Page 77 of The Veil of Blood and Magic

My primal needs are fueled by hurt and rage and guilt and grief, swirling together as I drink and drink and drink until his hands go limp and his eyes go lifeless.

I draw back quickly, stumbling across the room until my back slams into the door a few feet away from his lifeless body. His blood and mine pool together along the floor.

I cry and tuck my knees up to my chest in an attempt to become as small as I possibly can.

He was going to kill me. He was actually going to kill me. My Linked.

A commotion sounds beneath me, collector core yelling as they knock down the door of the tavern.

I don't waste time. The last thing I need is for them to find that I’ve drained someone, let alone discover what I really am.

I'm dressed in seconds, throwing my satchel over my chest as I spare one last look at Ingle’s body on the floor.

Guilt threatens to buckle my knees, but I lock it up, knowing that it was either me or him.

I jump through the window, slamming onto the ground a few feet below me. The feeling of loneliness threatens to swallow me whole. If my Linked is willing to kill me for what I am, then there truly is no one I’ll ever be able to be myself with. No one I’ll ever be able to confide in.

I can never show anybody who I really am, and I'll never be able to Link again.

I’m alone.

Utterly, pathetically alone.

The thought echoes in my heart over and over as I disappear into the night…

The sound of steel scraping against stone jerks me out of the nightmare, one I've had more times than I can count in the past decade. I can barely open my eyes, my limbs feeling weak and heavy, my head aching like an axe has been lodged into it.

The ground beneath me is cold and damp and beyond the sound of the steel, I can hear rushing water in the distance.

My memory knits its itself back together, flashes of the opposing drifter group, being captured and tortured, and then the Banachs almost killing Zev and Jagger, the power I'd used to stop them?—

My eyes snap open, and I clamber to my feet, taking stock of my surroundings. A small relief at the sight of Zev and Jagger washes over me. At least I’m not in some dungeon in the Collector’s Keep.

From one heartbeat to the next, I spot Zev sharpening his massive long sword, no doubt wanting it to be a clean kill when he removes my head from my shoulders.

Jagger is across what I can only tell is a cave, sitting on the other side of a fire. He rises to stand with his hands up, his eyes wide. I look behind Zev, where I can see the opening of the cave.

I barely have the strength to stand, my muscles still trembling from my earlier torture, the silver, and the overuse of my own power, but I have to try.

I have to run.

Zev holds a sharpening stone in one hand and the hilt of his sword in the other, looking at me with concern in his eyes, the flames of the fire reflected in that golden gaze.

I bolt toward the exit of the cave, drawing on what little speed I can muster.

“No! Wait!” Jagger calls from behind me.

I don't bother looking back, only forward at that exit. I'll figure out where they've taken me after I get free. I will not die by their hands. I will not die until I finish what I've sought out to do.

I hear something clatter behind me, and then Zev slams into me so hard we both tumble to the ground, him rolling until he's on top of me.

Tears are instantly in my eyes, the exhaustion not allowing me to hold my emotions in check. I struggle against his massive weight, but I’m no match for him in my weakened state.

“We're not going to hurt you,” Jagger says, rushing to Zev’s side.

The memory of Ingle’s betrayed and angry face flashes before my eyes. This time I'm not going to have the strength to defend myself. I'm going to die on this cave floor just because of the blood that runs through my veins, and the Collector will go on ruling and living and harming innocent creatures .

“We're not going to hurt you,” Jagger says again as I continue to fight against Zev’s hold.

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