From here I can see right through the kitchen, part of the living room to the front door. Ethan is still knocking, but no one is answering.
I push back the venetian blinds and step into the kitchen. My sneakers squeak on the linoleum. The kitchen is silent and dark around me, with only the hum of the refrigerator purring in the background. I squeeze the orange ball of cotton and herbs in my hand, nervously. My heart is pounding so hard I feel sick, nausea rubbing against the base of my throat.
With a shaking hand, I place the bag on the center of the floor. “A-rook—”
A hand closes over my throat, cutting off my voice. I’m pulled off the kitchen floor and hauled into the air so that my feet dangle.
A man snarls into my face and a crushing sense of déjà vu overtakes me.
“I remember you,” he says, hesitating. He hauls me down to his level, his black eyes boring into mine. His breath is hot, and rank. His fangs glistening in the light from the kitchen window.
“Did you father a bastard, Henry?” a cool voice says.
“It looks like it,” he says. “Did they think you’d distract me? Thought my blood in your veins would be enough to override the magic I have on this place?”
Dawning horror spreads through my chest. Liars. All liars. Dr. Grange. Ethan Benedict. They didn’t want me to go in because I knew Katie, or because I’d been invited into the house when I was human, or even because I’m a living vampire and therefore not locked out by the same magic they are. I was sent in because I had Henry’s virus in my veins. And where Henry could go, I could go.
“I see the disappointment and anger on your face,” Henry says. “You should be angry. Did they tell you I’m the monster? I’m nothing compared to the fucking masterpiece who calls himself Ethan Benedict. If you’re looking for a monster, a truly fucked up soul, look no further.”
My feet graze the linoleum just as sparks start behind my eyes. I’m going to pass out. Vampire or not, if I don’t get some air into my lungs, I’m going to pass out right now.
A shadow appears behind Henry a second before he’s thrown into me. Not a shadow. Liam, moving so fast that when our bodies collide, I’m knocked clear across the kitchen. There’s a moment of weightlessness. Henry lets go of me in order to gain control of his own body.
For this reason he is able to land on all fours against the wall, squatting against it the way a fly might, with no regard for gravity.
I, on the other hand, go straight through the table. It breaks into pieces beneath my weight.
Liam slams his palm down over the orange bag and screams. “Eructo!”
The house explodes.
Or at least, it feels that way.
Everyone is blown from the kitchen. Me, Liam, Henry, and Richard—no one is spared. We are expelled through the very walls as if that is the quickest way to eject us from the building.
I tumble across the lawn, praying I don’t land on my neck. Something cracks in my arm, and I cry out. A body wraps around me, cushioning my blow. When we come to a stop in the middle of the damp grass, it’s Liam who is beneath me. His back shoved into the ground.
A gash across his cheek is bleeding. But before I can even point it out, the wound is closing before my eyes.
“Thank you,” I breathe.
“You broke your shoulder,” he says, coming up onto one arm. Another movement—so fast I barely see it—I end up on my side, with Liam looking over me. “Take a breath.”
“Wh—?”
A sharp pain shoots through me before I can actually get the why out of my mouth.
His sour expression softens for only a second. “I had to set it before the bone grew back. Rebreaking bones just right so you can reset them is a messy business.”
He holds the shoulder tightly in place for a moment, slowly releasing the pressure. “There.”
I rotate my shoulder and see that if it was in fact broken, it is fine now. Tender to the touch, but movable.
A scream, full of rage and fear, erupts in the night.
“Wait!” Liam says, seizing my hand when I start running toward the sound.
“You aren’t just trying to help me,” I say, aware of how accusatory my voice is. “They want you to keep me away.”
“You don’t want to see this.”
But I’m done listening to excuses. They lied to me. They all did. I was sent in as bait, so that Liam could be the real hero. And that’s just the best-case scenario. Because as much as I hate to admit it, Henry could’ve been right. I don’t know these people. I don’t understand the situation. What if they’re all monsters and I’m the fool?
I rush up between the duplexes toward the front yard. Liam doesn’t stop me, though no doubt he could. I’ve seen how fast he can move.
In the front yard, Dr. Grange has her hand halfway through Richard’s head. Blood and brains run down her arm, soaking into the white cuff of her sleeve. Her fangs are buried deep into his throat. She’s sucking him dry. Ruthlessly.
“Penelope,” Ethan says. His voice a low warning growl.
She drops Richard unceremoniously. “For Josephine.”
She moves toward Henry.
Benedict blocks her. “He’s for Vendetta. She deserves her retribution, too.”
Dr. Grange turns away, visibly shaking with either adrenaline or rage.
“You lied to me,” I say, marching across the yard. “All that bullshit about being Katie’s friend and a living vampire, it was all bullshit. You used me as bait. You used me.”
“They did and—” Henry begins but one flex of Ethan’s hand and he falls silent. His face bulging.
“We had to get them out,” Ethan says calmly. “I will not deny I was prepared to use any means necessary.”
Henry sags unconscious in Ethan’s embrace. Ethan still doesn’t let go.
“If you want answers,” Ethan says quietly. “You can come with Penelope and me. But if you do not trust us, you can leave Castle Cove tonight. We will not stop you.”
