Authors: Chloe Neill
Drink Deep (37 page)
Realizing that she’d have to face him down, she changed up her strategy again. “But that will hurt me,” she said, her voice more like a child now than a woman of twenty-eight. “Please don’t do that.”
“If you’re telling the truth, then I pray it will only hurt for a moment,” he said. He lobbed his hand at her; a diamond-sized glint of light flew in her direction, growing into a giant blue orb.
As if in slow motion, it flew through the air past me. But Mallory dropped the book and batted away the orb. With an explosion of light and rock, it hit the statue and knocked a chunk out of the knight’s shoulder.
“I hate you!” she screamed at him, and while I had no doubt the sentiment was just magic and exhaustion talking, the pain in Catcher’s face was clear.
“You’ll get over it,” he said, and threw another orb at her. This one landed, and struck Mallory square in the chest. She flew backward and hit the ground.
All that magic she’d created, all that energy she’d gathered together, was suddenly released. With a freezing cold rush, Catcher’s orb exploded, expanded, and spread into a blue plane of light that flew across the Midway with the roar of a 747, extinguishing the flames as it moved.
Extinguishing the spell as it moved.
Extinguishing hope as it moved.
For a moment, there was mostly silence. Smoke rose from the charred grass and singed trees in the Midway, and crackles of leftover magic sparked across the ground like miniature lightning. The haze lifted, and the red in the sky spread and dissolved, a few stars peeking through the haze of smoke. The outer edges of the park still glowed with cinders, but the firemen would be able to make headway now.
It t sth=was over.
Mallory was unconscious, her prophecy having come true. She’d been bested by Catcher, the White City at risk no more.
And Ethan was gone for good.
I shook my head to keep the tears inside, refusing to give in to grief. She’d have created a monster, and there was no point in grieving for something that never should have existed in the first place. I’d rather have memories and grief than a perversion of who he was. I’d just have to get back to living the life I had accepted was mine.
“I can do this,” I whispered, the tears falling down my cheeks. I stood up, looking over at Catcher and Mallory. He was winding glowing strands of magic around her unconscious body as if to bind her when she awoke. Magical restraints, maybe. I didn’t know what the Order would do to her now, but I couldn’t imagine it was going to be nice.
I felt pressure at my elbow and glanced around. Jonah stood behind me, gaze scanning my face. “You’re bleeding again
.”
.”
“I’m fine. Just a little shrapnel. McKetrick’s gun exploded—he’s over there.”
Jonah nodded. “I’ll make sure the cops find him. Are you okay? I mean, aside from the bleeding?”
“I think so—” I began, but was interrupted by the crackle of a particularly loud bit of residual energy. I ducked a little as it flashed across the park before petering out and sending a prickle of magic through the air.
“Merit,” Jonah quietly said. “Look.”
I glanced up.
A dark figure moved through the blue haze across the Midway, approaching us. The hair at the back of my neck stood on end.
“Get back,” Catcher said, moving toward us. “That thing is walking evil. The spell was interrupted, which means that’s the remainder of magic.”
But I held out a hand. “Wait,” I said, the word falling from my lips even as I began moving toward the figure.
I was compelled forward. Without explanation, every atom in my body was intent on moving to meet whatever was emerging from the fog of falling ash. That move could have been deadly, but I didn’t care. I kept walking. And when the fog cleared, brilliant green eyes stared back at me.
Tears sprang to my eyes.
My knees suddenly trembling, I ran toward him.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
PHOENIX RISING
H
e wore the same clothes he’d had on when he’d been staked—dress pants, his House medal, a white button-up shirt, a tear in the fabric in the spot above his heart. Eyes wide, he drank in the sight of me.
e wore the same clothes he’d had on when he’d been staked—dress pants, his House medal, a white button-up shirt, a tear in the fabric in the spot above his heart. Eyes wide, he drank in the sight of me.
I reached him, and we stared at each other for a moment, both afraid, perhaps, of what might come—and what had been.
“I saw the stake,” Ethan said. “I watched Celina throw the stake and felt it hit me.”
