“I have to go help them,” Ravenna whispered. She turned to face me. “Evelyn, no matter what happens, stay here. If we should fail, run; find Miyuki and go with her. Your grandmother will find you.”
Before I could stop her, she blurred and reappeared at Tristan’s side.
As Servilia reached Blake with her dagger lifted, Blake grabbed her arm, pulled her body forward and plunged his hand into her ribcage, breaking the bones as he grabbed her heart and ripped it out. He killed her, so easily. He killed her.
It took a moment, but Servilia finally collapsed to her knees. Blake dropped her heart on the cold ground, the sound of which stopped Nero in his tracks. He and Viktor reappeared just as a black mist crept out of Servilia’s mouth and eyes and shadowed Blake’s face.
Every hair on my body stood on edge as Nero screamed in rage and lunged at Blake who seemed to be in some sort of trance. Viktor, Ravenna, and Tristan immediately moved to protect Blake from Nero’s wrath.
You must be the one to kill Nero. Astara’s voice echoed in my mind.
I was still gripping the shard of glass. I walked toward Nero, his back turned to me, facing Viktor and cursing him. It was like I had entered a different world, one in which everything moved in slow motion. I noticed Viktor’s expression as he saw me appear behind Nero. I met Viktor’s eyes, lifted the shard of glass directly behind Nero’s back as Viktor lunged forward toward us.
It must be you. You must be the one to kill Nero.
Just before Viktor reached us, I plunged the shard of glass into Nero’s back, right where I knew his heart would be. Where Bastian’s heart had been. Nero cried out in surprise and agony and pulled the shard of glass out of his back. I didn’t hesitate as I plunged my hand into the wound, broke through his ribcage and found his beating heart.
How am I doing this?
Again, I didn’t hesitate as I gripped his heart and pulled it toward me. As soon as my hand left Nero’s chest cavity, the cold air hit the warm blood, and I dropped his heart on the floor. Viktor stood frozen in front of Nero as Nero’s body collapsed to the floor.
“Evelyn, how—” Viktor’s voice faded as a blackness overcame me.
Chapter Forty-Three
“Evelyn?” Tristan’s voice called from a distance, perhaps another room. My body felt odd, like somehow, I was in a dream, and it had traveled with me. “Evelyn, come on, please wake up.” Someone lifted me with ease.
“Tristan,” I heard Blake’s voice say. “Is she—” Then everything went silent.
I inhaled Blake’s smell as Tristan passed me to him.
“I have to find the Dark Soldiers and Lyle,” Tristan’s voice suddenly broke through again.
“Evelyn, please, wake up,” Blake said quietly. “Viktor, something’s wrong with her.”
Bastian is dead.
“She took in all of Nero’s power, his entire array of abilities, and over a thousand years’ worth of memories. After being an immortal for five minutes, it’s going to take her a few moments to recover,” Viktor replied softly from above me.
“How was she able to do that?” Blake asked. “No new immortal would ever have the strength or the speed.”
Bastian is dead.
“I suspect it may have something to do with Serena,” Viktor replied. We seemed to be moving toward something.
“I’m taking her up to Greyson Manor.”
Bastian is dead.
I was hit by the same force I felt the last time Blake carried me. Just as I thought my body would break under it, everything came to a stop. Someone opened a door, and Blake’s footsteps echoed on the marble floor through the house. He carried me up the stairs and finally, into the Queen Mary and laid me on the familiar bed.
Bastian is dead. You’re the reason someone else is dead.
I didn’t look as he took my hands in his and lifted them to his heart. I didn’t want to see, and I didn’t want to feel. The image of Bastian’s body sprawled on the pavement, blood draining from his chest and pooling around him burned across my mind.
“Evelyn,” Blake said again. His voice was laced with concern. I opened my eyes to glance at him for a moment. His eyes were completely black, and by the look on his face, so were mine.
“Blake,” Tristan called from the entrance hall.
“Go,” I mouthed when he hesitated.
