“I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not.”
His expression clouded over. “Neither was your father until I caught up with him in Turkey. He was clearing out another kiss with such zealous fervor that I recognized in him what I was feeling. Your mother died on that mission when she destroyed my kiss, and then your father was hell-bent on destroying every vampire he could find in order to avenge her.
“What he didn’t know was that I was on a similar mission. I hunted them all down, and he was last of his team. He was the one I wanted the most, because he was the one who gave the order to destroy everything.” He turned his sharp, dangerous eyes to me. “Do you want to know how he and his team killed my family? They wrapped their coffins in silver, then set them alight. They were roasted in there, unable to get out because of your father.”
It dawned on me then why I was in this fucking coffin. “I think you’re taking this a little too far,” I said, my mind scrambling to come up with a way out of this. “You could just kill me if you want kill me. Stop with the theatrics.”
He chuckled, but it sounded dead. “Where’s the fun in that? Vampires are nothing if not theatrical.” He turned to walk away, but paused and faced me once more. “Oh, and your partner, the one I took while you stood there like a dolt? His fear was the best I’d tasted… well, next to your father’s, of course.”
He had killed my partner?
And just like that, I was dragged back to one week ago…
It was a dark night, and we were investigating a call about someone trespassing in a junkyard. We were walking back after making sure the fence was secure, when my partner screamed. Harrold was his name. He screamed, and then the sound was cut off. I’d spun around, my flashlight jumping spasmodically around the old cars, damaged and broken appliances, and scrap metal that was piled up around me. I couldn’t see him… all I could do was hear him. Terror gripped me by the throat, strangling any sounds I would have made…
And then I froze.
I simply turned off the flashlight, shut my eyes, and prayed for Harrold to stop taking those rattling, gasping exhalations.
I blinked rapidly, trying to erase the sounds of my first partner’s final breaths from my memory. “He was a good man,” I growled. “He had a family.”
“He was a human. Disposable. Besides, he was a means to an end. His death got you transferred to PIG, where my darling Faline worked.”
My gaze jumped to her face as she stared down at me. “You knew who I was?”
“The moment you breezed through the door,” she replied. Reaching up, she shut the lid of the coffin, leaving me with nothing but darkness and the screaming in my head. My breathing was an erratic wheeze through my mouth, the humid air I was producing soon making the interior of the coffin even more claustrophobic than it already was.
Forcing myself to calm down, I took shallower breaths, trying to focus on something other than my impending death. I strained my ears, listening for any movement, any tell-tale sound around me, but the satin and thick wood dampened the sound. My only chance to escape would be when they opened the casket again… if they opened the casket again. Knowing my shitty luck, they were already building a fire under this thing and getting the marshmallows ready.
I shifted a little, then paused when I felt something long and hard settle between my shoulder blades. I inhaled, taking in the slight tinge of old leather, then breathed a sigh of relief. Reaver was here… somehow. Honestly, after this, I was going to let the sword sleep in my bed if it wanted to. But how was I supposed to use it with my hands tied behind my back?
Then I remembered…
It would mean binding myself to magic—something I’d sworn I’d never do—but if I didn’t, the only thing I’d be doing in the future would be feeding the worms. I rubbed my thumb along the inside of my hand, feeling the cuts on my fingers. I just hoped the wounds I’d inflicted on the conduit mirror hadn’t coagulated too much. Wrapping my hand gently around the bare blade, I sucked in a hiss as I reopened those cuts. Immediately, Reaver grew warmer under my touch, the steel throbbing in time with my racing pulse. Beneath me, the opal also began to glow as Reaver’s magic poured through me, but the stone flickered a few times before finally extinguishing.
A vibration started coming from the sword, transferring into my body as the frequency increased. It became uncomfortably strong, and I tried to release my fingers from the blade, but I couldn’t let go. Reaver was stuck to my skin, and I grit my teeth against the onslaught. Blood and magic was a dangerous combination, a combination I wouldn’t have ever found out about if I wasn’t about to be murdered by a psycho vampire.
The marrow in the bones of my hands, arms, and shoulders quaked as the shivering steel intensified to the point of pain. Gritting my teeth, I screamed into the pillow, writhing in place. After the longest minute of my life, something cold fell against my side, and I realized the cuffs had fallen away. My arms fell to my sides, the ache in my shoulders acute.
I curled my fingers around Reaver’s hilt, the sword now down at waist level. This fucking blade would creep me out if it wasn’t saving my life.
With my hands unbound and a weapon at my disposal, my fear and anxiety started to ebb away, leaving cold hate and a determination to survive in its place. I steadied