I weigh his words.
“But if you come with us, you will be one of us, do you understand? If you betray what we show you, you will be just as dead as this man.”
He points to the desecrated remains of Richard, bloody and busted in Katie’s front yard.
Choice 26
Go with Ethan and Dr. Grange
Leave Castle Cove
Go with Ethan and Dr. Grange
“I’m coming with you.” My heart pounds in my chest. But I follow them to the car, walking right past Richard, or what’s left of him. “Are you just going to leave him in the yard like that?”
“He can’t resurrect,” Liam explains, and I realize he’s fallen into step beside me. “And it’ll be sunlight soon. Dawn will take care of what’s left.”
Right. Ashes to ashes and all that.
“I can’t enter the temple like this,” Dr. Grange says. “I’ll meet you there.”
“Trade cars with me,” Ethan says.
This makes sense because the Roadster doesn’t have a backseat. How else would the four of us—Henry, Ethan, Liam and I—travel together if not in the SUV?
Dr. Grange takes the keys without comment, climbing into the Roadster as if she isn’t covered in blood from mouth to sternum. I think of the way Greg used to get upset if someone ate in his car. The sight of Dr. Grange in the Roadster would’ve made him lose his mind.
Liam opens the passenger door of the BMW for me.
“What temple?” I ask, sliding in.
“Vendetta’s resting place,” Ethan says. “We will answer your questions soon, for now, please watch what you say.”
I take that as a direct instruction to zip my lips.
“I want you to drive, Liam,” Ethan says. “I will sit in the back with Henry.”
Liam takes the keys as I climb inside, closing the door behind me. My foot touches the cold ceramic mug I left behind before I got out.
I look at the duplex, at the gaping holes in the front of the house and
the shredded wood and concrete in the side yard.
“What happened to Katie?” I ask.
“They likely buried her in Vendetta Heights,” Ethan says, his voice gentle from the backseat.
I don’t say anything else as Dr. Grange pulls away first, driving in the opposite direction of the SUV.
The silence presses in on the car from all sides as we drive through the dark streets, only a few feet of the road illuminated by the headlights. I take in the bright moon, the smell of the ocean.
I think we’re heading to the interstate. We take Midnight Pass to Canyon Road, but once we reach the Heights, Liam slows the car.
He turns left, seemingly into nowhere.
But it is somewhere. A dark road is barely visible through a thick foliage covering it.
Branches scrape along the side of the BMW as Liam creeps through onto the path. And it is little more than a path. The large tires bump along the road for what seems like miles. The woods are so close to the car, it’s got to be a one-way road.
When my claustrophobia reaches an all-time high and I’m on the verge of speaking up, the trees break open. An enormous Spanish Villa appears out of nowhere. The lights turn on the moment the tires hit the paved drive. It looks like a mansion fit for a Hollywood starlet.
“This is my home,” Ethan explains.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Thank you.” The humble simplicity of his response surprises me. Not a hint of arrogance in it.
Liam parks in the circle drive, and we climb out.
I can smell the ocean so strongly here. And for good reason. Just a couple of steps away from the lit house reveals me how close we are to the water.
We are on a cliff, overlooking miles of black sea. The moon is impossibly large in the sky. In the distance, on an opposite cliff, sits Castle Cove proper.
I realize that it would be impossible to see this home unless someone was standing in Castle Ruins Park after dark and saw the lights.
“Come inside,” Ethan says. “Are you hungry?”
I am. But I’m embarrassed to say so.
“Liam, can you help our guest settle in while I prepare Henry? You should clean up too.”
Liam acknowledges him with the smallest of nods. To me he says, “Come on.”
We enter through the front, through a foyer that I couldn’t possibly imagine owning in all my life. The ceiling is impossibly high, the renaissance stucco overtaking every inch of it.
More windows let in the moonlight, and the centerpiece, a grand staircase leading to a second level.
“Through here,” Liam says, leading me straight through to the back of the house, past the stairs.
“Ethan doesn’t keep donors here,” he says. “But he has blood packs.”
“Of course.”
The door he pushes open leads into a French country kitchen. Complete with old world tile and archways. He opens the fridge and fishes out two packs.
“While I heat these, you’ll want to step into that bathroom and clean yourself up. You don’t have to be spotless or anything to enter the tomb, but you should be presentable.”
I don’t understand what he means until I step into the bathroom and see myself. Yikes.
Getting blown through a wall does leave one looking a little ragged. I wash my hands and face, cleaning the dirt from my nails. I use a cloth to sponge off the rest. I find a comb in the drawer and run it through my hair until most of the wood chips and sawdust come out. My clothes are mostly clean, but I still use a wet cloth to dab at the worst spots.
When I step out of the bathroom, Liam nods his approval. “Much better.”
He slides a wine glass into my hands. It’s hot against my palm. Almost too hot to hold.
He finishes his in a single swallow and excuses himself to the bathroom.
And there I am, in this strange mansion, with these strange men, wondering where the hell my life went in the last couple of days. Talk about a derailment.
I lean against the counter, listening to the water turn on and off behind the closed bathroom door. I sip the blood, which is very good, and consider all that’s happened.
