Fated In Secrets (Nocturne Vampire Clan #2)

Chapter 48

48

BLAKE

I should’ve recognized the danger, the moment the gilded doors of Hemlocke House slammed shut behind me. Lady Morvessa’s smile had been too sharp, her words too practiced. But I’d been desperate to believe she wanted the same future we did.

Which was only my first mistake.

The too-sweet air thickened in the dimly lit grand hall when I turned at the deliberate tramp of heavy footsteps echoing off the marble floors. Male steps.

“Blake Marten,” Collum Anders’ voice dripped with mock civility as he stepped out of a hidden alcove. “Predictable as usual.”

Valaine crept out of the shadows behind him, pale eyes glinting like silver coins, followed by a swaggering Silas Silverwood, whose bruised, snarling face promised a world of pain.

My bones turned to steel.

My teeth turned sharp, ready to bite.

All three of them. A trifecta of fucking evil and I yanked the knife from my belt and pulled up my shadows, sent them spinning across the floor, dark tendrils reaching for the blood of my enemies, eager to carve them to pieces.

“You obeyed like a loyal dog, Blake,” Collum said, his lips curling into a smirk. “Though I suppose that was the whole idea, wasn’t it?”

“Looks like Morvessa sold us out," I muttered as I pulled my deadly shadows back. Get them talking , I thought, get them to reveal their plan, then finish them off.

Little did they know how my power raged. This time, I didn’t have to worry about harming my mate, or innocent bystanders. This time, I could turn my power loose and let it break them, wreck this entire place.

“The Lady of Ebonshade sends her regards,” Collum purred, leaning casually against one of the ornate columns as Valaine and Silas moved to flank him. “Malachi has such a talent for finding weak spots, don’t you think?”

I clenched my fists and prowled forward. Fuck learning about their plans . I ordered my shadows to shred these fuckers apart and a black consuming wave rose over their heads, then crashed down with enough force to shatter bones, crush flesh.

Silas laughed, the sound skating across my nerves as my shadows swept toward them like death personified…then snuffed out like a candle’s flame.

The caustic taste of metal coated my mouth, stuck to my tongue, filled my lungs.

Iron.

My eyes darted over the walls, along the edges of the darkened room. Subtle glints of iron filigree ran through the decorative molding, through the grout lines in the floor beneath me, like prison bars hidden in plain sight. Enough of the cursed metal to render my magic completely useless.

“Let’s not draw this out,” Silas said, his voice colder than the blade he brandished. “We take Marten down, then head to Darkmore to draw out the king.”

I backed away, my mind racing as I tried to dematerialize past the wall of swords and steel. But I couldn’t move, they closed in, their movements deliberate and practiced, as if they’d run through this scenario multiple times.

“You see,” Collum said, drawing his sword, “I can’t kill you outright. Not yet. You’re the one person the king will leave the precious safety of his castle for. But,” he added with a cruel grin, “I can make you hurt.”

Before I could react, he lunged, driving his blade through my shoulder.

Pain exploded through me, sharp and blinding. I staggered, choking back a cry, and Collum twisted the blade, his smirk widening as sinew and muscle shredded, my arm going dead.

“That’s better,” he said, yanking the bloodied knife free as Collum kicked the backs of my knees out, breath exploding from my mouth.

Valaine was on me next, his boot connecting with my ribs with enough force to make stars explode behind my eyes. I gasped out a curse, drew another weapon with my good hand, slashing out as another blow came, feeling that grim satisfaction as my blade cleaved through pale flesh.

Valaine pulled back, nursing the gash across his forearm. “You always thought you were better than us,” he spat, “but look at you now. Powerless. Helpless.”

Silas moved in, his strikes calculated and efficient, each one meant to hurt, to break. I lost my knife when he broke my fingers, my arm, blood pooled beneath me, warm and sticky, my strength fading along with my vision as I staggered to the side.

Through the haze, Collum’s voice asked again, cold and taunting. “Did you really think your little rebellion could stand against us?”

“Yes.” I fumbled at my belt, ruined fingers clawing at the hilt of my one remaining blade. But broken bones wouldn’t obey even my most desperate commands.

Collum appeared in my vision, eyes narrowing as he plunged his dagger into the center of my chest. The hilt struck my sternum with a thunk that echoed through me, seconds before fiery pain made my jaws snap together hard enough to shatter my teeth.

I touched the still-warm hilt, the bloom of red growing around the buried blade.

My thoughts blurred, slipping away like sand through my fingers. But one image held on, clear and unyielding, warming my cold insides as my blood spilled and spilled.

Evangeline .

I reached out, trying to touch her smile, the way her determination burned brighter than any magic. I thought of the way she’d stood by Riordan, by me, even when the odds were against us.

I’d wanted more time.

I’d wanted to tell her...

My vision darkened, the pain fading into a dull throb but the blows kept coming. And coming , until they were distant and far off, little more than tugging sensations as things broke and burst, my mouth filled with a deluge of my own blood.

I wanted to tell her…I loved her…but then there was nothing.