“I’ll be back soon,” he said, kissing my fingertips.
As he left the room, I closed my eyes and remembered how the car window had shattered in front of Servilia and me, the glass flying into us, cutting every inch of our skin. I remembered how Servilia smiled when she killed Bastian. Why had I driven them to town? I should have just brought them here. Viktor, Blake, Tristan, and John would have been able to deal with them. What was Bastian doing in town? Why did he have to be there?
I heard a soft knock on the door and someone tip-toed into the room.
“Love, can I get you anything?” Ravenna sat down on the bed next to me and gently put her hand on my arm.
I didn’t reply. If I stayed really still, no one would talk to me about what happened. No one would ask how Nero and Servilia managed to find their way into Greyhaven, and no one would look at me with accusation stained across their eyes.
“You’re still full of blood, Evelyn. We should get you cleaned up,” Ravenna suggested softly.
When I didn’t answer, she sighed and left the room, not daring to move me or attempt to make me respond. I finally opened my eyes, slowly checking to see if I was alone.
How are you going to face any of them again? You are the reason Bastian is dead.
I thought of the alternative, that Gwenn would have died had I not brought Servilia and Nero into Greyhaven. I clenched my jaw. No matter what I did, everyone around me died, everyone around me turned to ash.
I breathed in deeply and turned to lie on my back, lifting my hands to my face. Beyond all the dried blood, they were completely healed, but they had clearly healed over the shards of glass that had pierced my skin because there were numerous bumps of various sizes and shapes all over my hands and arms. I touched my jeans. They felt damp and sticky from blood and the dirty fountain water, and my sweater had been completely shredded by glass shards.
I shut my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to shut out every thought of Bastian. I took another deep breath, opened my eyes again, stared at the ceiling, and tears trickled down my face onto the pillow.
I lay there for what felt like hours just looking up and not thinking about anything except the misery that had taken over my entire being. The door opened, and someone walked in, but I didn’t bother to look up. I didn’t have the energy to lift my head even if I wanted to.
Blake stepped into my view and sat down next to me. I kept my eyes on the ceiling. He gently moved my arms from around my waist, lifted a pair of metal scissors, and began to cut my torn sweater open. When he was finished, he lifted a pair of metal tweezers and pulled out the remaining shards of glass as gently as he could.
In places where the skin had already healed over, he made a small incision and then pulled the glass out, pressing a cloth against my skin afterward until the skin healed back up. One by one, pieces of glass fell onto the metal plate he was collecting them in. Every time he pulled one out, the sharp pain made me feel alive again.
He didn’t say anything to me when he was finished. He stood up, wrapped his arms around me, and picked me up. As soon as I inhaled his familiar scent, a thick lump formed in my throat. As he walked into the bathroom and sat me down on the edge of the bath while he turned on the water for the shower, I began to cry. In moments, I could barely breathe. Blake picked me up and held me in his arms.
“It’s going to be okay, you’re safe now,” he whispered.
“It’s my fault,” I moaned, barely able to speak at all.
Blake didn’t reply. He probably
knew that no words would comfort me in that moment. Instead, he held me closer, and I felt the familiar serenity pass through me. I rested my cheek against his chest and allowed the feeling to overwhelm me. It was the anesthetic I so desperately needed.
“Evelyn.” His voice broke through the calm that had washed over me. “We need to wash the glass in your hair out.”
I nodded into his chest. I shrugged off the sweater he had cut open earlier. He led me to the shower and got in with me fully clothed.
The hot water hit me, and every wound that hadn’t healed yet stung sweetly. I immersed myself in the pain as he washed the blood and glass out of my hair, whispering to me to stand still while the glass found its way to the drain. I held on to his shoulders and pressed my cheek against his hard chest as he found a few more shards of glass in my arms and removed them gently. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but suddenly the water was no longer flowing, and Blake was wrapping a white towel around my body and pulling me close again. Another wash of serenity hit my veins, and I stumbled slightly. Blake scooped me up into his arms and carried me back to the bedroom. My jeans were soaking, and his tuxedo dripped with water. He set me down next to the bed gently.
