Page 38 of Bloody Valentine

My eyes widened, and I held up my hands, backing up to the staircase

“No, please. You can’t do this. Please!” I was on the bottom step, and the barrel of the gun was pushing into my chest. “Please,” I continued to cry.

“I take no pleasure in this. It is simply the way it has to be. You were unfortunate to be born of his blood. Now, you have to give it back. It is called a sacrifice for a reason. We must have balance.”

I balked at him.

“S-Sacrifice?” I tripped as I was shoved up the staircase. “What d-do you mean sacrifice!”

He shook his balding head again and clicked the safety off the gun, pointing it directly at my face.

“Move. Go to the attic and wait for him. You should be honored. I thank you, Vivianna, for you are the chosen. Our bloody valentine.”

My mind was reeling.

Bloody Valentine...leader…Sacrifice…

This couldn’t be real. I sat in the attic. The barren walls felt like my heart, empty and cold.

I knew there were rumors. I heard about the secret cult beneath the university…but it was all just stupid ghost stories. It wasn’t real…was it?

The hunt begins…History repeats itself.

I swallowed, the dots connecting in my mind…the riddles and omens of my ancestor. She was warning me about Maddox. She tried to tell me that I was next. I was…their sacrifice.

I ripped open my dress, pulling it to the side and looking at the blemish still on my flesh—that word.

“Divine.”

Did Maddox mark me that night? Was he claiming me for his fucking cult? Was fucking me preparation for the ceremony?

Little Virgin…sacrifice.

It all made sense now, and I felt sick at everything clicking into place.

“No. No. No,” I said, backing away from the walls.

I couldn’t be sacrificed to some fucking God. Was this for St. Valentine? Was all this about that man entombed forever in a glass coffin? Was I meant to die for those assholes?

Why?

Fate…

The word felt bitter on my tongue. But now I knew what Maddox meant all those times. It was fate that we met, fate that he was assigned to kill me. The doppelganger of St. Valentine set out to kill his lover Vivianna…

History will repeat itself…and my blood wasn’t just tainted. It was doomed.

Chapter thirteen

Imade my way to the church. My head was throbbing in tune with my heartbeat as Demarco gave me a look when he opened the door to the chapel.

“Do you often let your hunts get the best of you, boy?” he scolded. “Why is that woman not bound and prepped for the ritual?”

I ignored him, accepting the cloth in his hand and downing some medication for my head.

“Where is she?” I said, removing the mask and blinking to try to see properly. My vision danced. She clocked me a fucking good one. I was still seeing stars in my view.

“She waits upstairs for you,” he said. I looked at the sawed-off rifle in his grip and laughed.

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