Page 110 of The Cruelest Undead

Oh, it was only a little bit of it, but with Aoibheann in his control, Jacques knew he had the upper hand.

This game was far from being hers to win.

Bet.

On.

That.

It was time to play and set the stage for what he knew was going to be heartbreak. Only, he didn’t know if he was going to be able to stop it.

Maybe he could bend fate, and he could find a way, but until he did, they were on a collision course with him having to take a life.

A precious one.

In the Book of the Dead, Lilith, Rinnon’s child, was scheduled to die. Fate had put her in the book, and he was helpless to stop it.

The bitch was playing by the rules on this one, knowing he couldn’t interfere.

What he’d been doing the last few hours while the family worked on this mess, was he’d found a spell that would help them contain this shitshow—for now.

It was temporary, but it would buy them twenty-four hours of time where they could then find Mathew and handle him. What they needed was any simple advantage that Fate didn’t see coming.

He was going off script and doing whatever he could to keep her guessing.

Come into his mind and steal what wasn’t hers?

Well, two could play that game.

While he could feel the fabric of time fraying with both of them interfering, he didn’t have a choice. He had to save the life that was slotted to die.

He wasn’t losing Jolie or Flynn to this creature’s game, and if Rinnon lost his child, there would be hell to pay.

Mark.

His.

Words.

As Fate entered his realm, the creatures that were loyal to him warned him that she approached. The place was alive with small things that she believed to be insignificant.

They weren’t.

They were his greatest allies, and now, for his amusement, it was time to have some fun.

She tainted him and was in his mind, and that wasn’t ever happening again.

Even though he and Jolie were not happy with each other, it didn’t mean that he wouldn’t fight to the end of time to keep her safe.

She.

Was.

His.

As she walked through the wall, like she owned the place, Fate looked around in disgust.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Death, or shall we call you‘he who slums with the detestables’?”

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