Page 46 of The Vampire's Mercy
A few weeks after her death, I learned one of the executioners dropped us in it. He’d left a confession letter, saying he wanted to embrace life as it was now. Called us antiquated and bitter. Even had the nerve to say he loved Pearl and never expected her to die.
That same day, we stormed the vampire house, slaughtering every single one of them. Which also meant we had to leave Cosgrove, finding shelter in the village of Berryrise in the west.
After Suzanne’s death, our group split up, with Hal and me heading for Oreflame. I tracked the traitor guy and strangled him in his sleep.
A violent round of puking dragged me out of my memories.
Thank Aidan. Memory lane could crumble.
Hal. After all these years, he cut ties with me without a second thought. Sold me down so many rivers to spare himself.
To hell with not blaming him. Screw understanding. It only went so far, and he’d pissed all over it.
And just like that, I despised the man, mentally burning every bridge, the thought of him touching me again adding to my nausea. He was another traitor, another sniveling piece of shit who’d one day feel my hands around his throat.
I’m coming for you.
I’m so fucking coming for you.
Tears rolled hot and fast down my cheeks, my heart skewered with hate and rage, all wrapped up in the ugly bow of grief.
I wouldn’t be coming for anyone. I wasn’t leaving this cell with a pulse. I wasn’t one for giving up, but sometimes you knew when the cards weren’t stacked in your favor.
Man, I hated card games.
This is it.
Here comes the end.
At least I’d be with Pearl again.
A heavy bang forced a cry from my throat.
I lifted my head as the cell door tore open, scarlet eyes blazing in the darkness.
“Who—”
A blur of speed, me rushing, rushing, rushing. The rot relinquishing its grip, my mind and body set free.
Out in the fresh air beneath the stars and?—
Silvanus’s hand closed around my throat. He pulled me toward his face, my feet dangling off the ground. Menace affected every aspect of his body language. And whoa, did those fangs protrude, winking in the moonlight like two pearly daggers ready to pluck out eyeballs.
By Aidan, he possessed some seriously monstrous beauty. Regal, scary, incredible. He smoldered in that way where you weren’t sure if the hot guy was about to fuck you or skin you alive—probably both, in this prick’s case.
“I’ll destroy you, elf,” he seethed.
He threw me to the ground. Jutting out my hands before I landed, they took the brunt of the impact, sparing my face, palms scraping asphalt. My knees slammed into the road, tearing my jeans open.
Free from the dead flowers, and buzzing with a new rush of adrenaline, I sprang to my feet, summoning my stakeblade. “Not without a fight.”
All my pain took a pause while I sized up the situation.
A palace carved from onyx with eight scarlet spires jutting at the night sky loomed above me. It crowned a sloped island, the twinkling lights of the houses on those slopes and the rolling sea around me told me exactly where we were.
Hurlock Island, a tidal island off the Ore Coast, nestled in the East Ocean estuary. Home to one of the eight vampire palaces in the world.
We were on the causeway connecting the island to the mainland, facing each other in the light of curved lampposts. The tide was out, which was good, considering it swallowed the causeway when high.
