Magic fizzled across the chains. The man’s eyes flooded gold, the chains snapping like twigs one by one.
“His name…” Silvanus whined, on his knees. “His name… His name…”
The chains clattered on the floor with angry thuds. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.
Done. Melting into the floorboards, eating through the wood like acid.
A sudden balloon of regret in my chest.
I shouldn’t have done this…
Shit. Had I fucked up? I backed away until I bumped into the cauldron.
No. This was right. This was how things were supposed to go down.
The man tore the mask away, revealing a rotten face, a hole exposing his jaw. Maggots spilled from his mouth, the stench of decay worsening.
Silvanus lifted his head. “Your name… Your name is…”
The man moved closer, lips spreading maliciously.
“Who…who are you?” I rasped, the balloon of regret swelling.
Those golden eyes gleamed, darting to the vampire king.
Silvanus stood up, bearing his fangs. “Your name is Aidan.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
PARIS
My head lurched, the shock such a gut punch I leaned on the cauldron for support.
“A-Aidan?” My eyes burned, my stomach a riot of pain. “You can’t…you can’t be Aidan.”
“Precious one,”the voice returned in my head.
I shook my head, the stink of decay too much for my body to handle.
“I am Aidan.” The zombie thing that couldn’t possibly be my deity spoke.
Our Aidan. He was of Heaven, not some animated corpse. He was beyond death, beyond everything.
And certainly not the lover of the vampire king.
“You’re not him,” I countered, my voice as tiny as a mouse. “You’re not him.”
My head, my head, my fucking head.
“Sing, precious one. You must sing now.”
Huh?’
“Sing, precious one.”
The zombie moved closer, grin widening, maggots tumbling down the rags clinging to his fetid body. “Poor little elf doesn’t know what to do.”
That wasn’t Aidan. That couldn’t be Aidan.
