Eventide (Dark Ink Chronicles #3)

Eventide (Dark Ink Chronicles #3) Page 37

“You will not mention her!” he says vehemently. “Do not!”

But my body is released, and Valerian, slowly, moves backward.

I turn and meet his gaze. It’s wide, white, with pinpoint red pupils.

They stare at me with horror and hatred.

I give another command. It comes out of the blue, yet somehow, it’s perfect.

Suffer.

Valerian’s body begins to quiver, and his eyes widen farther still. His face contorts, but not into his vampiric image. He seems to contort into pain.

More.

A sob—male, throaty, and desperate—escapes from him. His body shakes uncontrollably. He drops to the floor. I stand over him, his eyes glaring up at me.

Agony. Fire. Strangulation.

Valerian’s body thrashes uncontrollably; his hands fly to his neck as choking noises gurgle from his throat. Satisfaction courses through me as I watch him writhe in pain, imaginary flames licking his skin. With my mind, I force the delusion on him. Harder. Faster.

“Riley, stop!”

Although I hear the voice, I can’t take my eyes off of Valerian. All the things that go along with finally finding a loved one’s killer run through me. I take pleasure in watching his pain. His anguish. It must be something similar to what my mother experienced when she died. What all of those innocent people experienced. All because of selfish, pathetic Valerian.

On my thigh, a sheath is strapped. I reach for the blade, the silver turning cool in my hand. I envision the silver slipping easily through his flesh. Ending his sorry fucking existence.

“No, chère,” the voice said calmly. “No.”

A hand goes to my shoulder. Gently. Firmly. I look up.

It takes a minute for my mind to register.

The first one I see is Eli.

Behind him, Noah, Phin, Jake, Darius, Gabriel, Seth, and Victorian.

“You can’t kill him,” Victorian says. “No matter that you want to.”

I look down at Valerian. His body is still now, staring up at me. I’m holding him in some sort of weird abstraction without even trying.

“We’ll take him back to my father tonight,” Victorian says, then puts a hand on my shoulder. “It’s over, Riley.”

Eli moves close, almost between Victorian and me.

The two stare off at one another.

“My team and I will accompany you and your brother back to Romania,” Jake Andorra says to Victorian.

Victorian nods, but keeps his gaze locked on to mine. “I must have a word with Riley first,” he says.

“We’ve got him,” Jake says, and grabs Valerian off the floor.

Surprisingly, Victorian looks at Eli. “Do you mind?”

My eyes flash to Eli’s, and I know his answer before he says it.

“Hell yes, I mind. But she doesn’t. Go ahead. And keep your hands to yourself.”

Anger is surfacing inside me, and maybe it’s because I already know what Victorian is about to tell me. Doesn’t matter. I allow him to grasp me by the elbow and lead me out of the dingy little concrete room.

In seconds, we’re outside. The moon hangs low, more than a crescent now, and the air is chilled. A light pours from a single lamp beside the entrance of the facility. It’s enough to cast Victorian’s beautiful face into odd planes and shadows.

“I never wanted Valerian to have you,” he begins. “I tried my best to warn you away, but I was powerless in my tomb. I knew of your lover, and of Valerian’s plan to have him kill your mother.” Anguish forces his features into a frown. “I couldn’t stop him. He’s always been stronger than me. Even entombed.”

He places a hand on my jaw and tilts my head toward him. “I’m sorry, Riley. I wish I could change things. I wish I could bring your mother back.”

My heart eases a bit. Valerian’s power over Victorian is just as easily believed as his power over me. “I understand, Vic.” I place my hand over his, at my jaw. “It’s okay.” It’s not okay, but it’s not Vic’s fault. I know that.

“I’ll make sure his punishment is delivered,” he says. “I vow it.”

I nod. “Multumesc.”

Victorian cocks his head. “My native tongue sounds good”—he smiles—“on your tongue.”

I softly laugh. “Perv.”

His eyes soften. “I wish I could keep you,” he says. “I’ve loved you your whole life. Ever since you were a child. I…wish you’d choose me over him.”

I sigh. “Victorian, don’t.”

Beneath the moonlight, he looks at me. Sincerity gleams in his inhuman eyes. “Promise me something, Riley Poe.”

I look up at him. Waiting.

He smiles when I don’t readily agree. “Promise me that if ever there’s a time when you tire of him, you’ll call me.” He kisses my cheek, and pulls back and pins me with a steady gaze. “I will wait for you.”

