So much blood. So much death.
I spin on my heels, and the light captures a tapestry hanging from the wall. It’s another scene of a battle in the valley withthe castle in the background, only this time, Alaric sits astride his horse in the centre, his sword raised over his head, his face twisted in fury and two long, sharp fangs poking from his mouth, dripping with blood.
A suit of armour stands in front of the tapestry. I touch the bicep, remembering the gap in the row of armour in the Stabby Chic room. Even as my mind screams at me to run, I draw my fingers over the embossed steel. My breath fails me.
It’s Alaric’s armour. I recognise the curve of his bicep, his trim waist, the sinewy muscles of his legs. The suit is dented all over, and the metal crumpled beneath the armpit, where the arm meets the shoulder. Rust stains radiate across the suit from his sword hand. The blood of his enemies that he never washed away.
He killed people in this.
My vision swims. I stagger for the door, but I’m losing my grip on the candelabra and my sense. I have to get out of here.
Above me, Alaric roars, his cries shaking the castle stones.
It’s true. It’s all true.
My boss. My client. The guy I’ve been falling for all these weeks … is avampire.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
ALARIC
Fuck.
THE NEVERMORE MURDER CLUB AND SMUTTY BOOK COVEN GROUP CHAT
Beth: I might be ten minutes late for tonight’s meeting. I’m in the middle of mixing up some of my soon-to-be patented anti-aging elixirs and then I need to ice the mung bean brownies.
Komal: NO.
Beth: Which part is no?
Komal: All things involving mung beans.
Isis: Beth, honey, we love you, but we beg of you, do not ice the mung bean brownies.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
WINNIE
“Reginald!” I scream as I race through the halls, my chest heaving. Behind me, Alaric bellows like a wounded bear. His mother makes a sound of disapproval. A door slams so hard that theCRACKreverberates through the vast hallways.
Reginald appears from one of the labyrinthine hallways that bisect the main corridor. “Ms Preston, you needed something? I’ve just brought the car around. What are you—” He must read my fear in my face because he grabs my arm. “You’ve cut yourself. Come quickly. We must get you away from them.”
I let Reginald drag me down the steps to the waiting car. As we tear away from the castle, I hear another almightyCRACKoverhead, and Alaric screams.
I glance anxiously over my shoulder at the retreating driveway. “What the hell is wrong with him?!”
We reach the little gatehouse. Reginald pulls the car to a stop and ushers me inside. I collapse into a chair. Reginald has the decency to look sheepish as he takes my hand. “Nothing is wrong with Lord Valerian. He is who he is. Our kind have different means of dealingwith the bloodlust?—”
OUR kind?!
I shudder. “He pinned me against the wall. He told me to run. He hadfangs. And all those portraits of him … Reginald, whatisAlaric?”
Reginald busies himself with a first aid kit. He dabs the cut with disinfectant and places a plaster over the wound. Only then does he look at me, his eyes sad.
“He is a vampire, Ms Preston.”
I sink down in the chair. “I was afraid you’d say that.”
