Page 153 of Fated In Blood

One glance told me Riordan was—possibly—considering it. I grit my teeth, barely believing I was making this choice. “You can’t leave him here. He did help us. We owe him.”

“We don’t owe him shit.” Blake shook his head, “I’m still torching this fucking place. So he’d better start healing. And fast.”

Malachi couldn’t move, but his eyes changed. They grew brighter, cagier, and right then, I saw this was another trap. Not as deadly as Tyrell’s, but a trap I wouldn’t escape.

“I can’t, I’m too weak. I need to feed.” His calculating eyes landed on me with the weight of a thousand mistakes. “I’m calling in my favor. I want to feed from Evangeline.”

“Fuck no, she?—”

Riordan lifted a hand and Blake went silent. Power rippled through the room, hitting me in the solar plexus like a physical blow. My head emptied out.

Iwantedto bow before Riordan.

Iwantedto obey.

I ached to worship at his feet, supplicating myself before him. Angel sucked in a quick, frightened breath, and Riordan’s answering smile sent a spear of fear through my heart.

Cold and calculating, nearly matching the spark in Malachi’s cunning gaze.

“Once, and never again, and only if she consents.” Riordan’s smile grew icier. “No mind games, no compulsion, or I’ll kill you where you lie.”

Blake glared at his friend like he wanted to throttle him.

“In case there are any doubts, Tyrell’s power went to me. I am the Nocturne King by blood and right, and my word is law.” He dipped his head to me. “If you want to save him, it’s your choice, Silver. Or not, that is your choice as well.” His smile was terrifyingly knowing. “I expect you can add to your count, if you choose the latter.”

Malachi looked worried now, but Riordan knew me far too well.

He’d given me a choice that really wasn’t a choice at all. If I allowed Malachi to die, that choice would haunt me for a long time. Better to save him and have no regrets.

I walked over, offering Malachi my good wrist. “One time and never again, and only because you saved us tonight when the other choice must have been tempting.”

“You have no idea,” Malachi murmured, but his pupils dilated when he locked on my upturned wrist, my blue veins running beneath pale white skin.

“My blood’s addictive,” I reminded him. “Won’t it hurt you?”

“That’s my problem to worry about, Vicious, not yours.”

“Don’t you fucking hurt her, you bastard,” Blake snarled.

“Please.” Malachi somehow managed to peer down his nose, even though he was lying on the floor in a twisted heap. “Skip thelecture. I’ve been doing this ten times as long as you, Marten.” A fire ignited in his eyes when I stepped closer, his tongue rimming his bottom lip in anticipation.

“I can be gentle. When I want to be.”

Since he couldn’t move, I pressed my wrist to his mouth. True to his word, his fangs slid in painlessly, warm lips sealed to my flesh with all the fervor of a dying male, gaze locking on mine.

He drank deeply, never breaking our stare. Neither did I, telling myself I needed to win this battle of wills, and not because the ring around his irises looked like living flames, or how good he smelled right now, as I got caught up in the memory of how delicious he’d tasted.

After he tricked me.

And just like that I yanked my wrist away, splattering blood across Malachi’s perfectly chiseled cheek, droplets glistening in his pale hair like rubies.

He was the enemy, and I would be a fool to ever trust him.

59

EVANGELINE

Aweek later, I blew out a resigned breath, praying for the strength to make it through today.

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