dagger. My fingertips brushed the hilt, but Alistair lifted me from behind, his arm wrapped around my neck. I panicked, clawing at his Kevlar sleeve, trying to wriggle free.
“Stay still and I won’t let them hurt you.”
“Like you’d ever keep your word, uncle.” I kicked back with my foot and missed, but enough Alistair stumbled.
They’d always been stronger, always found ways to twist me into a puppet for their cruel games. Old memories bubbled up—the cold, harsh lessons, the mocking scorn in my father’s eyes.
A few weeks ago, they’d nearly killed me.
This time…this time they would not succeed.
I dropped my weight, yanking Alistair forward, off balance enough he stumbled. I slipped free and crashed to my knees, whirled and slammed my closed fist straight into his kneecap, feeling the cartilage give beneath my split knuckles.
It’s a strange joint, the knee.
A little pressure in the wrong direction and everything goes wrong.
His thigh went one way, his shin the other, and his face went a sickly, mottled gray before he projectile vomited all over my father. Good fucking riddance .
Dante lunged, claw like hands outstretched, but I ducked scooped up my knife and slashed the blade downward, grazing his forearm. He cursed and yanked back, eyes flashing with anger.
“You’ve learned some tricks,” he snarled. “But they won’t save you.”
My breaths were coming too fast, I couldn’t see out of one eye, my cheekbone was shattered.
Silas and Dante closed in, those shackles begging to be fit around my wrists. I was running on fumes, the edges of my strength fraying. The castle loomed over my father’s shoulders, golden light glowing in the windows, the town of Thorndale a ten-minute walk away, so close and yet, so impossible to reach.
Silas chuckled again, low and cold. “Did you really think you could escape, Evangeline?” His voice twisted through me, taunting. “We’ve always known where to find you.”
“Find me? Yes.” My vision blurred with fury. “Control me—no,” I hissed.
“Is that so?” My father murmured, raising his closed fist. As a child, I’d flinched from that hand, from the pain those merciless knuckles inflicted.
As a soldier, I’d endured .
Today, I spat in his face.
“You little bitch.” He dragged his hand down his face, dragging a shiny trail of saliva right along with it and I grinned, blood trickling down my chin. Fuck him . Fuck my uncles and fuck whatever they planned to do to me.
The darkness in the woods paused.
Like a wave of hungry silence rippling toward us, I felt Riordan’s approach in my bones, through the bond, in my veins as my blood heaved and bucked like a wild creature.
Riordan was awe-inspiring when he materialized, dragging a cloak of red tinged flames behind him, like he’d been moving too fast for his magic to keep up with. The small clearing pulsed with power, snow whirling where warm spring air had breezed a moment before.
I might not like Riordan, but I’d never been so glad to see him, even though this was the second time I’d been rescued in as many days and my battered pride was taking a serious hit.
My uncles retreated, dragging a groaning Alistair between them and in that scrambling moment of hesitation, Riordan shoved me behind him.
“This ends now,” he rumbled, his voice carrying through the entire forest. Light blinded me, brilliant in the darkness, scorching my one good eye and my lungs when I sucked in an ill-timed gasp as the full force of his power hit me.
This was like swimming in boiling water, or flying through ice.
When the light finally faded, my uncles and my father were gone.
All around us, as far as I could see, was devastation. Trees felled in a perfect circle, bare, smoking trunks arranged like matchsticks, and even the river seemed to pause, the rushing water silent.
I held out my hand, my palm filling with snow, then melting, water dripping between my fingers as I pressed the cold to my aching eye.
Riordan was beside me, fingers curled beneath my chin, tipping my face up to his. “Oh, Evangeline.” His eyes shone like diamonds, not a shred of color, only a deep, devouring blackness and in the center, where his iris should be, a small red flame burned. “What did those fucking monsters do to you?”
