Page 152 of Fated In Ruin
You still look like yourself.
His long hair was still braided, darker now, his skin an ashy tone, taking on a cooler tint in the muted light. But his face was still Malachi. From the cut of his jaw to the shape of his nose, to the dimple in the middle of his chin, he was an uncanny—and somewhat monstrous—duplicate of the male he’d been less than an hour ago.
A warning issued from the castle, the kind of shout that preceded violence, and I swallowed, automatically moving in front of him, checking my thigh holsters, finding one measly knife and a short dagger in my soaking wet pockets.
“I suppose there’s no way you can…change back? Into Malachi?”
That is not necessary, he said stiffly.This form is better suited to protect you.
“This form is better suited to get the both of us killed, so I’ll take that as a no,” I muttered, trying to spool up my magic, only managing to conjure up a haze of sickly shadows, not a flame to be seen.
The shouting grew louder, then Knightsguard in blue and silver uniforms poured through the front doors, as a handsome male with ice-cold eyes materialized in front of us, hand on his weapon, a grim expression on his face.
His uniform was fancier, so I assumed he was in charge. I pasted on my brightest smile.
“Hi there, I’m betting you’re wondering what’s going on, but we’re…”
The next second, a shimmering barrier wrapped around me, fine as gossamer silk, but I heaved out a sigh of relief. If Malachi’s glamour had grown as strong as he had, this stuff should stop a nuclear blast.
The male drew his weapon. “You have ten seconds to explain yourselves or we drop you where you stand.”
Normally, I would have come up with a smartass comment, but ten seconds wasn’t a lot of time, so I stuck to the highlights.
“This is Malachi Draven, here to see Brendan Thorne. We don’t have an appointment, but they’re old friends.” God, I felt like a butler, announcing guests at a fancy dinner party.
The male’s eyebrows dropped, then something crawled over my scalp, a prickle that sent my body tensing. When the odd sensation faded, so did some of the male’s bristling aggression.
“Is that so? We don’t often get…Draven, did you say? Malachi Draven?” His lips pinched together. “You’re not welcome here, traitor. Not after what you did.” Malachi began to rumble, the air around us shivering.
I rolled my eyes. “Why am I not surprised?” I muttered, firming my grip on my knives as I gave the male my best sympathetic look.
“Look, I totally get it, Malachi doesn’t have the best reputation. Just a few days ago, I was wondering why I hadn’t stabbed him myself, but now I’m glad I didn’t. Trust me, this is important. I hate to be dramatic, but the survival of our entire race depends on what he has to say.”
“If I had a pound for every time I’d ever heard that, I’d be fucking rich.”
“Look, can you just ask Brendan to come out here?” I pleaded. “Something terrible has happened and there’s a problem. A big one. Ravok turned Malachi into this, then reduced Château des Ombres Éternelles to rubble. There was a ley line beneath the ruins. A ley line that is now leaking magic up into the atmosphere. If we don’t stop it…”
“Ravok? Did you say Ravok?”
A blond vampire prowled toward us across the grass, hands in his pockets, his calm nonchalance reminding me so much of Malachi, my jaw dropped. The resemblance wasn’t so much in how the newcomerlooked, but that aura of casual power he surrounded himself with, the arrogance of someone who’d lived a hundred lifetimes.
Malachi’s top lip lifted, revealing enormous, curved fangs, a snarl rumbling in his chest.
An Elder. He’s an Elder. Evangeline, stay behind me.
One enormous hand landed heavily on my shoulder, talons pressing in as he yanked me against him, until I was surrounded by warm, tense muscle, something huge prodding the small of my back.
“Yes, he’s free and I really need…Malachireally needs to speak to Brendan immediately.” Behind me, the growling grew louder.
“Obviously, don’t do anything to provoke him, we’re still figuring out our new…dynamic.” Malachi pushed into the small of my back, and somehow, I doubted that was an accident, especially as his growl turned into a purr.
Stop that. You need to behave until I figure out what’s going on.
I can’t help it, you smell…delicious.
“Brendan is on his way,” the newcomer said softly, never taking his hands from his pockets as he looked between us. “I am Nikolai and this is Finn Forge, Commander of the Knightsguard. Finn, tell your men to stand down, these two pose no threat to us.”
“I’ll be the fucking judge of that,” Finn grumbled, but with a drop his hand, metal rattled as everyone sheathed their weapons.
