Page 16 of Mostly Shattered

I turn to make my hasty exit and instantly crash into Costin’s chest. He passed by me without me seeing him move. Before I can stumble away, he has me gripped by the arms. His fingersdig into my flesh. He lifts me off the floor like I’m no heavier than a throw pillow and lets my feet dangle. Leaning close, his swirling eyes demand attention. I want to kick him to free myself, but I can’t force my legs to move.

“Do you think this is what I want to be doing? Do you think I want to be here?” There is a gravelly darkness to his voice that I haven’t heard before. It strikes fear into me, and all I can do is shake my head in denial. “You don’t like me. Fine. I’m not a fan of partnering with humans. A promise is a promise. Prophecy is destiny. I owe a debt, and I will repay it, and you will do your part.”

I hang, helpless.

“Do you understand?” he enunciates.

I nod.

“Good. We’ll continue this later.”

He lowers me to the ground. The chill of his hands remains on my arms when he lets go. My heart pounds. I wonder if he can hear it. Every piece of me focuses on him. I open my mouth to speak, but he stops me.

“Mortimer,” Costin states.

I frown. Not following his meaning.

Costin steps aside and reveals my uncle approaching behind him.

“Constantine.” Uncle Mortimer’s voice sounds jovial, but I recognize the forced tone he puts on forguests. His skin has a sickly pallor, and there are darkened half-circles under his eyes. Still, he is immaculately dressed in an Italian suit. The cut is a little more modern than I’m used to seeing him in. “I didn’t know you were expected.”

“I’m not. I came to speak with Tamara.” Costin stands beside me. His arm brushes mine.

Mortimer looks surprised, but it’s nothing compared to what I feel when Costin takes my hand in his. His cool fingers wrap around mine and hold tight. What’s more surprising is that it sends a shiver up my arm and is not entirely unpleasant. I try to jerk away, not wanting to feel the sensation. The only explanation for it is that Costin is planting subconscious thoughts that are not my own.

Fucking vampires.

Chapter

Four

Devine Country Estate, Sixteen Years Ago…

Pain makes it difficult to breathe, but that doesn’t stop me from trying to grunt for help. After twelve years on this Earth, I know what monsters are capable of, and I do not want to be caught helpless and broken in the middle of the night, lying in the driveway like a rag doll.

And yet, here I am.

I hear the stomp of demonic horses as the animals pull against their tethers. They smell my blood, and it stirs them. I imagine it reminds them of home, of the tortures of the netherworld.

Music comes from inside my family’s country house, muffled by stone and glass. It’s the soundtrack of my life—music from a party I’m notinvited to attend. I see flashes of magical light, like warning shots from another universe.

I never asked for this life or to be born mortal and weak. I can’t fight monsters. I’m just a girl.

I don’t want to die.

The smell of my blood will awaken the worst in my parents’ friends. There is one rule I must always follow—don’t leave the protected wing of the house when the supernaturals are visiting. This driveway is not protected.

I look up the side of the estate to the upper balcony from where I fell. One of Anthony’s friends sold Conrad flying dust, but it didn’t work. I dropped like a stone.

Conrad was supposed to jump with me, but he’s gone. He’s left me alone to fend for myself.

I draw a ragged breath, trying to control the fear.

Who will find me first?

“Hello there, little castoff.” A shadow falls over me as the vampire Constantine leans to block the view of the empty balcony. He told me he likes to be called Costin.

Why do women think these pasty monsters are beautiful? I see it all the time in books and movies and on the internet. They’re drawn to the idea of darkness and power, of immortality, but I don’t think the reality would live up to the fantasies.Vampires are manipulative, savage killers. There is nothing beautiful about that.

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