“She killed you,” I said. “Mallory . . . She worked magic to bring you back as a familiar. Catcher interrupted the spell. He thought it would create a monster, but you’re—you don’t seem like a monster.”
“I don’t feel like a monster,” he softly t sthwould crsaid. “I dreamed of you. I dreamed of you often. There was a storm. An eclipse.”
“You dissolved into sand,” I added, as his eyes widened in surprise. “I had the same dreams.”
Still frowning, he raised a hand to my face, as if unsure whether I was real. “Is this a dream?”
“I don’t think so.”
He smiled a little, and my heart tripped at the sight of it. It had been so long since I’d seen that teasing smile. I couldn’t help the new flood of tears, or the sob that escaped me.
He was here. He was alive. And most important, he seemed to be his own person, not some mindless servant, some black magic familiar of Mallory’s. I didn’t know what I’d done to deserve a chance at it, but he’d come back, and the gratitude—and shock—was nearly overwhelming.
“I don’t know what to say,” I told him.
“Then don’t,” he said, embracing me again. “Be still.”
A cool breeze crossed the Midway, and I closed my eyes, just for a moment, trying to take his advice, trying to slow the overwhelming beat of my heart. As I stood there, I’d have sworn I caught the scents of lemon and sugar in the air again.
But then Ethan shuddered. I looked up at him, and his eyes were glazed, his skin suddenly pale.
“Merit,” he said, gripping my arms fiercely, his legs suddenly shaking with the effort of standing. I wrapped an arm around his waist.
“Ethan? Are you all right?”
Before he could answer, he collapsed.
Luc and Kelley arrived at the Midway to inspect the damage, their joy at seeing Ethan muted by their fear—
our
fear—for his condition. Once assured Mallory was being cared for, the
Maleficium
was back in safe hands, and Jonah had control of McKetrick, we focused on getting Ethan back to Cadogan.
our
fear—for his condition. Once assured Mallory was being cared for, the
Maleficium
was back in safe hands, and Jonah had control of McKetrick, we focused on getting Ethan back to Cadogan.
The trip was surreal—escorting my evidently resurrected vampire lover and Master back to his House. Luc led us back through a gate in the fence I hadn’t known existed. We hustled through the back of the House and up the back staircase into Ethan’s suite.
Luc placed him on the bed and stepped away while Kelley, apparently having been trained in medicine in some former lifetime, looked him over.
Maybe having seen the fear and exhaustion in my face, Luc moved over to me. “You okay?”
I lifted my shoulders. “I don’t know what I am. Is he going to be all right?”
“Hell, Merit, I’m not really sure what he is or why he’s here. What happened out there?”
I filled him in on what I’d seen of Catcher and Mallory’s magic before he’d arrived. “Is Ethan her familiar? Will she be able to control him?”
“I don’t know,” Luc quietly said. “If Catcher interrupted the spell, I’m not sure why he’s here at all.”
“I’ve been having dreams about him—prophetic dreams about him and the elemental magic—since she took the ashes. Maybe he’s been coming back, bit by bit, since then.”
“So Catcher’s magic finished the resurrection, but kept him from being completely mindless? That’s certainly a possibility, but it’s not my area of expertise. Hell, I doubt Catcher even knows.er hed”
The unknowing, the risk Ethan would be at the beck and call of a girl so addicted to black magic she was willing to throw away her friends—and her city—pushed me over the edge. Fear and panic bubbled to the surface, and I looked away, tears suddenly streaming down my face.
I moved to the nearest chair and sat down, then covered my hands in my face, sobbing from the toll of the emotional roller coaster of Mallory and Ethan—and at the possibilities that I’d already lost Mallory . . . and that I’d have to endure losing Ethan all over again.
I don’t know how long I’d cried when I heard rustling, soft but certainly there, from across the room. Slowly, I uncovered my eyes and looked up. Ethan was propped up on the bed. He looked obviously weak, his eyes barely open. And as in my dreams, he said my name. But this was no dream.
I wiped away tears and hurried to the side of the bed beside Kelley. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Tired.” He swallowed. “I need blood, I think.”