I hold my gaze to his, too. “I’ve always been drawn to you, Vic. I’ve never been able to explain it to myself, but I have.” I smile. “Don’t take this the wrong way,” I say, and wrap my arms around his neck. “Take care.” I hug him hard. “E-mail me.”

I feel his body quake with laughter. “We’re vampires, Riley,” he says, pulling back and smiling. “No need to e-mail when you can cyber chat”—he taps my temple—“here.”

“As long as you stay out of the personal info,” I remind him. “And no dirty talking.”

Victorian shrugs. “I’m still a man. That is a promise I cannot make.”

I laugh, and turn to leave. “Be careful, Vic—”

I’m grabbed by the arm and swung quickly and determinedly into Victorian’s embrace. His mouth descends upon mine in a fervent kiss so fast, my head spins.

Literally.

Just as fast, he releases me.

“Sorry,” he says, backing away. “I couldn’t help myself.”

I simply shake my head.

Valerian is tethered and within the hour is taken away by Victorian, Jake, and the others. Eli, Phin, and Seth remain behind.

“There are more out there,” Phin says grimly. His eyes glisten in the light of the moon. “It’ll take time to collect them.”

“At least Valerian won’t be able to manipulate their minds,” Seth says.

“There is that,” Eli says. He looks at me. “Ready?”

I glance around me, at the facility. At the island. “Yeah. I am.”

Seth drapes an arm over my shoulder. “You’ve got some wicked tendencies, Ri,” he says. “Do you even remember what you were doing to Valerian?”

I think about it. “Not really.”

“That’ll come,” Phin says. “You’ll learn more control over time.”

“And flexion of your mind muscles,” adds Eli. He grins. “Good thing you have more time now.”

I hug my brother and look sideways at him as we walk to the skiff. It’s hard to believe that a few short months ago, he was experiencing a quickening. Floating to the top of his room, for God’s sake. So much has changed.

We’ve all changed.

The ride back to the mainland is a fast one. It’s early—too early—to visit with Preacher and Estelle, or Nyx. Phin and Seth step out of the Jeep as we park on the merchant’s drive behind Inksomnia. Just as we near the door, Eli pulls me to a stop.

“Wait,” he says. “I’ve got something to show you.”

I glance at Seth and Phin and shrug. “Later.”

They both grin and head inside.

Eli links his fingers through mine and we get back into the Jeep.

“How tired are you?” he asks, and the tone in his voice makes me shiver.

“Not tired at all,” I answer.

We take off across Bay Street and down Abercorn.

For the first time in months, I notice a particular ease in the air. The chill is right. The crisp is right. The rustle of leaves is right.

Being beside Eli Dupré is even more right.

Twenty minutes from downtown and just off Waters Avenue, across from the old white concrete Cresthill Baptist Church, Eli turns down Beckman Avenue. It’s an older residential street, with houses built in the forties and fifties. Some a little newer. Some ways down, Eli turns in to a corner lot and stops the Jeep. The drive is a half circle lined with aged azalea bushes that are probably gorgeous in the spring when in full bloom. The house is an older concrete block house, single story, with several tall pine trees towering overhead. A wooden swing sits suspended between two of them. I glance at Eli.

“What’s this?” I ask.

A crooked grin splits Eli’s face in two, and for a moment, he’s not a vampire. He’s a mischievous guy up to something.

I guess he can be both.

Eli’s gaze lingers on my mouth, then meets my eyes. “My new house.”

I feel my eyes bug out. “Are you serious?” I glance back at the older home, then back to Eli. “Really?”

He shrugs. “I met a man once, years ago. He’d just returned from the war—as in World War Two—and had started working for the electric company. He had a sweet wife named Frances and a beautiful baby daughter named Dale. I watched him one day break up a fight between two mean-asses who’d jumped this skinny kid. Cracked the two bullies’ heads together. Knocked them senseless.” Eli’s gaze moves from mine to a place above me, and he concentrates as he pulls the memory back. He smiles. “His name was Wimpy. He gave me a job making hush puppies.” He inclines his head toward the concrete house. “He built this. Raised a family here. Had three more children. He helped build that church back there.” Eli slips from the Jeep and walks around to my side. “I watched his little blond-haired granddaughter, Cindy, come here every single summer and swing on that swing.” He points to where it was. “She had a little friend just down the road and they’d play together nearly every day. Cindy and Julie. They were inseparable.”