Chain Me (The Ellie Gray Chronicles Book 2)

by Lana Sky

  I recoiled in horror, just as my gaze fell over the small splash of color on her chest once more. The three splotches uncomfortably resembled three droplets of blood. Like the ones I’d bled during my “meeting” with Gabriel Lanic.

  “I so do love this as a fashion statement,” Adara chirped, sounding young once again.

  In the flickering daylight, the nuances of her “dress” stood out to me more clearly. A slight design distorted the surface—one eerily similar to what might adorn the tablecloth of an exclusive restaurant.

  “So, before you act upon that devious thought lurking in your brain, Cael, remember that I already have her blood.” Her voice transformed again, expanding into the warning hiss of a grown woman. “I could kill her, as the young ones say, six ways from Sunday.” She licked her finger and lowered it to the reddish stains.

  Darkness. Suddenly, I was lying on my back, blinking up at the sky.

  “Eleanor!” Someone was holding me in his arms, cradling my head above the ground. “What did you do to her?”

  “She’s fine,” Adara insisted. “That was merely a warning. Do play nice with me. I don’t want to hurt her—”

  “So, what do you want?” Dublin demanded. “I’m sure that’s the only reason you’ve chosen to show yourself now.”

  “What do I want?”

  I looked over and found her stroking her chin, her gaze thoughtful.

  “Maybe I want to see your face when I finally convey the bitter, cold truth I think you’ve known all along.”

  “Your curse,” Dublin said coldly. “So tell me, what exactly did it entail?”

  “What?” Adara shrugged her tiny shoulders. “You forget that this was never meant to be a punishment. At least not at first…” She smiled, teeth bared ferally. “It was a gift. Everything he wanted—life from death. There was a price to pay, of course. I’m sure you’ve already figured it out by now.”

  Dublin said nothing, his expression drawn tight.

  “Oh, you have,” Adara deduced. She cackled with glee, clapping her hands. “That’s the whole bit of irony, I suppose—just as Mero intended. You see, the only way the curse would have ever triggered in the first place was if you tried to do something naughty, Dublin. Something, you swore you would never ever do.”

  My mind spun with her words. Something in her mischievous tone made me recall something Dmitri said the day he barged into the manor in Italy. For all your loathing of the act, you must have feared for her life, I suspect. I’d heard Raphael tried feeding from her. That could… But that wouldn’t explain why she didn’t die. No. Though if you did try to turn her…

  “You tried to turn her,” Adara said. She lifted her skirt and twirled in a circle while Dublin watched on, as frozen as ever. “I’ve heard the rumors: Raphael bit her, didn’t he? I’m sure the bastard knew about the agreement you forged with Mero. He would stay in the shadows, averting a nasty war with Raphael. As long as you…what? Go on, say it.”

  When Dublin remained silent, she sighed.

  “As long as you stayed away from the Gray bloodline. Why? Perhaps he owed it to his loyal servant, James? Or perhaps he knew all along.” She giggled mischievously. “He knew that one day, you wouldn’t be able to. That you who so cherished your restraint wouldn’t be able to hide behind that silly necklace any longer. You defiled the charming Eleanor Gray—but in doing so, you triggered the so-called curse. A fate that Mero had always intended for himself. That kind of magic requires a price, you see. A blood price. His blood, or in this case yours. As the new life grows, that price must continue to be paid, or both will die.”

  “Blood,” I croaked, the only word I seemed capable of saying at first. My mind grappled with the insanity of her words, piecing the morbid puzzle together. “That’s why I could drink…”

  “Yes,” Adara said, as though it was as trivial a matter as a buzzing fly. “You need blood, but only to sustain the life growing within you—but that is not the true price paid.”

  “Keep talking in riddles, and I’ll reconsider this conversation,” Dublin warned.