I looked back at Kelley. “Is that an effect of the . . . whatever this is?”
“Possibly. Luc, can you check the second-floor kitchen? Grab some blood?”
Luc immediately went to the door of Ethan’s apartments, but came back two minutes later empty-handed, muttering a few choice words about Frank. The second-floor refrigerator was apparently empty of blood. As were the first- and third-floor fridges.
“Long story short, hoss, we’re out of blood at the moment.”
Ethan sat up a little. “I’m sorry? The House is out of blood? Why would Malik let that happen?”
“I’m going to re-stress the ‘long story’ bit. It also happens drinking from vampires is currently against the rules of Cadogan House, but I’m pretty sure we’ll go to bat for you on this one.” He winged up his eyebrows. “Although you may need to impose upon a Novitiate for nourishment.”
Now my cheeks were flaming red, but the suggested intimacy—the possibility that my Master needed to take blood from me—didn’t seem to faze Ethan.
Luc and Kelley silently slipped out the door.
Suddenly as anxious as a girl on a first date, I sat down on the edge of the bed. This was
so
strange. He’d been gone. And now he was back. I was so glad to see him I thought my chest might burst with it, but it was still surreal.
so
strange. He’d been gone. And now he was back. I was so glad to see him I thought my chest might burst with it, but it was still surreal.
“Nervous, Sentinel?”
I nodded.
Ethan tilted his head, splaying his golden hair against the pillow behind him. “Don’t be. It is the most natural thing a vampire can do.” He took my hand and gazed down at my wrist, then rubbed his thumb over the pulse that throbbed just beneath my skin. The sensation sent flutters of warmth through me, but not just of desire. He gazed beyond my wrist as if staring at the blood and life that ran beneath it, his emerald eyes silvering as the hunger for blood hit him.
I’d never given blood to anyone before. I’d taken it from Ethan, but that was the extent of it. Eight months ago, could I possibly have imagined this would be my first experience? That I would be sitting here, with Ethan, in his apartment, ready to offer up a wrist?
He pressed his lips to my pulse, and my eyes drifted shut, my body now humming with predatory interest, my own fangs descendinangbedg.
“Ethan.”
“Ethan.”
He made a faint sound of masculine satisfaction, and I shivered when he kissed my wrist again.
“Be still,” he said, his lips against my skin. “Be still.”
It had been a night for tears. For losing a friend, hopefully only temporarily, to magical addiction. For my own reunion with Ethan. But whatever those emotions, they paled in comparison to the reunion shared by Ethan and Malik.
When Ethan was fed and I’d advised Luc, Malik made his trip upstairs, his eyes as wide as saucers. He looked between me and a stronger-looking Ethan—still resting on the bed—trying to figure out the magic or trick at work. It took him a few minutes to even attempt words.
They’d known each other for a century. It stood to reason the reunion would be meaningful.
And when the reunion was done, as if nothing had passed between them, it didn’t take them long to get down to politics.
“The GP sent a receiver,” Malik said.
“They didn’t waste much time,” Ethan muttered. “Who did they select?”
“Franklin Cabot.”
“From Cabot House? Good lord.” Ethan grimaced. “That man is a worm. Victor would be better off if he met a stake of his own. How bad has it been?”
Malik glanced at me, as if checking in before burdening Ethan with too much bad news. But I knew Ethan well enough to presume he wouldn’t want to be coddled. I gave Malik a nod.
“I’ll give you the short list,” Malik said. “He put the House on blood rations. He revoked the right to drink in the House. He has limited their right of assembly. He revoked Merit’s status as Sentinel and sent her to see Claudia. He subjected the guards to a sunlight endurance test.”
Ethan’s eyes widened in disbelief. “I am at a loss.”
“He is incompetent,” Malik said. “Out of respect for the House and the GP I gave him room to conduct his investigation. But he has gone too far.” Malik cleared his throat. “I heard him on the telephone a few hours ago advising Darius that Cadogan vampires had been in league with a sorceress to destroy the city. I had planned to address the issues with him before the Midway occurred, but now that you’re back . . .”
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