Page 141 of Eternal Obsession

“We are an impossible match.”

“I couldn’t bear to think I’d never see you again.”

I smiled. “You just stabbed me!”

“Can we forget that bit?”

“Sure.” Didn’t sound convincing.

Walking over to her, I sat beside her and reached out and took her hand and squeezed it, searching for the words I wanted to convey.

“You would never hurt me?” Her eyes reflected a softening fear.

“Never,” I said earnestly.

“I’m ready to learn more about you, about what you are,” she said. “I know that this is fundamental to my case. I must learn everything.”

“Go and wash your hands. My blood’s all over them.” I followed her gaze to the table.

Ingrid saw me looking at the books. “I was hoping they’d help me with my investigation. Oh God, I need a drink!” Ingrid walked over to the cabinet and poured herself a large gin. “Would you like one?” she asked. “Of course not.”

A book title caught my eye: Necromancing the Stones. Something in me recognized its importance, but I kept that knowledge carefully hidden from her.

Ingrid carried her glass to the couch and sat down again.

“Orpheus will always be a threat to you,” I said, “while you are in my world.”

“Well now you have to tell me exactly who he is.”

“He stands as the most dangerous of our kind, a creature who is perilous as much in his beauty as in his cruelty. He will use you to hurt me.”

“You know, that kind of information would have been useful when he came at me in your castle.”

“I didn’t want to scare you.”

“You would have protected me.”

Her thoughts betrayed her plan to hunt him down. “Stay away from him. And if he approaches you, run.”

“Would running make a difference?”

I turned my head away not wanting her to give him another thought.

“He needs to be stopped, Jadeon. I’ve seen firsthand what he is capable of.”

“You may not survive him.”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” she said.

I sighed. “But one that I am not.”

Chapter Fifty-Eight

JADEON

The immense castle loomed before me, situated on an island formed by the river Len—a harsh reminder of my own home. The gatehouse, with its barbican and drawbridge, was a worthy entrance to “the loveliest castle in the world.”

The priest’s email had arrived in my inbox like a living thing, quiet and unassuming, but pulsing with the weight of everything I wasn’t ready to face.