Page 89 of Fated In Blood

I’d always thought that particular Silverwood superstition to be utter bullshit, but I had to admit, justthinkingabout setting foot on that mown lawn sent a panicked shiver skittering down my spine.

Would I burst into flames?

Turn into a pillar of ash?

Be able to finally sing in tune? Who knew.

“Hey, Dante. How far is the drive to Missouri, again?” I flattened myself down as my cousin strolled out onto the porch and stretched, arching his back, his belly punching out over his belt. Virgil had put on weight in the twelve years since I’descaped this place. He was no longer the gangly, mischievous mop head who’d raced through these fields alongside me.

I didn’t dare breathe when Uncle Dante joined him, two hundred and fifty pounds of pure muscle and meanness, his boots echoing on the wooden porch as he stomped toward his only son and cuffed him on the back of the head.

“Announce our plans to the whole fucking world, why don’t you?” His raspy snarl brought back all the bad memories. He’d torched his vocal cords the night they’d killed my mother. Dante had taken the brunt of the propane explosion, while my father ordered my cousins to keep Angel and me trapped inside the house while it burned. Just being this close to them planted a hard kernel of hate in my belly, but now wasn’t the time to get tangled up in my own bullshit.

Focus, Evie. Lack of focus leads to failure.

“I wasn’t…” Virgil flinched when Dante lifted his meaty hand again, and I winced right along with Virgil. We’d been trained like soldiers and brainwashed like prisoners, and only after I’d been free of this place a few years did I grasp how damaged I was.

Mom pieced me back together, one shattered fragment at a time. I’d found a sense of accomplishment in keeping her and Angel safe. Had found a few moments of happiness in that house Silas had burned to ash.

But in the end, mom’s kindness hadn’t saved us, and my training hadn’t saved her.

“You never know who might be out there watching, boy. Our enemies are clever and carry the power of darkness in their hands.” Yes, always playing up the pseudo-mystical powers of vampires, although now that I’d experienced them firsthand, maybe Uncle D wasn’t all wrong.

I didn’t dare breathe when Dante’s gaze swept over the darkened fields and the still trees, not even a breeze tickling thehumid, stagnant air. I smelled them with startling clarity, the choking aftershave my uncle was partial to, my cousin’s nervous sweat, the fresh shoe polish they’d just used to buff their boots to a reflective sheen.

“Who’s making all that noise?”That fucking voice.

Every muscle froze at the sound of that voice, some deeply ingrained self-preservation response kicking in. I broke out in a cold sweat, stomach churning, heart racing. Nine fucking years since I’d laid eyes on this bastard, and I couldn’t keep my shit together.

Silas stepped out of the doorway, calm as the day was long, pulling on the gloves he was never without, his gaze slowly picking over the fields and trees surrounding their compound.

“I was telling Virgil to keep his voice down. The little bastard never learns.”

Oh, we’d learned just fine, they just always changed the rules.

“Maybe when we return, a few nights in the hole will remindyour sonof his responsibilities.” Silas’s tone didn’t change, nor his monotone inflection, but I detected glee shivering along every word. Punishing us was his favorite thing, besides killing vampires.

My cousin hung his head, defeated.

I would have done the same. Fighting got you nowhere, and Virgil would need all his fortitude to survive the hole. Even then, he’d emerge a babbling mess.

“Let’s go. We have a seven-hour drive ahead of us. We should be back by Tuesday night, at the latest.” They led a team of heavily armed soldiers toward a fleet of enormous black SUVs, as well appointed as Vincent’s Mercedes, the slamming doors echoing through the night.

When the parade of taillights disappeared, I sagged into the grass.

They’d be gone for days, not hours, and the two most dangerous members—Uncle Dante and Silas—were now out of the picture. I drew a shuddering breath, wondering how I’d gotten so lucky.

Yet, the longer I watched the house, old fears surged up to the surface, like I was ten years old again. After all this time, I thought I’d worked through my fucking baggage when it came to that evil bastard, but nothing had changed when it came to Silas Silverwood.

But things had changed at White Chapel.

Along with the familiar faces of my cousins were plenty of new ones. Scarred and battle hardened, these men reminded me more of my father than anyone else, keen eyes scanning every blade of grass, automatic weapons locked and loaded.

Uncle Ez had grown more cautious, running extra patrols, overlapping the shifts, and giving little opportunity for an opening.

Even so, I stayed until dawn, noting the timing and length of every shift and the number of dogs patrolling the grounds, calculating and recalculating my chance of success before the sky lightened enough for me to give up and head back to the motel.

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