  Adara giggled, but I didn’t miss the slight step backward she took. “Careful, darling. I truly won’t hesitate to kill her.” She fingered the front of her dress again, inching toward the reddish stains. “Alas, the true price is that…well, you’ve lost. You’ve forfeited her already, and you did it—here’s the funny part—to save her. Funneling all that time to Raphael. And the cruel bastard gave up just enough to drive that point home, didn’t he? Ten years, was it?” She eyed me, her lips bared in a hellish grin. “Ten years to spend with her. Ten years with your delicate, mortal child. Ten years before Raphael gets to yank your leash and call you to heel. Have you told her? No, you haven’t. Because I doubt even you can admit it to yourself.”

  She stepped forward, her hands folded sweetly before her. “Your precious Dublin tried to circumvent nature when he attempted to turn you. In return, he gave up his mortality, and he doomed you to a life that he will—at best—enjoy ten years of before you age and wither and die. Your beautiful little daughter will only know him as a shadow flickering along the edges of her life before it fades entirely. Raphael may allow you to see her every now and again, but only so that he can use her to milk you for more, and more, and more, and more. So why have you sought me out? To save you? I cannot do that.”

  “Then we’re done here.” Dublin grabbed my wrist and pulled me to my feet. Using his body as a shield, he tried his best to shelter me from view.

  “No!” Adara admonished, wagging a small finger as she sidestepped his attempts. “I’m not ready to let you go running away just yet, either…” Her grin turned feral. “As a courtesy for my visit, I would like to request a reward.”

  “What the hell do you want?”

  “Eleanor, of course. Now you have to let me play with her!” She lunged forward, snatching my wrist, and took off, pulling me beyond his reach.

  The fact that he even released me at all betrayed just how seriously he took her threat. I don’t want to hurt her.

  “Come on, silly girl!” She cackled maniacally, tugging me along. “Keep up!” Halfway across the park, she released me and collapsed, giggling into a heap. From the rumpled cloud of her dress, she eyed me and sighed. “You poor, pathetic little fool. If you at least showed some intelligence, I might be tempted to pity you.”

  I tensed, somehow knowing not to let the insult slip unchallenged. She reminded me of a cat in a sense, testing with claws drawn, every bit as mercurial as Tinkles. “How am I a fool?”

  She fingered her necklace, twisting the tiny charm between her thumb and her forefinger. “Because you cower, and whimper, and whine,” she spat. “You don’t play the game. Like a good little pawn, you huddle in silence and let Dublin growl over you like some kind of a wild beast. It’s disgusting!” She raised her arms in exasperation and kicked her legs into the air. “The worst part? You know he doesn’t truly want you. It’s the curse, you see. It’s Mero who truly owns him. Everything he’s done for you has been a mere delusion.”

  I swallowed. “You’re wrong.”

  Or she was right and it was the truth…

  “You don’t even sound convincing!” She threw her head back and cackled. “Oh, the look on your face. You know it too, don’t you? The little lie you let yourself believe.”

  That I could have a future. Happiness. Dublin.

  A life beyond the grim existence that I spent years telling myself awaited me.

  “I should just kill you now,” Adara remarked, her tone flat. Bored. “With his life sold to Raphael, ten years of forced, dutiful contact with dear ‘Dublin’ would be pitiful to endure, even for me—”

  “No.” I shook my head, gritting my teeth. Those horrible voices lingered, whispering and taunting. This time, I made myself banish them for good the only way I could: by countering them out loud. “No! You know what? I’m done! I’m tired of denying myself. Why shouldn’t I demand my happiness?”

  I glare
d at the sky as if expecting an answer. “Why shouldn’t I want to believe that Dublin Helos could want me? He’s handsome. He’s more beautiful than anyone I could ever dream of. Why can’t I want him?” I started to pace as rage built within me. I wasn’t just arguing with the voices in my head anymore—but my mother. My family. Old friends. Society. My sister. “Why can’t I dream, for once, of a future with someone who loves me? That I deserve that future? No, you are wrong. I do deserve it. I want it, and I’m tired of everyone acting like I can’t have it. Who cares if Dublin even wants me or not? I want him!” And I slammed my foot to prove it, as if twenty-six years of suppressed temper tantrums chose that second to explode from me at once. “So sorry, Miss…” My mind buzzed, so incensed that I couldn’t remember her name until a heartbeat later. “Call me whatever you want. I refuse to continue to believe that I am worthless anymore.”

