Page 66 of Blood Match

Marcus stares at me, his expression shifting from surprise to something I can’t quite read. He’s silent for a long moment, his gaze intense. “Darick,” he finally says, his voice serious. “Do you realize what this means?”

I shake my head, confused by his reaction. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s because this…Rowan is your blood match,” Marcus says, his words hitting me like a physical blow.

“My blood match?” I repeat, stunned.

“Yes.” He’s so certain. “Precisely.”

“But that’s…that’s impossible.” It seems too…easy.

“Why?” he asks. “You have the Bloodbane, and you’ve found your match.”

“But it’s supposed to take years.” I’m bewildered.

“Who says so? There’s no law that says you have to pick through hundreds of witches until you find the one. You’ve found her. She’s it.”

“Fuck,” I say feebly. Part of me has refused to see it. Refused to hope. But now, it’s sinking in. “She’s my match…”

Marcus nods slowly. “It probably explains the psychic connection, too. I don’t know much about these things, but it wouldn’t surprise me if that sort of shit happened.” He pauses. “Darick, this is…significant.”

I rub a hand over my face, my mind reeling.

My blood match.

The implications are staggering. Every vampire with the Bane spends a lifetime looking for their match. And to think that I’ve been talking to mine all along…

“This is fucking impossible,” I mutter.

“Not impossible. Fucking miraculous, Darick. And now that you’ve found her, you have to keep her close. She’ll be your source.” Marcus’s face is alight with enthusiasm. Obviously, he doesn’t see the catch here. How could he? He doesn’t know the whole story.

I stare at Marcus, disbelief etched on my face. “Are you seriously suggesting I keep her as some sort of…blood bank?”

Marcus shrugs, his expression still bright. “It’s a solution, Darick. You need her blood to thrive, and it would solve our Lucien problem.”

“No,” I growl, rising from my chair. “Absolutely not. I won’t force her into anything.”

“Who said anything about force?” Marcus raises an eyebrow. “You convince her. There are ways to make it appealing, you know. Plus, it’s not unprecedented. How do you think the others do it?”

I have no idea. I never thought this far ahead. I’ve always just thought that there are those with the Bane, and then us. Except, I’m not “us” anymore. It’s time I started to accept this.

I shake my head. “You don’t understand. She hates me, Marcus. She’d never agree to it.”

“How can you be so sure?”

The memory of our last encounter flashes through my mind. The fury in her eyes, the raw power of that sunflare she hit me with. “Trust me, I know.”

I can still feel the searing heat of her magic, the way it had knocked me off my feet. It wasn’t just the power of the spell that had stunned me, but the depth of emotion behind it. There was no mistaking the loathing in her eyes.

“Women are fickle. Maybe you got it wrong.” He shrugs.

“She hit me with a sunflare, Marcus. A fucking sunflare. Do you have any idea how much magic that takes? How much hatred you need to fuel something like that?” Harnessing the power of the sun is no small feat.

Marcus whistles low. “Damn. Okay, I see your point.”

“It’s never going to happen,” I say firmly. “We need to find another way to deal with Lucien.”

Marcus sinks into a seat across from me, sinking back into it. “Well, we’re gonna have to think long and hard. Because without this girl’s blood, you’re going to get weaker every day. And all the while, you’re trying to play tic-tac-toe with the grand high master of subterfuge.”

---