Chapter 27

When Eliza woke again an hour later, she was only alive for twelve seconds before Holland snapped her neck.

The third time she woke, he let her live for seventeen seconds.

The fourth, nine seconds.

The fifth, Willa stepped in. She lasted twenty-three seconds, begging for mercy while my best friend gripped her heart in her hand and threatened to pull it out. Holland broke her neck to shut her up.

It was sundown by Eliza’s sixth death of the day.

I didn’t stop one of them. I didn’t even try. I didn’t want to.

After the second one, we cleaned Addie up and moved her and Holland onto the couch, where he’d be more comfortable holding her. Willa and Wren cleaned the blood off the floor, and I washed it off my face and hands. I was too afraid to step away for even a moment to change, so I left it soaked into the front of my pajamas.

Between the other deaths, none of us moved. We hardly breathed.

We just waited.

It could take anywhere from a few hours to a few days for a new vampire to wake up. And while I prayed, for Addie’s sake, that she wouldn’t wake up until she was home safe with Holland, I was desperate to know she was okay—that she’d drank enough of Holland’s blood to stay alive.

When the sun was fully down, Wren was the first to move. “We need to get Addie home.”

Holland’s eyes flicked up, landing directly on me. “I need to know if you’d like me to keep her alive.”

I gulped, looking between him and Eliza. I bristled at the thought of him killing her, though whatever feelings I had for her were long gone. She took my best friend’s life. She was no one.

“I’ll take care of her,” I said, black veins rippling beneath my eyes.

He nodded once and adjusted to stand. “Wren, can you help me get her home?”

“Absolutely.”

“I’m coming too,” Willa rasped.

They did not argue.

When they were gone, I grabbed Eliza by her hair and dragged her across the room so she lay in the middle of the living room. I sat cross-legged on the couch in the dark… and I waited.

It was midnight by the time her heart began to beat. She lay weakly on the floor for nineteen seconds before her eyes fluttered open. I watched while she drew in a shaky breath and blinked up at her surroundings, likely surprised that she was still alive this time.

I waited for her to sit up before I spoke. “You killed my best friend.”

She spun toward me, genuine fear flashing on her face. “Sophie.”

I didn’t move. I was covered in shadows, and her senses would be dulled for a few more minutes while her body worked to fully bring her to life.

“Sophie, I didn’t mean to. Believe me,” she cried.

“It looked pretty damn deliberate to me,” I replied.

“Sophie,” she whispered.

I ignored her.

“Did you know that her favorite book was Peter Pan? Did you know she came to Paris because she was left at the altar and has spent the last eight months working her ass off to put herself back together? Did you know she makes the best Mai Tai I’ve ever had? Did you know she has a sister waiting for her back home?”

“Why does any of that matter?” Eliza rasped.

I bristled. “I thought you’d like to know a little about the wonderful person whose life you took. And I suppose I wonder why such a beautiful person had to die while a pathetic waste of space like you gets to keep living.”

She physically recoiled from my words, skittering across the floor.

I stood off the couch. “You see, she was in a relationship with my brother—you know, the kind gentleman who almost tore your head off your shoulders today. He should have, though I suppose even then, our relationship may be unsalvageable. Two hundred years washed down the drain because I let you into my home—because I let myself think I might love you.”

“I lost my temper for a moment,” Eliza tried again, sounding and looking smaller than ever.

I kneeled in front of her. “I did not say you could speak. Rats don’t get a voice.” She snarled in response, and I closed my hand around her throat. Terror flashed in her eyes and she tried to wrench away. I tightened my grip further, reminding her I was just as strong as my brother and I could detach her head from her shoulders if she fought against me. I stared into her eyes, which had made my soul soar hours ago. Now, the sight of them made me want to be sick. “I hope your pain destroys you,” I whispered in her face. “I hope it’s the only thing you can think about until the day you die.”

“Sophie.”

I shoved her back. “Get the fuck out of my life. If I ever see you again, I’ll kill you.”

Only once she was gone did I realize she never tried to apologize. She only made excuses for her actions.