  Adara eyed me with no expression. Then she sighed. “Men.” She rolled her eyes, even as her voice betrayed a wistful, almost pained note. “Sometimes they forget that they are the true pawns. I mock you when I am the one who loved a man so much that I stained my soul black for him, even though he loved another. And where am I now?” She shrugged. “And where is he…”

  Slowly, she stood, dusting off her dress. “You should go back,” she said, nodding to the vampire waiting in the distance. “Tell him that I cannot help you. He knows what must be done.”

  “What?” I croaked. Even though I didn’t know Dublin’s true reason for seeking her out, a deep-seated impulse made me press for whatever answers I could. “What must be done?”

  “He must face his punishment like a good boy and own up to the pain he’s caused. He can no longer run from it. He knows as much. I think our dear Cael is merely afraid of what he will learn: the truth.” She eyed me with a sigh, and for once, she looked more childlike than anything. Helpless. “No matter how hard he fights, you are destined to die eventually. Such a fate is both his redemption and his doom. Goodbye, Eleanor Gray.”

  She turned and skipped toward the trees, vanishing beneath them.

  And I watched her go, frozen in place until Dublin lifted me in his arms. He hurried to the car, and in his haste, the world blurred, reduced to a smattering of color and shadow.

  Old Friends

  When viewed in the grim, overcast daylight, Gray Manor felt less like my old childhood home and more like a diving board extended above an unknown depth. Every inch we traversed would merely hasten the inevitable fall.

  Yet a part of me knew deep down in my soul that we were bound to it. Even as the danger of the Grayne, and Mero, and Raphael, and only God knew who else loomed overhead…

  Somehow, Gray Manor seemed destined to be where it all would end.

  Dublin’s expression all but cemented that. He silently parked the car, his eyes a tormented silver—but above all, resigned. Whatever the witch had told him had sowed an air of surrender so alarming that I squirmed in the face of it.

  It was the same expression he had been wearing the day before he’d vanished all those weeks ago.

  Hopeless, vengeful, and cold.

  Adara’s words resonated in my mind, a foreboding declaration. “He doomed you to a life that he will—at best—enjoy ten years of before you age and wither and die.”

  His heavy sigh drew my attention, but he merely exited the car without saying a word. I remained seated as he crossed to my end of the car, but his hand extended before me was my only command to obey him.

  I did, entering that drafty, unwelcoming home in his wake. I knew that its dull, dreary walls would never feel the same again.

  The old Eleanor would have succumbed to the silence, allowing him to brood, and plot, and drift further from me by the second.

  But I couldn’t.

  “Talk to me,” I demanded as he started across the vacant foyer. “Please. Tell me.”

  “What?” He turned and I sucked in a startled breath. Shadows enhanced the contours of his face, making him appear hollow.

  He was before me in an instant, cupping my cheek in his palm. His mouth lacked its usual frown. All things considered, he looked more neutral than upset, but I could sense the tension lurking in his muscles. The dread.

  Adara’s words had cemented something in him, making his posture rigid with resolve.

  I could have danced around the topic, changing the subject to something trivial. Instead, I steeled myself against the discomfort and forced myself to meet it head-on.

  “How much time did you barter for me? In exchange for Raphael’s protection?”

  His narrowed eyes scanned my face with ruthless intent. “I’m not sure you truly want to know the answer to that.”

  “Please,” I whispered. Though he was right.

  “How much?” He stepped up to me, lowering his mouth against my ear. “Enough.” His hand twitched, hovering between us. Uncharacteristic hesitation kept the fingers suspended until, finally, they settled over my belly, remaining in spite of how I flinched. “Enough to ensure that neither Raphael or Mero—or anyone—will ever harm you.”

  “Why?”

