Fated In Secrets (Nocturne Vampire Clan #2)

Chapter 49

49

EVANGELINE

P ain hit me like a thunderbolt.

Sharp, searing, not my own, sending my heart racing.

We were almost to the door of the castle when I staggered, clutching my chest as rain streaked down my face in a blinding stream. Agony rushed all the way into my ribcage, like the tip of a sword puncturing my heart in a death blow.

This wasn’t just pain—this was Blake’s pain.

“Evangeline, what is wrong?” Nash’s arms went around me before I collapsed, keeping me out of the mud, my head a jumble, my senses scrambling, my bond on fucking fire .

Images flashed in my mind, disjointed and hazy. Shadowy forms slithered amongst the scent of freshly spilled blood, cold, merciless sneers of voices I recognized all too well. Collum. Valaine. My father .

Everything was overlaid with some strange metallic reek, the same smell—taste—I’d experienced when I’d been spiked in a field, left for bait. Iron . Blake couldn’t fight back, because they’d nulled his magic.

Blake’s pain swept every bit of reason out of my head. He was alone, and I had to reach him. I loved him and my bastard of a father was hurting him.

I had to get to him, had to go now, had to…

I spilled out of Nash’s arms in a wild, desperate tangle, splashing onto my hands and knees into a dirty puddle, scrambling on all fours. Where was he, where was he, oh God, where…

Hemlocke House . Blake had gone to Hemlocke House.

For a meeting, Nash said, or something. He was right about the rest, though.

Morvessa couldn’t be trusted.

She’d sold us out, sold Blake out. I saw what they planned to do, since my father was so fucking predictable. They would use Blake to draw out Riordan, then kill the rest of us while the castle was empty.

Clutching that burning spot in my chest, I reached and reached for Blake. Further and further, my chest igniting with a desperate, keening fire. He was dying . My father was killing him. I released a muffled scream, feet sliding through mud and mulch as I scrambled to reach that door.

“Evangeline.” Nash snapped, fingers circling my arm before I wrenched free. “Stop. You’re hurting yourself.”

“I have to go.” Tears and snot mixed with the rain, a salty, blazing mix. “I have to get to him before they kill him.”

“Who?” Nash whipped me around, and I peered up at his pinched face through soaked strands of hair. “Who the fuck are they killing?”

“Blake.” The sudden silence between us was worse than the pain, worse than the wind and rain whipping my hair into painful tangles. “Please, Nash, we have to go, now. They’re killing him. But I don’t know where Hemlocke House even is.”

No idea how to get there, or how to fight all three of them at once, because my magic was fucking worthless.

His gaze fell on my hand, twisting in my shirt into knots. “You’re feeling his pain right now?” I jerked my head. “Tell me everything you know while we walk. ”

Walk was somewhat of an overstatement. Nash dragged me into the castle, then down the hall, leaving puddles of muddy rainwater in our wake, my teeth chattering. But I explained everything I knew about Collum, and Valaine and Silas.

To his credit, Nash didn’t argue, he only shook his head. “I can get you to Ebonshade, but it’ll take time to gather enough soldiers to face those three. And once I take them with me, I’m leaving the castle unprotected.” I heard everything he wasn’t saying. Leaving your sister unprotected.

Leaving Riordan vulnerable.

And right there, in all its twisted irony, was the answer.

Riordan . Or Ravok, or whatever the fuck his name was .

“Come with me. I have an idea.” An increasingly suspicious Nash trailed me into the ballroom, Riordan’s head snapping up like a feral wolf’s the second we stepped into his space, crimson-red magic snapping around him like a beast of prey.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“I never said this was a good idea.” I hissed. “I need to talk to Riordan,” I stopped a healthy distance away. “I need his help.”

Ravok stared at me from Riordan’s eyes. “What sort of help could that weakling offer you that I cannot?”

Right. Appeal to his ego, always a good approach when dealing with homicidal maniacs.

“It’s Blake,” I said, my voice trembling, swiping wet strands of hair out of my face. “Your friend. He’s at Hemlocke House, and he’s... I think he’s dying.”

Riordan’s expression darkened, the red magic around him flared brighter like fire. “How do you know this?”

“I just do,” I snapped. “I don’t have time to give you a history lesson, but if we don’t get there soon, we’ll lose our advantage. They’ll move Blake to a secure location, then use him to draw you out.”

“They think to trap me?”

