“Then go to your kitchen and find me a knife. Alargeknife.”
“I’ll get you anything you need.” I wring my hands. “Spare no expense. Sinead!”
Sinead brings the knife and a few other things that Jo requests. I lock the basement door and slump against the stone wall, fighting to catch my breath.
I’m still woozy from lack of sleep and the shock of Arabella robbing me and Alyra turning up dead. My phone dings again. It might be Arabella. I reach for it, then drop the phone back into my pocket.
I thought I’d rather risk losing her again than go another night without telling her how I feel. I thought I had to give her the chance to admit that there is something deeper between us than two profoundly beautiful people wanting to hate-fuck each other into oblivion. But I was wrong.
I’m so, so tired of being wrong.
The pain in my chest is worse than grief, because this time I’m not grieving a woman I lost, but a woman I thought I’d found again. The dream of Arabella I’ve carried with me for a century and a half isn’t real. It’s my foolish heart burnishing off her edges and softening her dark soul and making me believe she’s someone she’s not.
I bared my soul to her. I gave her everything I have to give. And she still hates me.
That’s it. There’s nothing else I can do. I told her I loved her and she threw it back in my face. She robbed me and took the talisman I’ve carried since her reported death.
And I know I deserve all of it, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.
I’m not good enough.
I wasn’t good enough for my father not to beat me. I couldn’t save my brother from the bottle. I couldn’t stop Lucien from turning me into a monster. I couldn’t stop myself from being so blinded by grief that Iembracedthat monster.
And now Arabella has the hard drive, and with it, every secret that Sanctus is built on. The record of every sordid and illegal thing I did to make this sanctuary happen. Every bribe, every favour owed, every rotten cheque written.
When that gets out, the only good and right thing I’ve ever done in my whole sorry life will fall, too.
It’s right that my ruin is at her hands. Maybe we’re just destined to ruin each other, over and over through eternity. But who else will she bring down with me?
“Are you squeamish, Sir?”
A soft voice breaks me from my spiralling thoughts. I look up through grief-soaked eyes. Sinead stands in the narrow corridor, regarding me with pity.
She points her elbow at the closed door, from which emanates a distinctive scraping noise. “You’re not sitting in on the autopsy?”
I shudder. “I’ll pass.”
“Weren’t you in a vampire gang back in the day?”
“Iranthe vampire gang, thank you very much. The great thing about being the boss is that someone else does the bone sawing.”
Sinead folds her arms. “Sir, if I might be frank. We need to do something about Arabella. Alyra was trying to get hold of Arabella all night. It can’t be a coincidence that Alyra was killed the same night Arabella robbed you. She’s probably in the village right now, with her human friends from that meddling book club. I knew it was a mistake to involve them in anything to do with our community. Not only have they not found the killer, Arabella couldbethe killer! And now they’ve stolen our most secret files. They could expose everyone on the estate! We need to contain this—”
“I spoke to Arabella. She and the Nevermore Coven are on their way to return the hard drive. Alyra was herfriend. She didn’t do this.”
“You’re in love with her. You’re not thinking straight. She’s dangerous.”
“That will be all, Sinead.”
“You can’t let her get away with this—”
“That will be all.”
Sinead lets out a growl of frustration and storms away, leaving me alone with my dark thoughts. I stare at Arabella’s message on my phone. She wants to talk. What is there to say?
I can’t force her to love me.
I can’t keep flaying my heart open for her to stomp on it with her Louboutins.
