Jaci’s heart sank. He didn’t care what that kind of magic did to her. How it left her buzzing and raw, her insides scraped hollow. All he cared about was his intel. Was the fact that she’d somehow fucked up their simple plan, and the dark mages who damn near sacrificed her life had put their hands on his fucking property.
Anger rose inside her, a black and twisted thing that burned all the raw nerves the magic hadn’t reached.
Somewhere in the back of her head, a dim voice told her she was misunderstanding. That the shocking intensity of the events they’d witnessed, caused, and endured had rattled them both. That she needed to tell Gabriel about Viansa, about the curse, about her lineage, about her deception.
About all of it.
But in the midst of her quiet rage, her pain, all Jaci could do was attack.
“For all your bloodlust,” she spat, “for all the people you’ve tortured and killed, you have no idea what happens when you unleash so much violence on men, do you?”
Confusion knit his brow, and he stared at her, completely oblivious.
“Mages are human, and human emotions are energy forms,” she said. “When you killed them, all their anger, their trauma, their fear, their pain—all of it escaped in an instant. And where do you think it went?”
“Jacinda, I don’t know what you’re talking about. All I know is what I felt. What I scented—your fear. And when I stepped into that cave and saw that mage with a knife at your throat, his hands on you—”
“You slaughtered them!” she shouted, as if he’d somehow forgotten. “And I sucked up all the bad mojo like a Hoover, turning myself into a bomb. That’s what you saw. That’s what brought the storm and the sea. That’s what nearly finished usbothoff.”
Gabriel shook his head, incredulous. Disbelieving. She saw it in his eyes—a cold revulsion where moments earlier there had only been heat.
Inexplicably, he reached for her face, but she didn’t want his placating touch now. She pulled back, shaking her head.
A flash of guilt and sorrow shot through his eyes, but then he closed himself off again, putting her on the other side of a wall of ice.
In a cool, detached voice, he said simply, “Coming here tonight was a mistake.”
Unbelievable.
She shoved his shoulder, damn near ready to rip his heart out right there. “You aresuchan asshole.”
She waited for him to call her on it. To grab her in his arms and pin her down on the beach, claiming her once more in all the filthy, vicious ways only Gabriel could.
But in the end, he only shook his head, a heavy sadness settling over his shoulders.
Oblivious to their arguing, the sea murmured against the shore. Demons and vampires might be immortal, but they had nothing on the timelessness of the tides, endlessly reshaping the world while the rest of them pretended they were anything but a passing fart from the universe.
Salt stung Jaci’s eyes. Her legs began to quiver with exhaustion. The insanity of the night had finally caught up with her, and she swayed on her feet.
Gabriel darted forward to catch her—instinct more than heart, most likely—and she pushed him away, straightening herself before she face-planted. Then, because even her wet hair was warmer than the absence of her vampire’s touch, she pulled the sopping mess tight over her shoulders and ducked his gaze.
It was too intense. Too accusatory. And if she didn’t know better—too worried.
But Jacididknow better. If the vampire was worried, it was only about his precious intel on Renault. The yet-to-be-determined cure on his family curse. All the many grievous mistakes his “property” had made tonight.
Her guilt bubbled up, bleeding into her longing and fear and desperation until she could no longer tell where any of them ended and any began.
Gabriel opened his mouth to say something, but she held up her hand and shook her head. In a soft, defeated whisper, she said, “Take me home, Gabriel.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Gabriel.
Not Prince. Not vampire. Not dickhead.
Bloody hell, he’d never hated the sound of his given name as much as he did at that moment. It was empty. Distant. A door slamming in his face.
Gabriel.
