Page 33 of My Blood Is Yours

When Evandriel’s laughter finally wanes, he wipes tears from the corners of his eyes. “You’re correct on all counts except for one, girl. I don’t workforForsythe. I workwithhim. As for the rest, your perspective is a little warped.”

He exhales another slow breath of floral-scented smoke before continuing.

“The only people I kidnapped were those preying upon the weak. You might not realize this, considering Forsythe has kept you sequestered away in his house for the entirety of your adulthood, but there are predators that visit this world to seek out unsuspecting human flesh. This world is a buffet for them. And who is there to stop them? A human dressed in a fancy uniform and a tiny little baton?”

Elowen’s jaw hardens as though she can’t quite believe what she’s hearing as he continues.

“The only reason I work with Forsythe is because, despite his unconscionable methods, I believe in his work. You know better than anyone, Elowen, just how fragile humans are. I knew your mother well, Elowen. Spent years trying to convince her to leave London with me, and I loved her more than you’ll ever know.Which is precisely why, now, you’ll be taking me with you, and I won’t take no for an answer.”

Mysoulboundsuddenly looks a worrisome shade of alabaster. Evandriel frowns—an expression that looks strange on his perennially amused features. “And, if you’re trying to surmise whether or not I could be your father, the answer is no. She was already pregnant with you when we met.”

I can smell the salt of her tears just before they swell and spill over the dams of her eyes. Her voice trembles under the weight of the sob trying to work its way up her throat. “I don’t believe you.”

Evandriel takes a deep breath, suddenly looking much older than his thirty-something-year-old appearance—even if he is likely much more than twice that, considering his Seraphi blood. His eyes drop to the necklace at my mate’s throat. “Where my heart belongs. Right beside yours.”

Elowen sucks in a gasp, as she shakes her head. “How dare you. This necklace was a gift to her from my father.”

Like most daemons, I am an empath—able to sense people’s emotions, and even take them on as my own if I’m not careful—and now that I don’t have the palladium collar dampening my magic, the crushing weight of sadness that pours off of Evandriel is enough to have the mirrored emotion swelling in my own chest.

Evandriel studies Elowen for a moment, and I don’t miss the slight glistening in his eyes as he holds her gaze. “Is that really what she told you?”

Elowen is silent, her shock like a bucket of ice water as sudden realization unceremoniously settles itself upon her mind. Evandriel gives her a soft smile as he wills a small parcel into his hand. It’s encased in a silk floral handkerchief. “We would write to each other when I had to go out of town. Whenyou’re done with them, I’d like to have them back, though. It’s all I have from her aside from a ribbon and a lock of her hair.”

As Elowen takes the parcel, Evandriel draws out a gold pocket watch. “Best be going now. Forsythe, as you might have guessed, has the nose of a hound, and he’ll be finishing his classes soon.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “You could have forced anyone to take you back with them. Why only now?”

Evandriel gives me a strange look, as though it should be obvious.

“Because you’re the first daemon I’ve found.”

I frown. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You’re from an after-realm, aren’t you?A realm for the dead?I’m going to find my mate.”

ELOWEN

“… I

’m going to find my mate.”Someone makes a strangled sound, and it takes me a moment to distantly realize that someone is me.

Sariel and Evandriel proceed to have a hurried and heated conversation while all I can manage is not to faint. Dozens of questions whirl in my mind, the most prominent of which is,if my mother is in an after realm… is there a chance I’ll be able to see her again?

It isn’t until I see the flashing of a blade that I’m snapped out of my thoughts. Instinct has me trying to shove Sariel behind me, but I’d have more luck trying to move a boulder. Sariel gifts me an expression that is somehow both warm and admonishing as he presses a kiss to my brow.

“Please don’t ever try to come between me and a blade, love. If I had to choose between your life or mine, I would sacrifice mine without hesitation.”

Evandriel gives us an appreciative smirk before offering the blade—handle first—to Sariel. “It would take a lot more than a blade to fell this beast anyway.”

My heart drops as I watch Sariel take the dagger in hand and swiftly sweep it over his palm. Blood spills, and I shriek in dismay. “Wait, what are you doing?!”

“Can’t have you two love birds running off into the sunset without upholding your end of the bargain, now can I?”

Sariel frowns as though that was exactly what he’d intended to do. Evandriel gives him a knowing smirk. “Right, let’s keep it simple: you will let me use the ring to take us to mysoulboundandthenwherever we wish to go afterwards to make our home. Hopefully, not here?—”

“That’s not how it works,” Sariel interjects. “The ring will only ever take you two places: to yoursoulboundand to the place you call home.”

Evandriel’s brows lift, flicking briefly to the soggy, littered alleyway. “I do not wish to call this place home. And I imagine Ffion will want to be near her daughter. Take us back with you.”

---