Page 78 of Inevitably Yves

A wave of resilience and confidence washes over me, and I straighten my shoulders. “Tonight, we will be tested, but have faith in our connection.”

With that, I exhale slowly.

“Thorn. Open the doors please. We have company.”

TWENTY-SEVEN

Damiano

“What the Hades was in that potion?” I ask, moving beside Yves as we wait for the doors to open. “I feel renewed.”

Yves nods, smiling at me. “My guess is fate was waiting for us to catch on, and now that we have, we are exactly that. Renewed.”

“I’m not afraid of him anymore.”

“No,” Yves says. “We have nothing to fear now. Can you feel my brothers too?”

“Yes. Everything. It’s like it was when we were newly turned.”

He nods, glancing around at the people in this room. “Yes. What do you think he looks like now?”

“I hope he’s as ugly as his heart.”

“Truly repulsive then?”

“Yes.”

Heavy footsteps reach us first, running through the night, until a figure appears in the darkness, heading straight for us. The brothers tense, but the person’s identity becomes clear quickly enough. It’s Paolo.

Yves steps forward to greet him, but something is off about the vampire. I grab Yves’s arm to hold him back, just in time to avoid the silver dagger clenched in Paolo’s fist.

Syn swoops in and grabs Paolo by the neck, slamming him against the wall. “What the fuck, man.”

“Cillian,” Paolo says, his eyes cloudy and unseeing as he stabs at the air. “Cillian,” he repeats.

“Paolo,” Yves says, drawing the vampire’s attention. “I’m here. What do you want with me?”

“Kill, Cillian,” Paolo says. “Number One die.”

“He’s one of those zombie things,” Midnight says, studying the vampire, who hisses.

“Should we kill him?” Thorn asks. “Is that the only way?”

“We brought Hemsley back,” Yves says. “Let me try that.”

“You’re not getting anywhere near him, love. Can someone get us a glass?”

“On it,” Eros says, returning in a flash with a dusty cocktail glass.

“I’ll take it to him,” I say, handing the glass to Yves.

Yves opens his vein, but when he does, Paolo goes wild, thrashing and hissing, but Syn doesn’t seem to have any trouble holding him back.

I walk the glass closer to the struggling vampire, noting how he reacts to its presence. “You’re gonna drink this, Paolo.”

“Die,” he mumbles. “Number Two die.”

“Not tonight, my man,” I say, before gripping his chin and forcing the liquid into his mouth.

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