Page 29 of Until the Heart Stops
I lifted my chin a fraction as his cold eyes settled on me, forcing back the bond humming through my chest. With careful movements, I tugged up the sleeve of my robe and extended my arm forward as Mateo and the others did. But I mourned what would come next, for Lilith’s blood to be spilled onto the stones. And yet I was relieved it was only through my veins and not hers. If I could help it, Mael Auguste would never know of the witch to whom my heart belonged.
Mateo pulled the knife from his robe and passed it to me. I cut my wrist in, my attention never wavering from the vampire before me, even as my blood pooled at my feet.
This male would destroy everything if he was not stopped.
Chapter 14
All the immortals filed out of the room, starting with those closest to the doors, until only we were left with our maker.
The four of us stood so still I wasn’t sure if any of us were breathing. Atticus had thrown the woman’s body over his shoulder and, with a bow, closed the door behind him as he left. Silence filled the empty chamber that had once been a gorgeous library. The books were now ashes and long gone, just like any humanity my maker might have had.
In the practiced movements of countless centuries, we lowered to our knees, dipped our chins and pressed our fingers to our lips. A disgusting crawling sensation skittered beneath my skin, acid rose in my throat, and I stared unseeingly at the blood seeping into the stones. So much had been spilt here in the last few centuries I was sure the scent would never be purged. Only fire could destroy it now.
Mael’s bare feet splashed as he circled the table, taking his time. When I’d first been made, I’d worshipped himlike the god I believed him to be—like the god he was sired from. His cruelty had been slow building, as was his madness, and I could remember times in the beginning when he’d been a true maker. Those nights he’d taken me hunting and taught me how to tell when the heart was about to stop. Those early years he’d spoken to me of our history in the world and tales of his nights with Seth, his maker, the very first of us all.
“Tell me what you know,” he said now.
The words held no hint of emotion or feeling. We were soldiers, expendable, usable, and nothing more.
“The night market thrives, my lord, as does the black market,” Mateo answered in his even tone. Betrayal sparked through my chest even as I knew he would never put them in danger. “Your dens are well staffed and flow with customers.”
Those customers didn’t know they put their coin straight into the pocket of the very ones they abhorred. That in their most vulnerable state as they drank from their blood givers, the witches within his employ spoke to them the propaganda they’d been fed of a better world beneath the Covenant’s rule. They weaved their intention with their magic and, over time, brought new members into Mael’s ranks.
“And the other?”
I built the wall I’d lived behind for so many years, not moving an inch at the mention ofothers. Risqeu lan Serang was the last surviving den and the last on his list of threats.
“Soon to shut down all on its own, my lord,” Mateo said. As the eldest he spoke for us all.
“And the Lycans?”
Mael had countless Lycans within his employ and it was these to whom he was referring now. Mateo was the prodigal son, after his brief rebellion when he’d first beenmade, he was the one whom Mael considered his right hand above all others. It was Mateo who met with the Lycans and their clans, who spoke to them of theprosperity of the Covenant—or so Mael believed.
“Eager to be at your service, sire, and grateful for the gifts you bestowed.”
Little did he know Mateo offered theluynaversoand healing elixirsto the clans with no strings or expectations attached. He also had no idea that Eamon joined Mateo on these trips, speaking with the alphas and making lists of things they might need in order to protect themselves should Mael ever decide on an all-out war.
Our maker hummed thoughtfully and clicked his tongue. “And you?”
He did not need to say my name for me to know I was being addressed. Slowly I lifted my head, forcing back the hatred until it merely simmered behind my own self-abhorration. Lilith was there in the bond, her concern over this spark of rage and despair a balm against the wounds that would never heal.
“Feeding from the synthetic stores, sire. It has been a week since my last and I feared I would lose control during the ritual if I did not.”
Emotion flickered behind his black eyes but I did not know what it was. Could he scent her on me, even with the potent blood beneath us? His presence pushed against my mind, the gift we all feared above any other. In the beginning we had been victim to this power and he’d ransacked our thoughts, twisted our fears until we were putty in his hands. I had been the one to learn the skill of keeping him out, creating a chamber inside my mind that showed him exactly what he wanted to see. I’d taught the others the same skill along with anyone else who needed protection from his wrath.
Mael said nothing else, merely turned and strode from the room through the secret door leading to his chambers. But we knew he was still listening even as our shoulders sagged. We got to our feet. Henry and I held a hand out to Gabrielle to assist her. She was silent, as she always was after these rituals, her green eyes fixed to the stone table.
“Come on, love,” Henry murmured, wrapping an arm around her waist and leading her from the room.
Our shoes left bloody footprints as we left. We did not say a word as we descended the stairs back to our wing. Silence reigned even until Henry murmured soft words into Gabrielle’s ear and pulled her into her living quarters.
“That’s it,” he crooned and there was the rustle of fabric falling to the floor. “Almost there, beloved.”
Water splashed in a bowl, followed by Gabrielle’s ragged exhale. Mateo and I relaxed in sync at the sound, exchanging a look before departing to our own rooms to change. I washed the blood from my skin, eyeing the night out the window. It was still early—early enough that I could go to Lilith.
The memory of her washed over me and I groaned, gripping the window ledge. She was remembering too. Images flashed through my mind of my face, my eyes bright in the dark, the feel of my fabric covered cock sliding against her core.
Fuck.