I hope Vendetta and this tomb they speak of will really give me the answers I seek.
I hear footsteps on the marble floor before Ethan steps into the kitchen. He’s snapping a cufflink closed on a fresh dress shirt. He’s cleaned up too. And I suddenly feel like maybe we’re going to meet someone’s rich grandmother or something.
“Do not be nervous,” Ethan assures me with a brief smile. “She brought you here, made sure you survived the change. She would not have done so if you weren’t meant to be with us.”
He takes another step toward me and another until my back is pressing into the side of the counter very slowly. He reaches forward and cups my cheek. Electricity runs through me, collecting between my legs. I’m certain the heat in my face is going to set his hand on fire. It only worsens when he drags one thumb across my lips.
He pulls back, and sucks on his bloodied thumb. His eyes never leave mine.
If I wasn’t holding on to the counter, I might’ve fallen down right here.
The bathroom door opens, and Liam steps out. He freezes, his open expression visibly hardening.
“Don’t be jealous, my love,” Ethan says without turning around. “We can’t have her entering the tomb with bloody lips. It might be enough to wake Vendetta, as pretty as this one is.”
“You were just trying to help?” Liam asks, in disbelief. “I can smell her fear from here.”
My love. So they’re lovers. Or were?
“Just her fear?” Ethan asks with a wanton smile. His eyes never leave my face. “I think I smell something…sweeter.”
Liam looks away, cocking his head. He says, “Dr. Grange just turned off of Midnight Pass.”
“Another time then,” Ethan says, reluctantly stepping away from me, leaving Liam and I alone in the kitchen. Liam looks ready to say something. But his jaw clenches and he turns away.
We are all on the porch when the Roadster pulls up behind the SUV. Dr. Grange steps out wearing clean clothes and her hair in a tight bun again.
“Where’s Henry?” I ask.
“He’s already in the tomb,” Ethan says.
“Is that wise?” Dr. Grange asks, coming up the steps to meet us. “Isn’t that what he wanted?”
“He’s bound, and even if he wasn’t, he would be no match for her.”
That mysterious her again. This Vendetta.
“Come on then, we only have two hours of moonlight left.”
Ethan leads us back into the house, through a large open entryway. A study with books from floor to ceiling and highbacked chairs. In the middle of the room he walks up to a fireplace. On each side of the fireplace sit carved panthers, made of some kind of black stone. He places his hand on the head of the right one, just so, and the stone fireplace shifts. A passageway is revealed just on the other side of the flames.
“The flame will not burn you,” Ethan says before stepping right over it himself.
“After you,” Liam says into my ear, and a shiver slides along my skin.
I pass over the fire as quickly as possible, hoping this isn’t some kind of vampire hazing, or an elaborate way to dispose of my body.
But the flames are cold, not hot. And I pass through just fine.
When the fireplace closes behind Liam, groaning as it clicks into place, torches ignite along the walls.
Ethan has already disappeared down the spiral staircase. I hurry to catch up. The air grows noticeable colder as we continue to descend. Two floors? Four? Ten? I can’t tell. But we must be underground, inside the seaside cliffs.
When I reach the last step, I gasp.
The walkway is beautiful cut stone leading to a sarcophagus in the center of the room. Ethan is leaning over it, cooing sweetly to whatever lies inside. While Henry remains bound a few feet from it.
But I barely notice the man shackled and bound at the feet of t
he tomb. I’m drawn to the walls. The elaborate stone carvings that clearly tell a story, Vendetta’s story, the way old tombs immortalized the victories and failures of Greek gods.
This is a holy place.
“Go on,” Dr. Grange encourages, placing a gentle hand at my back.
“I shouldn’t be here.”
“Don’t be shy,” Ethan says. “Come forward.”
I do, hyperaware of the way my steps echo off the stone walls. When I pass Henry, he lunges, but the chains only shorten, dragging him back onto all fours on the floor.
“Come on,” Ethan coaxes again, and I step around Henry. He’s motioning for me to look into the sarcophagus.
Just before I peer over the edge, it begins to groan. I step back with a shriek, convinced that this is a trick. They’re going to shove me inside and let me rot.
Ethan is smiling. “It lifts the platform to the top. You’ll see. Should something happen to me or this house, this was created to seal itself shut, become impenetrable. It could fall to the bottom of the ocean and not a single drop of water would get inside. And she could lay there for all eternity until the end of the world if she wanted. Or she could open it.”
Vendetta must be as strong as a god then, if Ethan believes she could push off this stone lid by herself.
The platform stops rising. Upon it lays the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Snow White, with crimson lips and black hair that reaches the tops of her thighs.
“He wants you for himself,” Ethan whispers to her. She’s so vibrant, so fresh and alive that she could be sleeping. “He wants your power.”
“It isn’t fair that you should have her,” Henry hisses from the floor where he kneels. “Leeching her power as you do. We know why you’re the strongest! You drink from her! You use her like a whore!”
Apparently, this is enough to incense Vendetta because flames leap up around Henry, engulfing him. The screams are impossibly loud, building against the stone walls and growing, layering on top of one another.
Welcome to Castle Cove Page 11
