“Where are you going?” She lifted up her flute of champagne, ready to drink it.
“Wherever you want me to go.”
After the visit from the soul-collector, a restlessness invaded. She was certain the soul-collector only wished to cause mischief, but if what he said was the truth, she needed to act, and fast. The fact that Drayton had freed Ella as soon as he had was bothersome. I should have killed him when I had the chance. Strutting around the room, she finished her drink and placed it back on the table. No matter; she held the witch’s magic and with it, she would be merciless in getting what she wanted. It was time to wake her servant up and finish this. Soon the soul-shifter would be hers for good, and the devil would leave her alone. The Morrigan knew the woman would sacrifice anything to keep her son safe. “Get dressed. We’re going hunting up north.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Ella lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. The tears had stopped. A numbness lingered as she recalled the last past three months in her mind. Since the handfasting ceremony that never took place, and Steel’s death, it had been one nightmare after another. Flipping onto her side, she glanced out at the dawn sky, listening to the birds chirping in the trees outside. She was a married woman, mated to Marcus, and yet she had never felt more alone in her life.
Steel was dead, her friend had betrayed her, and where the hell was Isabella? The world was crumbling around her. Knowing she wouldn’t sleep, she slipped out of bed, naked, and pulled her nightgown off the hook from the back of the door to head into the hallway. Taking a few steps inside Nate’s makeshift nursery, she checked that he was comfortable and sound asleep. Careful not to wake him, she tiptoed outside and headed downstairs. Despite it being spring, when she stepped barefoot on the tiled floor in the kitchen, she shivered. Deciding to make some tea, she filled the kettle and flicked the switch, grabbing what she needed from the overhead cupboards, thinking about what she needed to do.
After learning from Zephra that Marcus had been poisoned by the Morrigan, she conceded he was a victim of that bitch and her mind games, but she still couldn’t bring herself to reach out to him. Her soulmate had slept with another woman, and it hurt. She clutched her chest, feeling the pain deep inside her heart. The fact it was the Morrigan made it more unbearable. She rubbed the sides of her head with her fingers, massaging the skin, questioning if the roles were reversed, how she would have expected Marcus to respond and knew she had fallen short.
I know it isn’t his fault.
The only person who deserved her anger and hatred was the Morrigan. Remembering the way she had manipulated her at the doctor’s and used her magic to render her helpless, she conceded Marcus had been powerless to resist. But still, she couldn’t help but wonder whether he had enjoyed the sex. It was that question that left a bitter taste, making her want to crush the goddess like a cockroach.
The kettle boiled and she poured the steaming water into her mug, adding the sachet of lemon tea, and lifted it to sip the hot brew. A prickling sense of not being alone made her swing around. Her heart slammed against her chest, pounding away as adrenaline surged through her veins. Standing there was an enemy from the past. Her mug slipped through her hands, shattering on the tiles.
“Gabriel—what are you doing here?” she bit out, leaving the jagged remains where they lay. The last time she had set eyes on him was at the handfasting and before that, back in the nineteenth century, where he had left her to be tortured as Lady Elizabeth Dempsey.
Ella had not detected the vampire until he stood a couple of feet away, her ability to sense other creatures diminished. His proximity added to her anxiety as the vampire stood with his head cocked to the side, studying a picture. She snatched the frame from his hands. It was one of her wedding photographs.
His head snapped up to glare at her, up and down. “So, it is you. I wasn’t sure at the wedding. I’d heard rumors about you and Drayton, but even so, I needed to know for certain. You don’t look the same as when we last met, Lady Dempsey. But then again, neither does he.”
Ella held the picture, casting a glance sideways at her cell phone, which flashed with a message from Marcus. She switched her focus back on the devious vampire, not wanting to draw his attention to it.
“I didn’t get the chance last time for a proper introduction, what with the party crashers and all. And while I know the Morrigan has acquired your identity outwardly, I wondered if it were true that she possesses your magic?” The vamp lunged, grabbing her throat and digging in his sharp nails.
Caught by him, she struggled to breathe. Grabbing his hands, she dug her nails in to remove his hold, but it was useless. He was much stronger than she was. Nate is upstairs. Fight. But as she struggled against him, a sense of futility rose, knowing her magic was not the same any longer. She called out to
