Page 18 of Fated In Blood

I might be the king of this kingdom, but Laurent Tyrell ruled us all with an iron fist. An Ancient with the full power of the High Council behind him, completely untouchable, no matter how heinous his crimes.

Tyrell disappeared from his perch above and materialized directly in front of Blake and I, his serpentine smile widening as he lifted his hand, indicating we follow him. “My king. The public blood auction is a bit too…ordinary for your taste. I have something special planned for you and your friend. A treat I went to a great deal of trouble to procure, but one I believe you will both enjoy. Please follow Bosch, if you would be so kind.”

From his burns, the bastard must have been close to the blast. Half his face was scorched off, his clothing in shreds, and I only wished he would have been closer. Anyone who chose to serve a monster deserved everything they got.

Bosch led us up a back staircase into the private wing of the castle. Which, except for the faint vestiges of C-4 and smoke, was untouched by the earlier havoc.

Blake’s nostrils flared, clearly scenting the same thing I was. He turned and met my gaze.That explosion was clearly an act of aggression.

I know. And Tyrell doesn’t seem too torn up we’re under attack.

“What the fuck did he mean he went to a great deal of trouble to procure a treat for us?” Blake muttered once we were shut into the room—Tyrell’s private library, from the shelves of books lining every wall. “I don’t like this, Rohr. He’s keeping us prisoner for one of his twisted games.”

Blake was right, but one of us had to keep our head clear.

Dawn was seven hours away. The last time Blake and I were trapped here…Yeah, going down that fucking rabbit hole would do neither of us any good.

He kept toying with that goddamned ring on the chain as he prowled around the room, dragging the tiny gold band back and forth, shadows curling furiously as I waited for the inevitable explosion. Finally, Blake stopped, hefted a crystal globe in one hand, and stared over at me. “Is Tyrell making a play for the throne?”

“I don’t see why he would,” I murmured. “He doesn’t need a crown, not when he already owns the kingdom.” I paused in front of an enormous portrait, Laurent and some beautiful blond with one of the most stunning faces I’d ever seen, Darkmore Castle in the background, both of them dressed in eighteenth-century clothing. “If Spencer was still alive, he’d have an heir to put in my place, but he doesn’t, so I don’t see the point of staging a coup tonight, of all nights.”

No, this was a different game. Something more dangerous than an outright attack on my power. Tyrell was known for manythings, but his patience was legendary. And Blake and I had certainly earned his vengeance.

I leaned closer, inhaling the scent of oil paint, shellac, and pigments.

This painting was only a few months old, and I frowned. The female was familiar, though, as if I’d seen her before. “Blake. Do you know who this is?”

“Not a fucking clue.” He gave me a pointed stare. “What if this has to do with my sister? We always knew that night would come back to haunt us.”

“No. Tyrell won that round and the High Council punished us both. This doesn’t have anything to do with Cassmira,” I spat bitterly. “This is something else.”

“But what?” he asked, shuddering. “I should have burned this whole fucking place to the ground that night.” He added softly, “Tyrell included.”

“Weshould have burned everything down, Blake.” Bile rose in my throat at how badly we’d failed that night. “But we didn’t, and Tyrell has had us by the balls ever since. Well, him and the fucking High Council.”

Blake’s life had hung in the balance, and I’d been backed into a corner by the most powerful faction in our world, and I would have made any deal—including a bad one—to keep my friend alive.

Blake tapped a finger on the ornate desk, peering at me beneath his brow. “I heard a rumor a few days ago but didn't say anything because I couldn’t confirm it was true. But the information comes from my most reliable contact in London.” He scratched his jaw, one of his few tells, a clear enough sign he was nervous.

“My contact said the entire High Council’s gone.”

I froze. “Gone? Like assassinated?”

“Just…gone.Vanished. No details, nothing except that. If the council is no more, they wouldn’t want the information made public. But I did some poking around my European underworld contacts yesterday and everyone’s tight-lipped, which only gave the rumor more weight.”

“If Tyrell doesn’t answer to the council, if they aren’t acting as judge, jury, and executioner…”

“Laurent Tyrell can do anything he wants.” Blake echoed my thoughts. “If you think he’s a monster now, just think what he can become with no oversight, no repercussions for his depravities.”

“We have to get out of this castle. Right the fuck now.”

Blake’s eyes brightened. “Yes, Your Highness, we do.”

11

EVANGELINE

Ibarely managed one strike before Bosch overpowered me, his grip so unforgiving my bones ground together. I ignored the lash of pain, bringing my other arm up to land a punch, but he knocked my fist away.

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