“This isn’t your fault” he whispered, his face full of concern.
I shook my head and felt the familiar lump reform in my throat as the hot tears rolled down my face again. “It’s just such a mess, and it’s all my fault,” I said, my voice constricted and thin.
“Evelyn, what happened tonight wasn’t your fault,” he started, but I leaned my head back and looked into his black eyes.
“I let them in,” I admitted.
“But you tried to stop them,” he replied, reading my eyes.
“They had Gwenn,” I said, shaking my head, my throat burning with emotion.
“I would have done the same thing you did tonight,” Blake replied, stroking my wet hair. I looked into his eyes. Would he?
“Serena left a note.” I felt the need to tell him every detail now that I had started.
“Was she there?” Blake asked, turning off the water and wringing out my hair.
“Not outside of Greyhaven, but she was in the town center,” I replied darkly. “She was the one who killed me.” I remembered the moments before my mortal life was forfeit.
Blake’s eyes flashed with anger when he heard that Serena had been the one to kill me.
“After I woke, Bastian carried me away from danger and went back to warn everyone about Nero and Servilia. Servilia killed him.” I swallowed. “Ravenna came to try to get me to safety. After that, I just remember this feeling that I absolutely had to be the one to kill Nero.”
“Evelyn,” he whispered. “This isn’t your fault. This was Serena, it was Nero, it was Servilia.”
I lifted my face to look into his black eyes. I felt the heat of his body through his wet shirt and placed my hand over his chest where his heart was.
Suddenly every cell in my body, every nerve ending, wanted nothing more than to be closer to him. For the first time in my life, I heard a heartbeat quicken as I watched Blake’s lips part and his breathing become shallow. I closed my eyes and leaned my forehead on his chin.
“If something had happened to you___,” I mumbled.
He leaned back and I looked up, into his eyes.
“I will never leave you Evelyn, never.”
Chapter Forty-Four
The sky wept bitter and cold tears on the morning of Bastian’s funeral. I looked out of our window, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath, trying to steady myself and prepare for the miserable day ahead. My only reprieve was Blake, who had been so gentle and kind since the night of the accident, that there was a bit of light in all the darkness.
Blake was already downstairs, and I got dressed, moving in slow motion, my limbs as numb and heavy as if I had just run a mile. My hearing and sight were starting to become less mortal with every passing hour. Even now, the drops of rain were shattering my brain with every passing minute. I clenched my teeth. At least you’re still alive. No matter how hard Blake and Ravenna, and even Tristan, had tried to convince me that Bastian’s death had not been my fault, the fact remained that if I hadn’t left Greyhaven that night, Bastian and the other immortals that had died that night would not be gone now, and I wouldn’t be getting dressed in black and feeling this awful guilt. I hadn’t seen or heard from Gwenn since that night, and I couldn’t bring myself to call her. I was such a coward. Her best friend died trying to save me and I was too scared to call her.
I walked down the stairs, mindlessly staring at the railing as I went, slowing down with every step I took and wishing that I could just lock myself away in the bedroom forever. I found Blake with Tristan and Ravenna. They were seated around the breakfast table. The smell of scrambled eggs made my stomach heave, and I cringed—the last thing I had the energy to do was eat, yet every morning they sat at the breakfast table and waited for me even though not one of them had to eat.
Ravenna looked up and smiled at me. I tried to smile, but it was more of a pained grimace. I sat down next to Blake, and my eyes immediately found a spot on the cherrywood table I could concentrate on and avoid all their eyes, which were on me even now.
“You should eat something,” Blake said quietly, placing his hand over mine. Ravenna and Tristan had somehow accepted the fact that Blake and I had finally given in and were openly showing affection for each other.
I looked at the breakfast spread and shook my head. If I ate now, I would just get sick.
Blake put his coffee mug in front of me. “At least drink something.”
