“But there’s a price,” I said, because there was always a price.
He nodded, then pulled one more document from the pile—I recognized it right away. One of Forza’s log sheets, part of an internal file that had kept track of hunter activities for millennia.
“Antonio found this in the archives. It’s a report from over twenty years ago. A hunter named Gregory Mathes performed Samarek’s Rite in Rome.”
Gregory Mathes. The name tugged at something in my memory. “Oh,” I finally said. “We worked with him a few times, back when Eric and I were still in Rome. Older guy. He’d been like a mentor to Eric for a while. You’re telling me he performed the Rite?”
Marcus nodded. “He performed the ritual to save someone who was dying. Someone who’d been poisoned by demonic venom and had only minutes to live.”
I went completely cold, my heart pounding in my ears.
I didn’t want to look at that document. Didn’t want to see what I already knew was written there.
“The ritual required blood,” Marcus continued, his voice soft. “Specific blood. From someone whose soul was connected to the dying person. Someone who loved them.”
“Marcus, no.”
He met my eyes, and I saw the sympathy there. The sorrow. “Eric’s name is on that report. He was the blood donor. And the person Gregory saved...”
He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t have to.
I looked down at the document. Read the words I’d been dreading. Eric’s blood. A demon’s bargain.
And my life saved.
But at what price?
15
KATE
Ifound him in the training room.
The space was large and open, designed for combat practice—padded floors, mirrored walls, racks of weapons along one side. Eric stood in the center, working through forms with his blade. The movements were precise, economical, the kind of muscle memory that only came from decades of practice. Thrust. Parry. Spin. Strike.
He was beautiful when he fought. I’d always thought so. Even now, with my heart hammering and my hands shaking and twenty years of secrets—again—sitting like poison in my gut, he still called to me, this man I could watch for eternity.
He turned when I came closer. And I watched the light in his eyes dim as he understood.
“Marcus put it together.”
I nodded. “Did you expect less of him?”
“Never.”
“Funny,” I said. “I expected more of you.”
“Kate.”
“You and demons and the damn secrets you share,” I snapped. “When is it going to stop? First, the whole demon-bound-inside-you thing that, oh, impacted our daughter’s entire existence. And now I learn that you used a demonic blood ritual to cure me? That I have some of that essence, too? And you never once thought I might like to be clued in?”
He dragged his fingers through his hair. “I know. Believe me, I know. I should have told you. I did tell Father Donnelly. He said it wouldn’t—well, that it wouldn’t mark you permanently. That its power would be drained away by the healing.”
I crossed my arms. “Great. You got off easy. What if that hadn’t been the case?”
“Dammit, Kate, you were dying. I’d do the same thing again today. And you know what? I think you would, too. For Allie. For Timmy. For Stuart.” He drew in a breath. “Maybe even for me.”
I blinked back tears. “Fine,” I snapped. “I get it. But it scares me.”