I nodded. “Oh, they sure do. Like a rabbit. Or a rat.” I narrowed my eyes. “And here’s something else. If anything happens to him, I will use every fucking weapon at my disposal to destroy you. I will carve you out of that body like meat from an oyster and when I am finished, I will hand you over to the witches and let them pick you apart until there is nothing left.”

Magic choked the room, behind me, Nash coughed and spluttered.

“What will you give me if I save Blake?”

I fearlessly met those cruel, pitch-black eyes.

I was a fool. A complete and utter fool . “Anything you want.”

His smile turned wide and cunning and the pain in my chest burned even hotter. “Then Silverwood blood is my asking price. Agree and I will take care of these…nuisances for you, Evangeline .”

“Two mouthfuls, no more. Take the deal or leave it.” I countered. For a moment, he hesitated, his jaw tightening as if the real Riordan was locked in battle with the monster who possessed him. Then he held out his hand.

“You will come with me,” he said, his tone brooking no argument. I didn’t hesitate, gripping his fingers tightly as the world around us dissolved into a sheet of whirling crimson.

Nash muttered something behind me that sounded an awful lot like are you fucking serious , but I could barely hear him over the rush of power, my ears popping, magic tearing at my face, wheezing while I fought for air. This was worse than drowning, raw power searing the insides of me with a cold icier than winter .

“If you don’t slow down, you’ll kill me before we even get there.” I wheezed and the next second, the onslaught disappeared, replaced by a rush of cold, bitter air, the world blurring into a dark smear as we hurtled toward Hemlocke House.

When we materialized, the scene before us was worse than I’d imagined.

Blake lay crumpled on the marble floor, his broken body in a growing pool of blood. Standing over him were Collum, Valaine, and a bruised-up Silas, who looked like he’d been beaten within an inch of his life.

Their smug expressions twisted into shock when we appeared.

Then became triumph.

“Well, that worked better than we imagined. And you brought the bitch along.” Collum grinned, his single fang glinting. “We figured it’d take days of negotiation to draw you out. Now we can finish this. I’ll be on the throne sooner than expected, it seems.”

My father was watching me with an expression that made my skin crawl. “ Evangeline .” I flinched at his cold tone, the greed glittering in his eyes. “How I will enjoy watching Valaine rip you apart after what you did to Alistair. I’ve told him he can do anything he’d like, over and over again. We have the best healers, they can fix anything.”

“From the looks of your face, I’d say your healers could use some training.” I told my father, looking for an opening. I had to get closer to Blake.

A low, primal growl vibrated the air, the walls around us, Riordan advancing as I edged back, circling to my right, within reach of Blake, but out of the way of the brewing shitshow about to take place .

The best part was, these fucks had no idea what was about to happen to them.

Riordan/Ravok wasted no time. “You made a grave mistake,” he growled, red magic surging around him like a molten storm.

Silas and Valaine barely had time to react before tendrils of crimson fire lashed out, gashes opening up on their faces, necks, shredding apart their clothes, exposing burned flesh beneath. The next second, Collum vanished, abandoning the fight with one wild glance backwards at his doomed compatriots.

“You fucking bitch ,” Silas pointed a shaking finger at me. “You think you can win? Your mother thought the same and look how that night turned out for her.”

Riordan snarled, the picture of death incarnate, and with his glowing red eyes and wicked, magic, all I wanted was for him to crush my father like a fucking bug.

Riordan stepped closer, his magic lashing both of them. My father grunted, making the same, desperate sound he’d forced from others—forced from my own throat—a thousand times, and I fucking enjoyed his pain.

I wanted him to suffer, wanted him to…

When Riordan’s foot landed on the floor, his magic fizzled, fading away as if it had never existed. That was when I tasted the tang of metal in my mouth and knew how they’d trapped Blake.

How they’d trapped us all.

My father was a fucking mess, but Valaine—obviously immune to pain—pulled his curved blade from his scabbard and lifted it over Blake’s exposed throat, eyes meeting mine, his intention made clear.

“Not today, motherfucker,” I hissed as I threw my dagger.

The throw was perfect, fueled by anger and desperation to protect my mate. Valaine parried, knocking the knife away, but he wasn’t fast enough to dodge my second one.

The blade sank into the center of his chest with a pleasing thud, the ripping sound of metal colliding with cartilage sent a shiver straight through me. Then the air behind us shifted and boots thundered as Nash and his reinforcements arrived.

“Stop,” I held out my hand. “Don’t get to close, this entire hallway is lined with iron, hidden in the walls and floor. It will take your magic and sap your strength.”

For one fraught second we all stared at each other, my ruined father, Valaine, my knife protruding from his thin chest, barely missing the bastard’s heart, Riordan/Ravok, aghast he was actually powerless, and me.

