“Yes, my lord.”
“Of course, my lord.”
I shove Cornelius back. He may be a beast of a man in size, but I have centuries over him and that gives me strength he’ll never have.
“Now, get out of my sight.”
They scurry away like rats, tripping over each other until disappearing into a neighboring hall. With them gone, I run hand over my mouth. For a moment, I thought I’d lost it all, and it’s a feeling I never want to experience again.
Damn Keagan and Cornelius for their lies! Haven is mine. Mine. Everyone knows that, especially Avrum. It’s amazing how deep their jealousy runs.
I make my way back to my study. Despite my certainty of Avrum’s loyalty, my hand still shakes as I reach for the door handle. The thought of losing Haven is too great. It makes my insides tremble and stomach twist. I’ve been searching for my Linna again my entire immortal life, and to lose her after finally finding her again… I don’t even want to think about it.
I force myself to sit behind my desk. Leaning back, I wait for my mind to cease its race. Remembering the letter from Lord Favian waiting in my pocket, I pull it out and unfold it.
My eyes scan the words, and when I finish, I go over itagain, just in case. Malcolm, it says, had been seen in London just the week before.
Could it really be true? Am I finally close to finding my maker again after searching for so long?
Malcolm the Divine. A title, I’ve always assumed, he had bestowed upon himself out of his own vanity. It was clear from our very first encounter that the ancient creature was not as divine and as great as his name claimed. His biggest mistake was choosing me to turn almost three centuries ago and cursing me with crimes I wasn’t guilty of. I had only loved Linna. I would’ve done anything to be with her, even kill my birth father, but my love was wrong in his eyes and somehow that was enough to mark and turn me.
I don’t remember much of the night my human life ended. I remember the feel of the heavy rope I’d placed around my father’s throat as he slept, and his last gasp of air. I remember how hard my heart pounded as I watched him struggle, and then Malcolm’s commanding voice, thick with an unknown accent, declaring me full of sin. A monster of greed. But I’d never seen his true face. The brown hooded robe he’d worn obscured it.
That night, Malcolm had given me the curse by ripping a gaping hole in my neck and forcing his own blood down my throat. I may not be able to remember much, but I’ll never forget the feeling of my body dying, of my inner organs halting, and the fire of new life forcing its way back through my veins.
Because of mysins, I have to live forever with the guilt and the memory of what I’ve done. I was supposed to learn from it, he’d said.
He was wrong! There’s nothing criminal about saving the woman I loved from another man. But I’d been given no chance to explain myself. It was because of Malcolm that I never saw Linna again. She was lost to me forever.
Or at least, that’s what I’d thought.
I rub the back of my neck. It aches from the memory of what Malcolm did.
Since the moment I had awakened into my new life, I’ve searched for Malcolm, but the man is nowhere to be found. Yet, somehow, I can feel him everywhere. His presence lingers with me, but he still manages to stay just out of my reach.
Not anymore, though. Malcolm has been spotted in England, in a city not too far from Greystone Manor. I bring the letter closer to my eyes. As my gaze swoops from Favian’s signature to Malcolm’s name in bold, black ink, an idea strikes. I can invite my fellow lords here for another gathering, extending the same invitation to Malcolm.
When he comes, I’ll be civil and poised. I’ll show Malcolm the Divine all the good I’ve done with thecursehe’d given me. All those I have helped. I’ll prove to him that he was wrong about me.
Opening the topmost desk drawer, I pull out four fresh pieces of letter paper. With a dip of my pen in ink, I am ready to reclaim all I lost that lone night in 1550.
Avrum
Ilinger near the bedroom door, watching as Haven moves from the armoire to the slender cast iron bed. She drags her feet as she makes her way across the room and sits on the edge of the blanket. Even though she fights to keep her expression as smooth as marble, I can see the pain and regret lying underneath. She’d been given a chance to return to her father, and she’d still come back with me.
But for good reason. Her blood is mingled with Henri’s and that makes him able to track her for some time. Leaving now would be suicide, and I just couldn’t let her do it. It’s too much of a risk.
When her eyes lift up to meet mine, my breath catches in my chest. Even in the darkness of the room, they sparkle like a starry night.
“Are you going to bring me back to Henri’s bedroom?” she asks, her words heavy with fear, “and tie me there? Thatishow he left me after all.”
Hot bile rises to my throat at the very thought. There is no way I’m going to wrap ropes around her wrists and leave her there like some sacrificial offering. But she is right to worry. If I don’t return her, Henri will know she’d escaped on her own. The punishment will be extreme for her.
But I can’t do it. I just can’t cause her that pain.
“No,” I say shortly, coming to my decision. “You can stay here and get some rest.”
Her brow furrows. “But Henri—”
