Page 2 of Fated In Ruin
“Yes, we fucking are,” I hissed. “Then I’m killing that bastard, like I should have, the first time I saw him.”
1
EVANGELINE GRAVES
Malachi kept me firmly under his control as we flew, long enough my lips turned blue, my fingers went numb.
I kept my thoughts firmly focused on my hatred, on the foul words he’d forced me to repeat before we’d vanished, on the hurt on Blake’s face, and the rage in Riordan’s. Malachi thought he had the advantage, and until the moment I ended his life, I wouldn’t let him believe otherwise.
We landed hard, Malachi taking the brunt of the impact, the scent of cedar and ice so strong in my nose it took a moment for the new smells to filter in.
Lemon and sunshine and something pleasant, like the books in Darkmore’s library, all dust and parchment and old memories. Gentle, calming music played as I shoved Malachi away, surveying my surroundings, my stomach cramping with despair.
My new prison, for the foreseeable future.
I knew Draven had a flair for the dramatic, but this…this place was a bloodsucker’s wet dream.
Towering pillars of polished obsidian rose to meet a vaulted ceiling inlaid with veins of silver that shimmered like moonlight. Massive chandeliers, adorned with black crystals and flickering candles cast soft, dancing shadows that made the grand room come alive. A grand piano, with yellowed keys carved from ivory, gleaming curves lacquered in jet-black, occupied the center of the sprawling chamber, where the haunting melody played, echoing around the cavernous room.
“Can you not stab me until I have a chance to explain?” Malachi plunged his hands into his pockets, hooded eyes giving away nothing, like the impenetrable darkness looming outside the windows at his back.
I unclenched my locked fists, the music growing louder, each note ringing off the soaring ceiling. “By explain, I assume you mean twist reality into a string of lies that suits your motives?” If I actually had something to stab him with, he’d already be dead, but I was busy shielding my thoughts and coming up with a game plan.
Hewaspaler than normal. Maybe flying through the air for hours took a toll even on the indefatigable Malachi Draven.
Good, he’d be easier to kill when I got my hands on a weapon. At this point, even a butter knife would do. I could hack him apart, one dull slice at a time. I glared at the piano. “Does that thing ever shut up?”
“It’s spelled,” he glanced to the piano, still playing that mournful tune, “to begin playing whenever I cross the wards. It chooses the songs, not me.”
“Yeah, well, I’ll bet the fucking piano has better taste than you.” Malachi’s lips quirked, and with a wave of his hand, the music cut off, leaving us staring in silence.
“Where are we?”
“You know I can’t tell you that, Vicious. Not until we reach an agreement.”
I didn’t even try to contain my snort. “If I were you, I wouldn’t hold my breath. I’ve never been the agreeable sort, and right now, I’m inclined to be quite…disagreeable.”
His smile deepened into the kind I’d once seen on a wolf, right before it tore a rabbit to pieces.
“Nonetheless, know you are safe. I will not harm you, and the protections around this property will keep you hidden from the king and your mate.”
“Well, that means you get to keep your head a few more days, I suppose.” I pursed my lips, eyeing a heavy gold candelabra well within reach. “Lucky me.”
“This is not a joking matter. Our situation is dire. I need your assistance to…” I lifted a brow at his utter audacity to expect me, kidnapped and pissed off, to help him withanything. Then I lunged, a reckless, wildness urging me faster, grabbed the candelabra and swung.
I missed cracking his skull open by an inch—the ancient fuck was quicker than he looked—but the flash of surprise in his eyes was priceless.
He retreated and I followed, gripping my weapon like a baseball bat.
Picturing his head as a soft, squishy melon.
“We must arrive at a truce, Evangeline.” He put his hands up as he backed away. “You don’t understand how narrow our window of opportunity is to stop Ravok. And hemustbe stopped.”
“Oh, you mean the monster you kept prisoner all these years, who’s now escaped?” I hefted the candlestick to test for balance as he rounded the piano, putting it between us. “This is onyou, Malachi. And the moment Ravok’s strong enough, I know who he’s coming after first, and it’s not me.”
That patronizing, dimpled smile disappeared, replaced by sharpened eyes and a wild, almost-feral gleam on his face.
“I hope your glamour,” I waved my free hand at the ridiculously over the top room, “can keep him out. Otherwise, I expect Ravok is packing a metric shit ton of resentment over being locked away for eons. So good luck staying alive.”