  “What else was I supposed to do?” His lips grazed my jaw in an almost apologetic caress. “I tried to protect you on my own. I failed. Should I just sit back and let him…”

  “What if I sold myself to Raphael?” I countered thickly. “How would you feel?”

  He laughed as if too stunned by the idea to take it seriously. Then his eyes narrowed into slits and I had enough sense to shudder. “I would kill you with my bare hands. Nothing would be worth anything he could offer. Nothing.”

  Letting me go, he started across the foyer.

  But I chased after him. “There is something you’re not telling me—”

  “If I had turned you, would you have hated me?” He waited until I’d reached him and then flicked the curls back from my face, his expression unreadable. Regardless, I sensed he required an answer. The truth. “Would you have despised the creature you would have become? Something your sister had been conditioned to despise?”

  “I…” Didn’t know. Mainly because that girl felt like a stranger now, someone I barely even understood. Fearful, doubtful, so determined to deny herself happiness that she’d preferred to await death instead. It had been easier that way; I could admit it now. No hope. No fear of the unknown.

  No joy of what might come.

  “That day after Raphael…” He began. “I knew the second your eyes reopened, still bright with mortality, that something had changed. That, in my impulse, I’d broken some boundary that could never be repaired.”

  And I sensed he wasn’t speaking of me any longer.

  He brushed his lips across my forehead, lingering as if to impart his next confession into my very soul. “Your sister knew. She wouldn’t even let me do the one thing that I thought might save your life unless I agreed to leave you in exchange.”

  I flinched, recalling the strange tension that had grown between Georgie and me.

  “I tried to find Adara,” Dublin continued. “If I had, I could have demanded she fix it. I knew Mero was waiting for me—that he would use any pawn he could to lure me to him. Every waking second, I could hear him hissing in my ear. Reminding me of his goddamn curse. And when I returned, I knew, even as all logic warned me to deny it. He was right.

  “How much one could crave what life could offer, beyond this tormented existence. In a way, perhaps I’d always consoled myself with the belief that ultimately…I could always end it. What did I have left to cherish?” He gripped me tighter, pulling me against him.

  I remained still, letting him hold me.

  “Perhaps I would have surrendered it anyway,” he murmured. “Had I known. The ability to die. To follow you…” He pulled back, turning across the foyer. “Get some sleep. I’ll make you something to eat. Should I prepare the baklava?”

  “Yes,” I whispered hoarsely, letting him retreat alone.

  Something told me that now was not the time to argue.
He needed silence.

  And I needed to allow him that reprieve no matter how my heart twisted in agony.

  Obediently, I went to my room and crawled beneath my blankets, but sleep wouldn’t come. Doubt, that terrible thing, crept into my thoughts, but it felt different than before. Less disembodied and formless.

  More desperate: a warning plea that dragged me into the hall and through the rest of the house.

  Move…move. Move!

  “Dublin?” I called for him to no response as I crept down the staircase in nothing more than a thin nightgown. “Dublin?”

  I kept going, exiting the servant’s wing on bare feet. My breath escaped me in pants as I raced down the walkway in the moonlight, driven faster. Faster. Eventually, I sprinted more than walked. Then ran. The wind nipped at my hair, turning it into a cape that fanned my shoulders as I wound up breathless before a structure that had never seemed more imposing.

  My hand shook as I pushed the door open. Something wouldn’t let me turn around. It was as if a hook had caught the center of my rib cage, tugging me forward ruthlessly.

  A slave to the impulse, I descended the steps, passing the angel. I shivered, venturing deeper. Deeper still.

  Then farther within the mausoleum than I’d ever been, in a section so distant that even Georgie and I had never explored it. Near the final chamber, barely concealed behind another hunched angelic statue lurked a doorway.

  I hadn’t known it even existed: a wide chamber containing a single stone sarcophagus, cut into the heart of the crypt itself.

  A man was lounging outstretched on the stone lid. He glowed as if bathed in moonlight—though I couldn’t make out any windows or entrances. Nonetheless, I had no trouble seeing him in excruciating detail.