“Oh? The vampire hunting family will have no problem with that, I suppose.” Emmett scoffed, glaring at Ambrose, who watched the proceedings with a clenched jaw. “Father has made very clear that I’m not welcome in the family unless I become exactly what he wants me to be. Raven only asks that I be myself. Which would you choose?”
Maxwell flinched. “It can be different. I just … I want my brother back.”
“Perhaps it’s too late,” Emmett said, drawing himself up. “Perhaps I’m already a monster that Ambrose can’t abide.” He shook his head. “I have killed. Isabel was the first human whose mortal life I stole.” He looked to me, noting my surprise. “That’s right. I was the wolf you grappled with at Foxglove Abbey.”
I blinked, attempting to process this along with all of the other revelations of the evening.
“Are you so far gone?” Ambrose demanded. “Would you kill us as well?” Then, paralyzed, I watched him drive his wooden stake into his brother’s back.
Emmett howled with pain, going rigid as Ambrose pounded at the stake with his fist, driving it deeper into his brother. But it wasn’t deep enough. Emmett whirled on his brother, smacking him so hard that he went flying into a nearby wall, hitting it with a resounding crack before he slid to the ground. Flailing, Emmett attempted to dislodge the stake from his back.
I leapt forward, grabbing his shoulder firmly and yanking the stake out with a quick hand. He rounded on me, snarling, and backhanded me, sending me to the floor. I grunted, twisting to prepare myself for a follow-up attack.
Emmett’s fingers curled into claws, ready to rip into me, face contorted with pain and rage.
I hesitated. This was Maxwell’s brother, whom he’d been so worried about. He was also Raven’s child. The family she wanted, the family I had denied her.
Damn it.
Emmett leapt at me and I shoved the wooden stake up with all the strength I could muster, screaming.
Emmett gazed down at me in disbelief with his one good eye as I held the stake that was jammed through his other eye. Blood oozed out around the stake as the boy’s lips curved into an ironic smile, and he slumped on top of me, still.
“Emmett!” Maxwell shouted as his brother crumpled to the floor. He dropped to his knees, holding Emmett’s head in his lap. He glared at me, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Why did you do that?”
“He’s not dead,” I said, wincing as I looked away. “Well, not anymoredead. I would have had to drive the wood through his heart. I … I couldn’t. The brain is delicate, though. It will take hours for his body to repair the damage.” I slowly stood on shaky legs. “Things were getting out of hand. He’s been temporarily removed from a very volatile situation so that everyone can take a breath.”
“You’re the one who should be removed! This is all your fault. All of it.”
I pressed my lips together to keep a tortured gasp from escaping my lips. I couldn’t ignore the truth of his words. This was my fault. If it weren’t for me, Raven wouldn’t even be in Hale’s Corner.
I turned to look up the hall. Violetta had been carried off. Another attacker, likely in league with Raven, had spirited her away, deep into the tunnels, perhaps back to Gramercy House or beyond. We would have no hope of catching up to her abductor now.
I shook my head. This night could not have gone any worse. I glanced at Ambrose, who had yet to get back on his feet. I blinked at his still form on the ground, at the blood pooling around his head. “Ambrose!”
I rushed to his side. His hair was sticky with blood and flowing freely, his beautiful face pinched with pain. “Ambrose, hold on,” I told him. “Head wounds always look worse than they are.”
“I suppose you would know,” he said, coughing.
I felt Maxwell at my side and watched him grasp his brother’s hand. “No, no, no,” he said. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”
Ambrose grimaced. “Don’t trust them. Don’t …” His voice trailed off.
“Ambrose?” Maxwell shook Ambrose when he didn’t answer. “Ambrose!”
I threw aside my jacket and ripped off strips of fabric from my shirt sleeves. I wound them around Ambrose’s head, watching with increasing anxiety as blood seeped through quicker than I could wrap. My eyes drifted to his chest, watching it rise and fall, praying that it would continue. “Let’s get him back to the house,” I said, shrugging back into my jacket. I lifted Ambrose in my arms with a grunt. I looked past him. “We’ll have to send a search party for Violetta. Perhaps your hunters will come in use.” I didn’t say she was probably long gone, at the mercy of whatever foul creature had been here. We wouldn’t have had the time to spare to search for her with Ambrose in such a dire condition anyway.
“They’re not my hunters.” Maxwell grabbed my arm. “Lucian, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I … just … I can’t lose him. Please.”
I couldn’t promise him anything. My heart ached, but all I could do was get Ambrose somewhere where a doctor could see to him. “I won’t hurt him,” I promised, gazing down at Ambrose.
“I know you won’t.” A muscle twitched in Maxwell’s cheek as he met my eyes. “You saved my life tonight. I don’t know the type of man you used to be, Lucian. But I know who you are now. You’re no monster.”
My throat thickened with emotion. “Maxwell. I—”
“Later,” he said, glancing at Emmett’s prone form. “I’m not letting him go again,” he insisted. I hesitated, but nodded as Maxwell pulled the stake from Emmett’s eye and tossed it aside with distaste, then lifted him with effort. He nodded, and we returned to the carriage as quickly as possible.
CHAPTER TWENTY
