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“But you could show her the blood stores,” I tell Katherine. “Help me prove to her that I’m not a ghost. Show her what Edward plans to do with her—”
“It won’t matter, William,” Katherine says. “You know what I’ve seen. She will find out what you are soon enough. If you try to tell her now, she won’t believe you.”
“Mariah must die,” Isabella says. “It can’t be avoided.”
“With all due respect,” I say, “how is Isabella even capable of having this conversation?”
“My baby’s always been a fast learner.” Katherine smiles proudly. They share a tender look between them that makes me want to smash their heads together.
“Glad to see you’re all on-board with the prospect of Mariah’s impending death,” I say.
“An amusing accusation, coming from you,” says Katherine. “I would’ve thought you’d be the happiest of all of us to have her trapped here with you forever.”
“Not if it means killing her.” And losing the ability to touch her, I think, but decide not to say aloud.
“What happened to doing whatever it takes to get your revenge?” Katherine asks.
I sigh heavily, running a hand down my scruff. “I would rather Mariah escape this place and live a full, happy life, far from here, than to have her stuck on the estate, surrounded by her father’s family.”
Isabella offers me a bowl of something I can neither eat nor touch. I wave my hand through the dish.
“If you think my daughter will love you any less once she learns what you are and what you’ve been through, then you don’t regard her as highly as you claim to.” She stares at me for a long moment, no doubt flipping through visions of my future like pages in a picture book.
I clear my throat. “Can we please focus on the present?”
“You doubt your love for her, Will,” she says. “You shouldn’t. Love is the most powerful force there is. It makes us stronger, not weaker.”
“A few weeks ago, he would’ve argued that vengeance was the stronger motivator,” Katherine says.
Isabella cocks her head. “Now he’s not so sure.”
“I didn’t think William was capable of loving anyone but himself.”
“He is capable of loving her,” Isabella says. “But his is not a sweet love, or a kind love. His love will drag her to her knees and slice through her like a knife, before it rips her heart out.”
They regard me with contempt, despising me for a crime I haven’t yet committed—a crime I seem to be the only one interested in trying to prevent.
Isabella shudders. “Please step outside, Will. I can’t bear to look at you right now.”
“Please.” I implore both of them. “I’m begging you—”
“Go,” Katherine says.
I march out of the house, exasperated and dismayed. This is precisely why I’ve always avoided the company of witches. Haughty wenches talk over and around you like they have all the answers, because they usually do. It’s maddening. Though I’d bet the futility of being able to predict the future, while lacking the ability to change it, would drive anyone mad eventually.
I wait on the steps for Mariah and her grandfather to return. When I catch sight of them coming up the drive, I stand. She thanks John for showing her the flowers, hugs him, then waits for him to go inside before wrapping her arms around me. I kiss her like it’s the last time I’ll get the chance to—because it very well might be.
“I can’t believe they’re all here,” she says. I press my lips to her forehead. There’s tension in her muscles, and I know the question she wants to ask before she’s even said it. “Will, why did you wait so long to bring me here?”
“I was worried your family would warn you away from me.”
“Why would they do that?”
“Because I’m not a ghost,” I tell her. “I’m a vampire. Edward’s got me locked in a cage, and he and Chastity have been stealing my blood to add to their wines. I wanted to trick you into freeing me so I could drink your blood and escape.”
Mariah stares at me like I’ve just sprouted a second head.
“Is that supposed to be a joke?” she asks. “Because it’s a bad one.”
