“So you killed him?” I spat, twisting my head in her grasp. Sloane and Calia both cried out as Ballard stepped forward, hands outstretched, sending wave after wave of searing agony crashing through me. My body convulsed, held upright only by my mother’s iron-fisted grip.
Her eyes flashed with surprise before her scowl morphed into a smirk. “Ah, I see you must have finally found Corvina’s journal. It was a pity she had to die. I saw such promise in her. Before, of course, I found she had been working for the Vail all along. She was craftier than I gave her credit for—I looked for that godsdamned book for months.” She must have felt me wince at the sound of Corvina’s name because her face lit up with an expression close to happiness. “I enjoyed watching you kill her, you know. It was so easy to compel you to take more than needed, to force you to drain every ounce of blood from her body until only a husk remained. Could you taste it in her blood when she finally died? Or were you too distracted by her clawing at you and trying to escape the terror of being slowly, brutally murdered by her own husband?”
“Fuck you,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Your father confronted me about it, scenting my perfume amidst her blood. He knew what I had done. Disappointing, that it took so long for him to grow a spine. He threatened to kill me!” she said incredulously. “So, it was an easy decision to lace his evening whiskey with belladonna. It was for the best, you see, finally having an excuse to be through with him. He enabled your weakness, nearly undoing all the hard work I put into hardening you when you were younger?—”
Calia hurled toward us without warning, colliding with my mother with a force that sent all of us crashing to the floor. My head cracked against the hard surface, stars dancing behind my eyes as I attempted to understand what was happening.
A figure loomed above me, placing their hand against my cheek. Urgent whispers told me I needed to get up and focus, but I could not bring myself fully to the present.
Elios stormed in front of me, stalking toward Ballard with a vengeance. Each step he took rattled the ground, cementing the witch’s fate.
“Please understand—” But Ballard’s words broke off in a choked gurgle as Elios curled his fingers around the witch’s throat.
“I understand more than you know, what we do to keep our family safe. It is what has kept you alive thus far.” He sent the witch flying backward, his body landing on the floor with a heavy thud. Ballard scrambled to his feet in time to deflect Elios’ fist.
“Get up, you bastard,” Sloane cursed, attempting to pull me to my feet. “I need you to get up!”
She turned, looking over her shoulder when I did not rise, drawing my attention to where Calia had Leonora pinned beneath her. My mother struggled to get free, bucking her hips in an attempt to throw Calia from her. My wife, ever the fighter, clung tighter.
She placed her hands around Leonora’s throat, cutting off the string of curses which poured from my mother’s lips. Calia’s beautiful laugh echoed through the room. “I am quite happy to be afat, fae whore,”she said, watching Leonora try to free herself.
Sloane pressed one hand to my cheek and the other to my chest, bringing my attention back to her. “Focus, Rion,” she said, a shade gentler. Blue light flared from her fingertips, spreading throughout my body as she chanted soft words I did notunderstand. Warmth spread from my extremities, sending what felt like flurries of electric currents racing through my veins.
“Jasper?” I mumbled, focusing on the prone figure near the door.
“I don’t know,” she said quickly, eyes growing wide as she increased her power. Her voice broke as she whispered it again and again.
I placed my hand atop hers, attempting to pull it away from me. “Go to him,” I groaned. “He needs you. I will be fine.”
Sloane hesitated only for a moment before scrambling to my friend’s side. She rolled him over, leaning forward and placing her hands over his heart. Frantic words spilled from her lips as power exploded out of her, casting the room in an eerie blue glow.
The world spun as I attempted to rise, falling again to my knees. Calia turned over her shoulder, watching me with concern and indecision.
The momentary lapse was all my mother needed.
Leonora grasped Calia’s hair and tugged, breaking Calia’s concentration and grip on her throat. She fell back against the floor, chest heaving as the air whooshed from her lungs, and my mother descended upon her.
Before I could cry out, Leonora met my gaze and sunk her teeth into Calia’s neck.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Calia’s mouth hung open in shock, her emerald eyes wide as she dug her fingers into Leonora’s arms. The bruising pressure of her fingertips did nothing to deter my mother as she greedily fed. Each deep pull of Calia’s blood was audible, a contemptible reminder of Corvina. I could not allow Leonora to cause my wife’s death as well.
Horrified, I watched Calia’s skin fade to a sickly pallor as Leonora consumed her vitality. With each pound of Calia’s fists, her strength diminished, movements growing languid until her body fell utterly still.
“Get away from my wife,” I growled, crawling toward them at a labored pace. The effects of whatever spell Ballard had cast still lingered, shrouding my thoughts in a dense fog that dulled my surroundings.
Elios lunged forward, but Ballard stopped him with a flick, binding the god’s wrists in a thread of golden light that hung from the ceiling. “I will kill you,” Elios seethed as Ballard rotated his fingers and hoisted his bound hands above his head.
The weight of his threat seemed to settle heavily on Ballard’s steadily drooping shoulders. “I know, but your interference now will ensure your daughter’s demise,” the witch answered, voiceladen with remorse. He tugged on the shimmering bond, forcing Elios to stand on his toes.
Leonora pulled away with a pop, letting Calia’s body fall to the floor with little care. She smirked, swiping a drop of crimson from the corner of her mouth and licking it clean. “My, my, my… What secrets you have been keeping. I had wondered how the little wench survived,” she said, chuckling. “Here I was thinking I would need to kill that one”—she pointed a finger in Elios’ direction—“to gain power.” She looked down at Calia contemptuously. “You know, she tasted a bit like you, your cousin. Despite your impotent father”—Leonora made the shape of quotation marks in the air—“having no hand in your making, you andBrielle, was it? shared the same tang of weakness.”
Though faint, I focused on the beat of Calia’s heart.
Not dead.
