Page 64 of Fated In Blood

“I take no pride in my surname.” I lifted my chin, showing him I wasn’t afraid.Much.

“You shouldn’t.” His voice was the kind of threatening that made every hair on my body stand up, the kind that told me I was about as close to death as I’d ever been. Here, in my apartment, closed off from the rest of the world, nobody would find my body until I started to smell.

“The Silverwoods have been a scourge upon this world as long as vampires have existed.” His lips curled in a surly smile. “In darkness we stand as light.”

My mouth fell open, my heart barely beating.

“That’s your family motto, isn’t it, little slayer? The almighty Silverwoods, the last line of defense against the monsters who hide in the shadows. Good against evil, right against wrong. How easy it must be to imagine yourself on the side of the righteous.”

My dry throat worked to come up with some clever retort, anything to shut him down, but nothing came out. I’d never faced this sort of raw, bone-deep hatred, fury gleaming in his eyes, his face twisted with pain.

“How does it feel, little slayer, to know you’re one of us now? A depraved monster hiding in the darkness?” That horrible smile turned even uglier. “What will your family think when they see what you’ve become? I’ve heard what Silas does to the turned, and I doubt you’ll be spared, especially since you share his last name.”

Blake was a bastard, and he was only trying to hurt me, but he spoke true.

When my family found out Angel and I had been turned, we’d become prey. Because the Silverwood motto Blake quoted so eloquently had a second part, known only to those in the innermost circle of our bloodline.

Our legacy, their end.

In my world—my old world, anyway—there was no such thing as pity or compassion or second chances. Only hunting down our vampire prey to the ends of the earth and eradicating them, until not a single bloodsucker roamed free.

And now I was the quarry, not the hunter.

29

EVANGELINE

Blake measured me up with a scowl, from my beaten-up tennis shoes to my too small, faded t-shirt. “Wow, and I thought my life was pathetic. Thanks for making me feel better, Slayer.”

“Fuck off, loser.” I found a fuchsia tote bag that had once belonged to Angel and stuffed a few more shirts and jeans inside, along with two pairs of underwear and my extra bra. “Your life is way more pathetic than mine. My life is awesome, because in the morning, I am going to kick your fucking ass. Then I’m going to save my sister and get the fuck out of here and never see you again.”

“Don’t forget about killing Tyrell. Kind of an important detail, since your success hinges on him dying.”

“Yes, him, too,” I snapped, glancing around for some small object or trinket, anything, really, that I would miss, only to discover there wasn’t a single thing that mattered to me.

Not here, anyway.

“Now I’m going to Valentine’s and getting my jacket.” I hoisted the garish bag over my shoulder. “I expect you’ll be coming along?”

Blake reached for my arm, and I jerked out of range. “Valentine’s is three blocks away. We’re walking. You so much as try to fly me anywhere and I’ll leave a bloody stump where your hand used to be.”

“Still thinking like a human.” But he curled his fingers back and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Lead the way, Slayer. The sooner we get out of blood bag town and back home, the better.”

“Blood bag town?”

“Thorndale,” he snapped, like the answer was obvious and I was an idiot. “With the college, this town is nothing but a revolving feeding trough for our kind. A bunch of walking, talking blood bags. Always has been, ever since the day the town was first chartered back in 1610.”

Was that why my father had mentioned this place? My memories were vague, at best, but he’d definitely talked about Thorndale, usually with my Uncle Ezra. God, I wished I’d paid more attention to my father’s stories, but I was usually too busy trying to stay away from his fists.

I was the daughter of a vampire slayer. Every time I smelled blood slicked on a steel blade, I thought of home. Not the sort of home where a fire crackled in a warm hearth, but the kind where you hid in the darkest corner and prayed the monsters forgot you existed.

“Anyway, this won’t take long.” I closed the ruined door behind us, since the locks were ripped off, but that couldn’t be helped right now. Since he was probably reading my mind anyway, I kept my thoughts carefully blank about what I planned to do when I came back.

Whenever that might be.

After Tyrell’s imminent death, apparently, which couldn’t come too soon, in my opinion.

“Rohr’s going to have to put a block on your thoughts before you go anywhere near Tyrell,” Blake groused, following me down the steps that led to the street. “Or you’ll get us all killed.”

---