Page 101 of Chain Me
“Who is Mero?” My lips felt dry. I had to drag my tongue along the bottom one.
“Mero?” Dmitri laughed. “That’s the wrong question, my dear. The rather boring history between him and Dublin doesn’t matter. Not a bit. What you really should be asking is where doyou,and your child,fit into the grand scheme?”
“M-Me?” But I was well aware of my role—I was a liability to Dublin. A burden he had gone out of his way to bear. His pawn requiring protection.
“Oh, but that’s where you are wrong,” Dmitri claimed as if reading my mind. “You need to go deeper than that. Right to the beginning. Ask yourself, do you know why only Dublin could feed from you, though I am well aware that is no longer the case? Why is it blood that sustains your current condition, as if to mock his very nature?”
My eyebrow rose. “How did you—”
“Rumors,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Answer the question.”
I shrugged; the answer didn’t seem to have the makings of a trap. “He said his venom made it so that only he could—”
“Thatis what he told you?” Barking out a harsh bit of laughter, Dmitri slapped his hand against his knee. “You can’t fault the man for creativity, though I suppose it is true in some sense. But really, Eleanor, use that critical mind of yours. Go deeper than that. What happened when another vampire fed on you? Someone other than Dublin?”
Someone like Raphael.
My throat went dry. “I…” Even as my voice failed, I knew that my horrified expression revealed the truth. I died.
“Dublin has never offered to turn another mortal,” Dmitri murmured, his tone suddenly serious. “Never. Not once. Not even in his most…shall we say, hisheydayas a man who made Raphael quake in his cape.” He smirked at the memory. “I think, all along, you’ve already suspected as much,” he added knowingly. “The real catalyst for your pregnancy. The blood you require, though you remain mortal still. Mero, I suspect, had counted on him breaking his one rule all along. Foryou. But it’s corrupted you far beyond what poor Dublin intended. While not a vampire, you are…changed.”
He eyed my belly. “You just haven’t bothered to admit it to yourself. You know there’s more to it, and I will tell you what—it is your bloodline. You Grays have been cursed for centuries. Everyone knows it. Especially Dublin. Before you, he has spent years ensuring that none dared feed from any of your kind. Did you know that? It’s why the Grayne still exist—he lets them thrive, purely out of courtesy to Mero, the dear friend he betrayed.”
“How?” I whispered. “How did he betray him?”
He waved his hand dismissively. “Oh darling, I’m sure you saw my beautiful opera. You are no fool.”
I tried to picture the morbid performance and its grisly themes. A man had escaped those in his faction, only to have everything he’d fought for ripped away by someone he trusted.
“Mero was the first to crave another life,” Dmitri said as though settling in for a long tale. “A different life from the hell he’d consigned his soul to. I suppose ruling hand in hand with the ruthless Cael took its toll. Rather than trade in lives, he wanted tolive. And he craved it so badly he found a cunning little witch talented enough to give him and his mortal lover the life he so desired. There were a few caveats, of course.”
He lifted his hands in a makeshift scale, raising one while lowering the other. “A terrible price would be paid by both parties involved. I assume they considered it a worthy sacrifice however, in exchange for an abomination in every sense of the word. But then what happened, my dear?” He chuckled darkly when I flinched. “Come on. Continue the tale.”
As he had taunted, his opera revealed the answer. The villain of the story had slaughtered a woman and her unborn child in the name of duty.
“Dublin killed her,” I choked out in a whisper. “The woman. Didn’t he?”
God, I wanted him to laugh, proving I’d been wrong.
“Yes,” he said instead, displaying his fangs in full. “And in his grief, Mero founded the Grayne, utilizing your dear ancestor in the process. At his behest, his witch cursed your entire bloodline, though some might say ‘protected.’” He scoffed. “Serving within the Grayne was a mere small part of the deal your ancestor made. Mero would protect every Gray to follow, just as long as a few descendants contributed to his lunatic cause. For years, he has maintained that bargain, always watching from the shadows. And in guilt, Dublin has kept even Raphael from destroying them. Though now I have to wonder if perhaps his motive all along wasfear?”
He searched my face for any reaction. In the end, he sighed. “What better way to punish the man who stole everything you desired than to ensure that he too one day will dare to crave the same simple, honestly boring, wish?Love.A family. A reason to endure these wretched, lonely years. And then, were you such a man, you would get to rip it all away.”
Pausing his story, Dmitri waited, as if expecting me to realize something. Tofeelsomething. I just felt numb.
“I see I may have to spell it out for you, dear.” He inhaled sharply. “Dublin’s always known that one of your kind might set Mero’s devious revenge into motion, I suppose. And now…” He gestured toward my stomach. “Have you wondered why he has accepted your condition so easily? It isn’t usual—I can tell you that. Or why he hasn’t killed you, despite the obvious danger you pose? Why he can’t even bear to face the truth by telling you the very things that I am now? Or why theonesoul you care for more than him perhaps has vanished and he hasn’t even offered to help you find her?” He leaned forward, and almost in a whisper, he declared, “You are his doom, Eleanor Gray. Always have been. Always will be.”
He stood and stretched his arms over his head in a mock yawn. “I will leave you to your rest,” he said before exiting the room. Near the threshold, he paused long enough to add, “Pleasant dreams.”
Tokens
With my thoughts raging in turmoil, I couldn’t sleep. I sat hunched over the side of the bed instead, so lost within myself that I barely heard Dublin when he finally returned. Whatever he saw in my expression made him stiffen with one foot poised over the threshold.
“What’s wrong?”
God. The sight of his cautious, careful frown banished some of the agonizing tension in my chest. Gone was the stranger from the throne room. He resembledhimselfagain, radiating his usual mixture of fury and frustration—but stillDublin, the bastard soul collector extraordinaire who’d stolen into my life uninvited.
The man who had corrupted me in more ways than one.
