Page 25 of Blood Freed

“What matters is why.” Morgan leans closer, his dark eyes boring into mine. “What game are you playing, vampire? What’s your real agenda?”

I meet his gaze steadily. “No game. No agenda.”

“Everyone has an agenda.” He straightens, adjusting his jacket sleeves. “Especially ancient vampires with broken Maker’s Bonds.”

The constant mention of Maxwell grates like sandpaper on raw nerves. I wonder if Morgan knows how each reference twists the knife or if he’s just throwing everything he can at me to see what draws blood.

“Tell me about the night of the escape,” he demands. “Every detail.”

I’ve been through this a dozen times already. Each retelling feels like walking on broken glass, remembering Mia’s desperation, her trust in me, the way she looked back as she ran.

The memory of her lips on mine just hours ago makes it worse.

But I keep my voice steady. “I was guarding her. I helped her escape. Told her to run. She did.”

“That’s all?” Morgan’s voice is heavy with skepticism.

“That’s all that matters.”

He opens his mouth to press further, but I cut him off. “How many more times do you need to hear it? The story won’t change.”

“I’ll keep going until you tell the truth.” He cocks his head.

I feel my nostrils flare with annoyance but suppress the urge to lash out at him. It would do no good.

“So… You plan to continue this vendetta against Marlowe, do you?”

“Vendetta?” I raise an eyebrow.

“How else would you explain your repeated attempts to implicate him in this?”

“My repeated attempts?” I scoff. “I’ve never mentioned him.”

“No. But Mia Blackwood seems convinced of his involvement. Clearly, you manipulated her into believing this. Of course,” he continues, “the Assembly will want answers about who authorized this operation. Who gave the orders.” His dark eyes fix on me. “Who’s really responsible.”

His words confirm my suspicions. Lucien’s earlier visit, his careful denials, the way he pushed Maxwell – it’s all part of his plan. I’m to be the scapegoat, taking the fall for his entire operation. And Shadowmaster seems to have some insight into this.

“You seem well-informed about vampire politics,” I say carefully.

Morgan’s lips curve in a cold smile. “Let’s just say I have…reliable sources.”

I process this. Could it be that Shadowmaster isn’t just interrogating me? That he’s laying groundwork for Lucien’s version of events? My word against a High Elder’s, with a conveniently broken Maker’s Bond to explain my “betrayal.”

“Interesting,” I keep my voice level. “How a witch knows so much about Assembly business.”

“We all have our connections.” Morgan straightens his jacket. “Though some of us choose our allies more wisely than others.”

“And just who would your allies be, Shadowmaster?” It’s the first time I’ve addressed him so directly.

His jaw clenches. “I am here as the official representative of the High Priestess, Daire. She has chosen to step away from this matter since her objectivity might be in question. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have her full support.”

“How nice,” I say drily. “Can I assume that the High Priestess Moonshadow is related to the traitor, Heath Moonshadow?”

“Our High Priestess is above reproach,” he snaps.

“Unlike Heath,” I sneer. I turn away. “I have answered enough of your questions.”

“Vampire, I will be the one who decides when this is over,” he snarls. The burn in my wrists intensifies. He’s adding his own magic to the pain of my chains. But I don’t give a fuck anymore.

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