“You were always a fool, like Aurora,” Silas husked, his voice a wet death rattle. “You’ll never stop what’s coming.”

“Oh, we’ll stop you,” I spat, fingers flexing as I debated going for my last weapon and finishing him off. My heart stilled at how easy it would be to kill Silas. How utterly simple, to end my own father’s life.

A life I wouldn’t mind taking, not one bit.

Ever so slowly, like time had somehow turned to honey, Riordan’s head turned, gaze locking with mine, and in those red flecked eyes, I saw something that curdled my stomach. Approval.

Then the sickening sound of Blake’s pained gasps broke through and tense muscles turned weak, my gaze dragged away from my enemies to my mate, writhing on the floor.

Winning didn’t matter. Beating them…didn’t matter.

Blake was the only thing I cared about. I would have traded my soul, given up my life, my immortality to save him. But I didn’t have to.

Valaine’s fingers brushed my father’s ravaged shoulder, then their forms dissolved away in a haze of shadowy magic. I rushed to Blake’s side, my hands trembling as I knelt beside him, discovering wound after wound, so many broken bones I lost count. He was barely conscious, his breaths shallow and labored.

“Blake,” I whispered, tears streaming down my face. “You’ll be okay. I promise. Can we drag him away from all this iron?”

“Sylvester’s on his way. He’ll get Blake stabilized, then take him back to the castle for treatment.” Nash flicked his eyes over my mate. “I don’t want to move him and there’s too many injuries for us to dematerialize him like this, but Sylvester’s the best, he’ll get him fixed up, Evie.”

He squeezed my shoulder. “Blake’s lucky. If you hadn’t gotten here when you did, I hate to imagine what might have happened.”

Nash eyed Riordan and his flickering red magic nervously. “But this one…we need to get him back to the castle,” he warned, his voice tight. “Before he brings this place down around us.”

I nodded, gripping Blake’s hand as Riordan stepped back and back, his magic returning the moment he was out of the range of the iron. The nulling metal was everywhere, on every wall, the floor, the ceiling overhead. A trap for unsuspecting visitors, and I wondered how many more there were like this inside Hemlocke House.

When Blake finally stirred, his eyes fluttering open, the wave of relief was so overwhelming it left me breathless. “You’re safe,” I said softly, squeezing his hand as Sylvester materialized, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but here.

Blake’s lips quirked into the faintest of smiles. “Took you long enough,” he rasped, and tears sprang to my eyes before I could stop them.

“For the love of god, get him off the goddamned iron.” Sylvester snapped. “Put him over there, and I’ll start healing the worst of the injuries.” He fixed me with his cold stare. “You are in my way.”

“Glad to see you, too.” I grumbled, squeezing Blake’s hand as two soldiers hefted him up off the floor. “Good luck, I hope…” I winced at the grunt of pure pain that came out of his mouth, “this doesn’t hurt too much.”

“What’s going on with Rohr?” Blake squinted through the blood, eyes almost swollen shut. “He seems…off.”

“Long story. I’ll catch you up once Sylvester works his magic. Now go be a good patient.” I couldn’t describe my relief. A few minutes later and this would have turned out so differently.

Riordan wasn’t even looking at us, he was gazing at the circular staircase leading upstairs, a dangerous, predatory glint in his eyes. “Lady Morvessa,” he muttered, his voice like ice. “She’s up there. Are you coming with me?”

Blake gazed between us, his brow furrowed beneath the blood, a look of dawning realization on his face. “What is…no. No, Evie. I don’t know what’s going on, but you’re not going anywhere with him.”

“I have to agree with him, Evangeline.” Nash put in. “That’s a very bad idea.”

“Nash, I know what I’m doing.” Well, not really. “And Riordan’s fine.” I lied. “We have to finish this, or she’ll escape and we’ll lose this advantage, do you understand?”

“No, Evie.” Blake shook his head. “Riordan’s… wrong .”

“He won’t hurt me.” I laid my hand over Blake’s. He won’t hurt me, I promise.

Blake fought an inner war with himself before he muttered, “Do not take any chances, Evie. I mean it.”

Nash, after taking a long, hard look at Riordan, jerked his head to the steps, “go, I’ve got this. But don’t let your fucking guard down, not even for a second.”

I gripped my remaining knife, took one last look at my mate and climbed to my feet. My body was charged with hate and anger, vibrating with the need to hurt something. “Fine, I’m coming, but don’t expect me to play nice. That bitch almost killed my mate.”