“Oh god, where did they go?” The question was more of a whimper than words, a deep, grinding pain obscuring everything as I tried to push myself off the ground. Nothing worked, my arms were rubber, my face a pulsing mass of agony.
“I don’t know, but they moved like we do. Dematerialized into thin air. I have to get you out of here, Evie. Hold on, I’m picking you up.”
He slipped his arms beneath my shaking body and rolled me against his chest. My fingers dug into his shoulders, tears flooding my eyes as he carefully adjusted me, moaning when my injured face brushed against his coat.
“Hang on, Evie. Hang on a few more minutes until I have you home.”
And then, in a single breath, we were back within the castle walls, in a room I didn’t recognize, except everything was permeated with that rich, coffee scent. Riordan carried me over to a well-worn chair and settled me into the soft leather, the adrenaline wearing off, leaving me dizzy and weak.
“I sent for Sylvester. I shouldn’t have dematerialized with you, but I had to get you somewhere safe. He needs to heal you, right the fuck now.” He yanked off his coat, tossed it onto the floor, then flung open the door.
“I don’t need to see Sylvester.” I grumbled out of the side of my mouth as the room spun in sickening circles. “He hates me, anyway.”
Riordan returned, his expression hard as he knelt down, inspecting my eye, my crushed cheek, his fingers tracing gently over every injury.
“Don’t tell me what you need. If you could see what I…” he swallowed, his face a shade whiter than it was before. “don’t argue with me, Evie.”
I expected a lecture. For him to scold me for sneaking out past the wards, for putting myself—and the rest of the castle—in danger.
“You’re so badly hurt,” he whispered, his voice quieter, softer. He went to the fireplace and stacked logs, then sent a ripple of red flame over them. They ignited in a rush of ozone-scented sparks, the room heating instantly. “You need to heal before you lose the vision in your eye. You need to feed. Here .”
Riordan fell to his knees before me, strong fingers flexing as he loosened his tie, the dark blue silk sliding free with a silent hiss. One button, then two, then three, and I stared at a wide expanse of bare skin marked by thick, writhing tattoos I ached to reach out and touch.
To slide my tongue along, down and down and down, until I reached…
“This is all my fault. I took too much from you, Silver, and I gave nothing back.” His fingers trailed down the undamaged side of my face, confusing me with his gentleness, then pushed closer, until I was drenched in his rich, decadent scent that sent logic straight out the window.
“You need blood. You need my blood.”
“I don’t think I can.” The right side of my face was uncooperative, tears pricking my good eye. “I can barely open my mouth. I can’t feed.”
But God, I wanted to. I needed to. I was starving.
Not the bloodlust-ravening-hunger of when I’d first been turned, but a deeper, more abiding hunger. A hunger of the soul. A hunger that demanded to be slaked, here, now. Tonight.
I wanted to take my time, to enjoy him, slowly and leisurely, but I already knew that wouldn’t be the case.
Even injured, even blind in one eye, even with half my face crushed, I wanted to crawl onto him, sink my fangs into that long stretch of throat and take what I wanted. I looked away instead, clenching and unclenching my hands.
I could hardly stand that raw, aching concern in his face, his seething fury at what had been done to me. And I couldn’t accept the promise of what those two things meant.
I care.
“Soon, then. Sylvester is on his way.” Riordan picked some of my hair out of the drying blood. “He’ll have you mended in a heartbeat, then you will feed, Evangeline.”
I would have told him no, but my defiance was in tatters, my ravenous need a wild thing thrashing to be released.
Ten minutes later, Sylvester was healing me with his usual vigor, while Riordan’s hand rested on my shoulder, murmuring to me the entire time. “You’ll be alright. You’re safe now, Evangeline. I won’t let your family touch you again.”
I looked up at him, gratitude and exhaustion warring in my chest. But even as his promise settled over me, one thought burned brightly in my mind. There was someone inside these walls who had betrayed me, and when I found Malachi, I would eviscerate him.