image
image
image

33

image

I HAVE TOO MANY men in my life. That’s what I decide as I stomp through the forest the following morning.

Kane looked me in the eye. We have a connection. He kissed me until I wanted to burn in hell with him. He could have told me he knew but couldn’t say. I don’t know if he lied to me, and that’s what bugs me most. I don’t know. Because that means some part of me does know this: he is perfectly capable of looking me in the eye and telling me any damn thing without a hint of inflection to give the lie away.

Gabe has always been my constant. My best friend. My love. My home. I can’t let go of him. But look at what we’ve done to each other in the name of love and friendship. And now this: my life precariously balanced against his on a devil’s scale. I’m chasing a death sentence every time I meet Nial. If I break the deal, Gabe is dead.

The devil himself. Nial, with his cherub face and affectionate manner and his stone-cold, backstabbing deals.

And Prince Neculai Dracul. The Vampyre whose death triggered the end of the world. What is one more mortal Silk to him? I am dead—served and drained and deader than dead—if he ever learns where I’m headed right now, which is easier said than done. All he needs is a niggling feeling and he can compel me to blurt out all my truths.

The ground is slick from last night’s rain, sending me into a slide as I grab for roots and shrubs on the stupid embankment path to the hollowed outcrop where Nial waits.

I’m streaked with mud and rubbed raw down my left side and it’s karmic, tragic karma of epic proportions, that the last thing I ever say to Nial as I sweep my hair aside and offer my vein is, “You seriously need to find a better spot, this place is a death trap.”

“Don’t be melodramatic, love,” he says as he wraps an arm around my waist and snaps his jaw, bringing his mouth to my throat. “It’s the company that counts, not the scenery.”

I roll my eyes without comment, bracing myself for the bite. A few more days and he’ll be back on his bland buffet diet. I hope he chokes on it.

His fangs break skin and he latches on, threading the burn through my veins as he drinks. My pulse throbs and my blood pulls, over and over to the deep, sucking rhythm. My eyelids grow heavy, my limbs weaken... I feel myself falling into the support of his embrace when suddenly it’s not there. His body softens a fraction before mine, dragging me with him as he crumbles.

We’re locked in a gruesome embrace on our knees, our bodies propped together, his forehead slumped on my breast. The hand around my waist goes limp, flops away, and it takes all of my drained strength to push back, to roll out of the way before he crushes face down on the ground.

I look at the arrow sticking out of his back for a long moment without comprehension. My mind is blurred...not an arrow. Some kind of dart, and something terrible is happening to Nial. To his neck. To his face. The skin is withering around his veins, paper thin and ashen.

It takes another moment for the danger to hit me. Whoever shot that dart—my gaze lifts sluggishly over his limp body. I should be frantic, but that’s just a word floating in my brain. He never had a chance to seal the bite wound. My blood is dribbling down my throat, ebbing me to unconsciousness. It takes all I have to keep my head from rocking forward, to keep my eyes open to peer at the guard standing in the distance.

I know him.

He’s the second guard who serves the House of Ell.

Nial’s friend.

He’s staring at me, a short-barreled rifle dangling from his hand.

Why would he kill Nial?

Why isn’t he approaching? Why isn’t he making his move to apprehend me? I’m not that far out of it. I have enough grip on my mind to understand he should be.

But he’s just standing there, and then he turns a shoulder on me. As if I’m of no interest. He takes a step—to walk away?—when suddenly his gaze whips around. Not to me. Whatever has caught his attention is cut off by the hollow of the outcrop. Whatever it is, he’s changed his mind.

He approaches with a slow, menacing stride, his eyes slanted beyond my vision when he says, “Mistress Ell, what are you doing here?”

“I was concerned over one of my Silks.”

Mistress Ell?

Maybe my brain isn’t that scrambled after all. This is starting to make sense in the worst possible way.

Mistress Ell rounds the bend into view and draws to a momentary halt, jaw slack, then she pulls herself together and continues, her gaze sweeping between me and Nial’s prostrate form. “What happened here?”

“He tried to run.”

My eyes track Mistress Ell.

She is a blurred vision of elegance and serenity as she dips on her knees before me, tracing a finger in the wetness at my throat. “This is most unfortunate.”

I have to agree. I wet my lips. My mouth is dry, parched. I’m seeing two of Mistress Ell and both are watery.

She rises to her full height and declares, “Take her to the dungeons. And stop the bleeding. The prince will want to interrogate her before she’s served to the king.”

And there it is: the dreaded end of me.

We almost made it.

I came so, so close. So close. So close. The words drift with me into the descent of blackness.

––––––––

image

** THANK YOU FOR READING and I hope you enjoyed this book. The 3nd book in the Tithe series release date is April 2021 **

––––––––

image

FOR MY READERS

If you enjoyed this first book, please consider leaving a review if you are able. Even just a couple of words help so much. I’m grateful for all feedback from my readers, good or bad.

Thanks again for your support.