Page 116 of Fated In Blood

“What about your father?” I hovered close enough to feel the heat coming off her, but didn’t touch her, no matter how much I wanted to. “What did he do?”

“My father was in charge of torture,” she said flatly, and every muscle in my body went taut at that hushed, halting tone.

Vampires were a cruel, bloodthirsty species, prone to hurting each other just for fun, and I’d heard that strained inflection in too many survivors’ voices, too many times not to understand the suffering behind it.

“And he was averygood instructor. Very thorough.” Evie rubbed her wrist like she was reliving some past pain, and that cold, dark anger raised its head once more.

“Silas taught me, with painstaking care, how to cause maximum pain to a target with minimal effort. I hated the evil things he’d shown me, hated that I’d put some of his lessons into practice when I was searching for my sister’s kidnapper. Hated that…” She stopped, eyes clearing, like she’d forgotten where she was.

“Tell us what you know about the dagger, Evie?” Riordan asked gently, as if he knew where she’d gone in her head and had the decency to pull her back out.

“The dagger has an iron infused core, encased in gold, which is encased in silver,” she recited, as if she’d spent years memorizing the information. “According to legend, the blade was made in Rome, in the forge of a very famous smith known for his metalworking skills by the name of Gaius Faber. He was working during the reign of Marcus Aurelius.”

Her eyes flicked up to mine. “Yeah,thatone.” She carefully picked a leaf from the velvet.

“The dagger was made specifically for some Roman general named Laurentius Talarius and presented to him at a ceremony in front of the Coliseum after his final campaign. When General Talarius disappeared after Rome fell, the dagger was lost for a thousand years.”

“Somehow it ended up in my ancestors’ possession by ‘a divine act of God,’ according to family legend. I used to pester Uncle Dante for more details, but he always cautioned me not to question destiny.

“As far as how the blade works…back around 1300, when the Silverwoods first began hunting…vampires…they were in league with a coven of powerful witches. The dagger is infused with a corruption spell. Anything organic the blade pierces will die, so long as that’s the intention of whoever wields this weapon.”

“So intention paired with magic makes this dangerous?” I asked.

“According to my uncle, the bearer has to manifest their purpose, and only then will the blade carry out their will.”

She paused, staring so steadily at Riordan unease trickled down my spine. “And that’s where your clever plan falls apart, Your Highness. I can’t be the one to cause the distraction, because Malachi can’t wield this blade.”

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“I’m sorry.” Evangaline shook her head. “The spell is keyed to Silverwood blood. Only I can wield the Harpe, because only I can activate the magic inside. In your hands…it’s just a knife. You could do some damage, I suppose, but if Tyrell’s as powerful as you say, this weapon wouldn’t kill him, it would barely scratch his skin.”

“Fuck.” Riordan shot to his feet. “There’s no way you’ll ever get in the same room as Tyrell, much less close enough to stab him.”

The sense of relief I felt at that statement nearly took me out at the knees.Good.I didn’t want Evie anywhere near Tyrell.

“All I know about the dagger is theory. I’ve never wielded it, never tried to access the magic.” She reached up and rubbed her back, where the tracking mark had been branded into her skin. “Given what happened when I accessed the Vault, I don’t hold out a lot of hope I’d be successful, anyway.”

“We need a new plan,” Rohr hissed. “And we don’t have time to come up with anything complicated.”

I rubbed my chest, where that dull aching knot of pain throbbed and throbbed, a kernel of realization growing sharper as I pondered the possibility…Riordan was right.

ButIwas supposed to be the strategist here.

Iwas supposed to stay ten steps ahead of Malachi and Tyrell.

Iwas supposed to keep Riordan alive so he could rebuild the kingdom his sire had let crumble.

And I was failing miserably at everything.

“You’re sure only you can wield the blade? You’re sure?” I asked, trying to get my head back in the game. We’d pinned all our hopes on that weapon, ever since we’d heard it was a foolproof means of delivering true death to even the oldest vampire.

The rumors had seemed too good to be true, and they were. Here the blade was, right in front of us. And we couldn’t touch the goddamned thing.

“We need a new plan,” Riordan decided quickly. “But you’re not getting anywhere close to that monster.”

“I can hold my own,” she said stiffly.

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