Page 148 of Fated In Blood

But I was riding an edge of hunger that had no end. Dimly, on the outskirts of my mind, I understood what this was.

Bloodlust.

But something far more dangerous.

I lifted my head and scented the magic-saturated air, sucking in the sweet, honeyed aroma of Evangeline’s blood. She wasright there. My mate’s thudding heartbeat called me like asiren’s song, her addictive taste still coating the inside of my mouth like ambrosia. I craved her with every ounce of my being.

I wanted to drink until there was nothing left.

My feet left the ground, and a second later, Riordan slammed into my side, knocking me from my trajectory, Evie watching wide-eyed.

“Pull yourself together, you stupid fuck. You fed from Evie and now you’re back in the fight. Malachi bought us a two-minute window to end this and you’re fucking everything up. Get your shit together.”

Cold fear cut through my muddled thoughts enough for me to grasp the gist of what Riordan was saying. We were still in the castle. Still Tyrell’s captives. Malachi was about to break the blood oath, and when he did…

I turned to where Tyrell was slowly crushing Riordan back down to the floor, one inch at a time, my king fighting with everything he had as he stubbornly held my gaze. He’d been shot, stabbed, and beaten tonight and was nearly out of strength.

Evie was vulnerable, too close to Tyrell, barely an arm’s length from Valaine’s body sprawled out on the floor. A tremor went through me. As long as that fucker still had his head, he was a threat.

“Someone had better get moving,” Malachi yelled, throwing a lit candelabra end over end toward Tyrell, who deflected it effortlessly with a whip of red, glowing magic. “Before he gets us all under his control.”

Evie lunged straight toward Malachi. I moved to intercept her, but she ducked and slid across the floor, ripping something free from the back of a chair before disappearing beneath the red-draped table.

When I tried to take another step, I couldn’t, locked in place by Tyrell’s magic. Riordan was down on all fours, and Malachi…he was frozen mid swing, with what looked like a metal spike clenched in one hand, aimed directly at Tyrell’s head.

“General Laurentius Talarius. The Tyrant.” Malachi could barely get the words out. “That’s what they called you, isn’t it? Back when Rome ruled the world? Caine found you on a battlefield in Croatia and offered you a choice. Die or be turned.”

Malachi’s eyes burned with hate. “You accepted,you soulless fuck.”

The absolute vehemence with which Malachi hissed those words made me pause. There was a history between these two, something we’d missed.

Riordan managed to lift his gaze to mine.

What is going on?

“Caine recognized my value.” Tyrell sniffed, but his attention was wholly focused on Malachi now, no longer concerned with the rest of us. “I am powerful, still loyal to Caine’s cause.”

“Not powerful enough for him to make you an Elder.” I had no idea how Malachi was managing to speak around this compulsion, but every word cost him, a stream of blood trickling from his nose. “No, he didn’t value you as much as that.”

“What would you know of it?” Tyrell snapped, sweat beading on his face.

The Ancient was holding three powerful vampires in place, and…the effort was wearing him down. I fought his compulsion harder, feet digging into the floor, legs straining to take one fucking step. Riordan fought every bit as hard, and Malachi…he just wouldn’t shut up.

“You had a sword, a fancy one, given to you by Marcus Aurelius himself. ‘In war, we rise’ was engraved on the blade. An old family motto of yours, or did they just make that up for the ceremony?”

The light in the room slipped away, candles snuffing out as red-tipped shadows crept from every corner, the fire dying downuntil only cracked blackened embers glowed in the grate. Tyrell’s angry magic filled the room in a crushing swell.

“Where is the dagger?” Tyrell lifted his hand, and Malachi rose off the floor, face contorted in pain. “Silas claimed the blade was lost in the fire, buried beneath a mountain of rubble and melted iron, but something tells me that was a lie. The dagger isn’t in the Vault, is it? Where the fuckis that blade?”

Beneath Tyrell’s scream rang an echo of fear.

Malachi only pressed his lips together, my body quaking as I lifted one foot from the floor to steal a single step, every muscle screaming in protest. Riordan was fighting to rise, and thank fucking God, Evie was smart enough to stay beneath the table, her unconscious sister forgotten by the fireplace, half hidden in shadow.

Because the moment Riordan and I broke free, the room would become a bloodbath.

Riordan kept pushing up and up and up, as if lifting an enormous weight on his shoulders, teeth grinding together when he finally straightened, his gaze sliding to mine.Get her out. Whatever happens, get her out.

“None of you are leaving,” Tyrell mocked softly. “Have you learned nothing in all these years? I am immortal. Warded against silver, nightshade?—”

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