Page 105 of Cloak of the Vampire
But now Eliza was back, and the hall was empty—all but for one man sitting in the front row, holding a large canvas painted in different shades of red blood.
She took a seat next to the man. Ragnor Rayne, a man she’d known all her life and who was like an annoying older brother to her, seemed to be absolutely lost.
Rayne was never lost. He was the type to guide lost ones to find their way.
And yet he seemed to be utterly defeated by his own stubbornness.
She turned to the painting. “It’s pretty,” she said. It wasn’t a masterpiece, certainly not beautiful, but it was captivating, nonetheless. Aileen Henderson might not be a great artist, but she had the makings of one.
Rayne said nothing, simply looked at the painting with empty eyes.
Sighing, she put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “You’ve done the right thing,” she told him. “You heard her singing that song. You know what it means.”
Her words didn’t seem to penetrate. She let her hand fall from his shoulder and leaned back, staring at the empty stage. “You should’ve bought her if you were going to be like this.”
That seemed to grab his attention, and he whipped toward her, eyes turning neon blue. “Should I have?” he asked bitterly, voice low and on the verge of a growl. “She’s been nothing but a nuisance. Arrogant. Insolent. Insanely maddening. Rude.”
Eliza glanced at his hands. He was holding the canvas so tightly that his fingers dented the cloth. “Yet look at you now,” she murmured. “You’re a mess, Ragnor.”
He turned away to glower at the painting. “I almost bought her, Eliza,” he growled. “I would’ve bought her if the host had waited just one more second.”
You snooze, you lose,she thought but didn’t dare say it. Not now, when Rayne, for the first time ever, was showing actual human emotions. “In the end, it’s good that you let her go,” she said quietly. “You know that, don’t you?”
He closed his eyes and slumped in his seat. “She never mentioned knowing about the tales of the Morrow Gods,” he said through gritted teeth.
She refrained from snorting, but her words betrayed her cynicism. “Yes, because she told you so much about herself, didn’t she?”
He put his arm over his face, taking a deep breath. “I’m tired,” he said quietly. “I’m so fucking tired.”
“I know,” she said softly. “But you did the right thing. You know you did.”
Because, Eliza knew, Aileen Henderson’s very existence was dangerous. Whatever her association was with the Children of Kahil, it could only be dangerous—especially for Ragnor.
Before the Auction, Eliza had thought differently. She believed Aileen Henderson was Ragnor’s saving grace she’d been hoping for, if only to save him from himself. She’d been delighted to see how twisted in knots Ragnor was over a mere twenty-one-year-old woman, so much so that no matter how many horrors the woman’s past revealed, she still believed Aileen was good for him.
But her trying to summon the Morrow Gods had changed things. Eliza could no longer support whatever was going on between Rayne and the woman. She could no longer support Ragnor’s interest in her.
Aileen Henderson was the enemy of Ragnor Meha-Seraphim.