To make him happy, I lifted the hot drink to my lips and took a small sip.
“We should all travel down to the funeral together,” Ravenna said shortly, desperate to break the silence that had arisen with my arrival. She had been feeling just as guilty as I had. She had been on the phone with Tristan when I had left to save Gwenn that night. It turned out the reason Victoria and Tristan had been arguing so much was due to his feelings for Ravenna. It was weird seeing them together, but I guessed it was weird for them to see Blake and me together too.
I leaned back in my chair, the hot coffee mug clenched tightly between my white fingers, and closed my eyes. When would this all feel better? I tried to count the numerous deaths I had witnessed since Serena walked into my life on that sunny day in June the year before last. By the second winter of her arrival, I had only Blake, Tristan, and Ravenna left to me. And maybe Gwenn if she ever forgives you.
“Evelyn,” Blake said, softly placing a croissant on the plate in front of me. “You still have to eat; new immortals desiccate when they don’t.”
“Come on, America, desiccation doesn’t look good on anyone,” Tristan added in a kind and gentle tone.
I nodded and broke a piece of the pastry and tried to chew it as quickly as I could. Things tasted differently since I had become immortal. It was as if everything was more intense, heightened, and bright. I was already moving faster and could hear things throughout the house.
“We should go,” Ravenna said, getting up.
I had been so consumed with my thoughts that I had completely forgotten why we were all dressed in black. Then it hit me like it was brand-new and took my breath away. My stomach clenched, and the blood rushed to my head.
Bastian was being buried in the cold, hard ground today.
Blake helped me out of the chair, realizing that I was back at square one with my grief, and walked me to the car. Ravenna and Tristan followed holding hands.
I looked out of the window as we drove down to the church. The rain pelted down, the world crying today. Slowly we pulled into a parking space at the small church. The immortals had tried their very best to work both the church and the cemetery back into something acceptable after years of derelict abandon, but still, the scene looked hopelessly sorrowful.
The whole town of Greyhaven looked to be there. Black umbrellas dotted the church entrance, swaying against the gusts of wind. The others got out of the car and slammed their doors shut, but I stayed frozen. Childishly, all I really wanted to do was lock my door and stay in here as long as I could.
I watched the raindrops hit the window and listened to the noise the rain made in the silent car. Was I afraid of how the coven would react to me, knowing that I had been the reason Bastian was dead? I didn’t want to go into that church with all its crowded faces and silent eyes.
I looked up and saw Blake waiting outside my door, holding a black umbrella, probably sensing that I needed a minute. But I didn’t need just a minute, I needed forever. I needed forever to try to make up for all the hurt I had caused once again.
After a few minutes passed, he realized that I wasn’t going to attempt to get out of the car. He opened my door, leaned forward, and took my shaking hand in his steady one.
“Do you want to go in?” he asked quietly.
I looked at him and swallowed the lump in my throat. “Not really,” I replied and glanced back at the church.
“You don’t have to do this,” Blake said, his eyes on me.
I sighed and the cold air from outside filtered into the warm car. “But I do have to. Bastian would never forgive me if I didn’t,” I replied, thinking about how Bastian’s last words to me had been a joke about how we would be stuck together for eternity. Now he was dead, and I was alive. I took a deep breath and turned to face Blake. “Why did he have to kill himself for his immortality? If he had just waited a few hours, he could have come back. All he had to do was wait.” I sobbed, thinking about how unfair and unjust the world could be.
“No one comes back from that, Ev. If Servilia had ripped Bastian’s heart out as a mortal, he wouldn’t have been able to return as an immortal.”
My shoulders slumped. “It’s so unfair,” I mumbled.
Before Blake could reply, I unfastened the seat belt and swung my legs out of the door. My feet landed in a cold puddle of water, which filled my black heels. I took a deep breath and stepped out into the rain, feeling my chest tighten. Blake took my hand an instant later and held the umbrella over me, sheltering me from the rain.
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