Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
SILVANUS
Every single face turned this way, a collective gasp bouncing off the buildings.
We’d lingered here too long because of me.
As the shriek of warning alarms tore through the city, the watching vampires moved into action on the edges of the area.
Medusa created a portal. I grabbed Paris and Elio, dragging them through.
Chaos rang behind us. Screaming, panic, the bells of the temple clanging aggressively.
Aidan. That bastard. What was his plan here? To set a rabid mob upon us?
From somewhere deep inside me, I heard his laughter, saw his rotting smile.
“What the fuck?” Paris breathed.
Medusa returned us to the house. The moment we arrived, I released Elio and checked Paris over. Of course, he was alright, having suffered no attack. Yet the palpable fear spurred me on to be sure, to take no risks with my…my…
Spark in the dark…
Paris sighed, his brow creased. “Shit. What are we going to do? He’s always one step ahead.” He chuffed, beginning to pace. “It’s this damn connection. Caer was right. He’s not completely sealed off.” He ran his hand through his silver hair, a wild rage igniting in his eyes.
I have to keep him safe, my inner voice whispered.
Medusa went to speak, but Aidan appeared, throwing his head back in laughter.
Curse it!
“Well, isn’t this fun?” he drawled.
I put myself between him and Paris. “You’ll never lay a finger on him again.”
Aidan wrinkled his nose. Hal’s face had slimmed somewhat, his hair and beard almost fully golden.
“Sickening,” the bastard retorted. “To think you loved me so, Paris Raine. So devout, so loyal. And now you’re cowering behind a vampire? My, how the righteous do fall.”
Paris stepped around me, drawing his stakeblade. “I’ve never cowered behind anyone in my life.”
I moved with him, ready to put myself between any attack.
Aidan’s golden eyes raked up and down the elf’s body. “There is a way to destroy that body for good.” He cocked his head. “I just have to find it.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Paris clapped back.
Aidan smirked, then vanished.
“Where did he go?” Elio said.
A shiver licked at the back of my neck. Something cut through the air beside me, hitting flesh with a thwack, the scent of honeyed blood rich on the air.
“Paris!” Medusa roared.
I turned, seeing the ice pick skewering his neck. He made a horrific gargling sound, blood spilling from his mouth and down his chin.
“Paris!” I cried this time, taking hold of him.
No. No. No. No. No.
I lowered him to the floor, cradling his head in my lap. The life left his eyes, his final breath a disgusting rattle.
He went limp.
No. No. No. No. No.
What if death caught this time?
“Oh my,” Elio rasped.
“Come back now,” I said, stroking his hair. I refused to believe this would be his final moment.
Guilt drove nails into me for everything I’d done to hurt him.
My spark…
I wanted to make things better for him, to keep him safe so his bright aura would always shine.
The world needed him. I needed him. And I couldn’t live with the regret of not…of not making him mine.
Goodness. I think…I think I’m falling…falling…
“Wake up,” I pleaded, my eyes burning with sorrow. “Come back to me. Please come back.”
I need you…
I think I’m falli—
The world seemed to skip like a stuck needle on a record. He was no longer in my lap, but gasping for air on the sofa.
I scurried to him, taking him by the face. No wounds, no blood. Only him.
Alive.
“Fuck…” he wheezed. “I died again.”
Overwhelming gratitude flooded my system. “You’re here.”
“Yeah…” he rasped.
I rested my forehead against his. “You’re here.”
His hands found my sides. “And sweetcream.”
I longed to kiss him, to fly him out of here and hide him from that filth forever.
“What do we do now?” Medusa asked gently.
I wanted more minutes like these with Paris, I wasn’t ready to do anything but be in this moment.
“Shall we go straight for Elio’s parents?” Paris asked in a shaky tone. “Fuck the laws.”
We should have done that in the first place. Once again, I’d made a bad decision. All in the name of keeping a low profile, which was now bone ash on the wind.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “This is my fault.”
He kept his hands on me. “Don’t be si—”
“More whining, Silvanus?” Aidan mocked.
I spun to meet him just as he fired a gun at Paris, blowing his skull open.
Brain matter and blood sprayed my face, cold terror seeping into my bones.
“Ooo, what a pretty mess!” Aidan cried, howling with laughter.