Page 115 of Fated In Blood

“The two of you, so quick to assume I’d stab you in the back the first chance I got. I’m tired of proving myself to everyone.I don’t care what you believe. In fact, believe the worst if that helps you sleep at night.”

“What happened, then?” I demanded, guilt and jealousy and hurt warring inside me. “Why did you feed from him?Why?”

“Because I was starving, Blake. Because I thought I was fucking dying. Because I hadn’t fed in days and I couldn’t think around my own hunger. Are those enough reasons for you?”

She advanced me, hands clenched into fists. “Do you think itmeant something? Well, it fucking didn’t. And Riordan doesn’t mean anything to me, either.”

Her finger poked me in the center of my chest. “I would have fucking chosen you, but you left me lying in a fucking entryway, half naked, and called me your enemy, so you weren’t a fucking option. Does that make you feel better?”

My entire body relaxed.

I’d been so desperate to hear her denial. Needed to hear her say the words so they were etched on my heart. That she wanted me, trusted me.

Not Riordan, not fucking Malachi.Me.

But…

Some of the rage ebbed from my chaotic mind.Iwas the one who’d ruined everything between us.Iwas responsible for my aching heart, for the tears shimmering in Evie’s eyes…

Iwas the reason for everything.

And I was the only one who could fix this.

“That’s enough, Blake.” I flinched when Riordan’s cold, authoritative tone took on a cutting edge I’d never heard before. “You’ve never fallen for Malachi’s games before, why are you letting the bastard get you all twisted up now?”

“Fuck you, Riordan.” But some dark corner of my mind paused, knowing he had a point.

“Think, you jealous bastard. This is what Malachi Dravendoes. He destroys alliances from the inside out, like he’s tearingTyrell’s operation apart as we speak. You and I have to be smart, and we have to stick together, like we always have.”

He paused as if debating his next words. “Evangeline didn’t betray you; she’s not part of some conspiracy. Draven is an opportunistic bastard who took advantage of her hunger to force her into a life debt.”

“What the fuck?” I spun to face her, jealousy forgotten in the face of Malachi’s new crime. “What did that bastard do to you?”

“I didn’t know who he was,” she admitted quietly. “I just…I wasstarving. I was hurt. He fed me a…little of his blood and I was so hungry I couldn’t stop. I wanted more. He said I hadn’t transitioned yet, that I was dying, that only drinking from him could save me.”

She chewed her lip, eyes full of doubt. “He tricked me, didn’t he? I wasn’t really dying?”

That fucking bastard. Jealousy turned to rage, the cold, dark kind that I’d gotten familiar with after losing my family. What the fuck was I doing? Rohr was right. I’d been played.

That, and the mating bond was fucking with my emotions.

She sighed and squared her shoulders. “Whether I would have died or not, whether Malachi lied or not, doesn’t matter now. I fed from him. He said I owed him; I told him to fuck right off. He threatened to take his blood back, then Riordan showed up.”

“A life debt?”I was going to kill him for sure now. “Thatfucker.”

“I don’t owe Malachi shit,” Evangeline muttered at the same time Riordan hissed, “See? This is only another one of his games.”

“I never saw Malachi Draven before today.” Every clearly enunciated word stabbed me in the chest, my jealousy ebbing away. “I don’t know how he found my motel room, but it wasn’tmy fault he followed me to White Chapel. I covered my tracks so well, even you had a hard time finding me. You said so yourself.”

“Stop wasting time on Malachi. Back to Tyrell.” Riordan was getting exasperated, and I could hardly blame him. “We have two days before Malachi breaks the bond, and once that’s done, Blake and I are as good as dead.” He sat down opposite Evangeline, hands on his knees, his eyes on the dagger between them.

“How does the dagger work?”

I drifted closer, curious, as Evie pulled the velvet bag closer, a hint of fear on her face. “The metal is infused with old magic and is said to be our greatest weapon. I’ve never wielded the blade myself, but all our family histories mention the Harpe Dagger. One of my uncle’s used to call it the Scythe of Cronus as a joke, but…”

“Which uncle?” I asked softly.

“Dante. He taught us strategy and history, like where the dagger came from. Alistair was hand-to-hand and weapons training. Ezra took care of security, though after today, my father will probably demote him to latrine duty.” Her lips quirked.

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