15. As Dark as Her Maker’s Heart

CHAPTER 15

As Dark as Her Maker's Heart

" T he Earth Elf died cleanly." Brynleigh's back was straight, her stance was wide, and her hands were clasped behind her. She was the perfect image of a dutiful progeny reporting to her Maker. "I dealt with him in The Rosewood, as requested."

Jelisette sat in front of the chess board in the safe house's living room, her hands clasped beneath her chin as she studied the game intently. Her silky maroon blouse covered her arms—and her Binding Mark, apparently.

Brynleigh still had trouble believing her Maker had hidden a Binding. She tried not to dwell on that because she feared that if she did, she might start asking questions that would land her in even more trouble.

Instead, she pinched her mouth shut and waited for Jelisette to look up.

She could be here for a while.

Once, Brynleigh's sire had made her wait all night before acknowledging her. She hoped that wouldn't be the case tonight. She was tired and wanted to leave as quickly as possible.

Jelisette didn't even look up as she moved her rook forward. She spun the board around, humming to herself as she studied the game from another angle.

Minutes went by. Ten. Twenty. Forty-five.

Brynleigh was a statue. Moving would only incite her Maker's ire.

Chess pieces slowly filtered off the board. Black was winning, but several paths to victory existed for both sides.

When nearly an hour had passed, Jelisette picked up a pawn and moved it forward two spaces.

"Very good." She spoke as though she hadn't just made Brynleigh wait an ungodly amount of time. "I sent the crew to clean up after you."

She spun the board again and went back to studying the game.

Gods damn it. At this rate, Brynleigh would be here all night.

Her lips tingled, but she refused to think about Ryker. She couldn't afford any distractions right now.

Forcing the handsome fae captain from her mind, her gaze moved studiously through the room. She drank in every detail, dedicating them to memory. She would sort through them later, searching for signs that Jelisette was working with the Black Night.

Eventually, the older vampire pushed back from the table. She stood, her movements fluid with immortal vampiric grace, and tilted her head.

"Come to my study."

Jelisette stepped into the Void without waiting to see if her command had been heard. She didn't need to. Brynleigh was her progeny, and she would obey her.

At least, that was how Maker bonds were meant to work.

Brynleigh wasn't sure if it was because of her time in the Choosing, her attachment to Ryker, or the fact that her heart twisted in knots when she thought about Jelisette's multiple betrayals and lies, but the Maker bond didn't seem as strong as it used to be.

In the past, when vampires were allowed to draw blood directly from Sources, Makers could summon their progeny through the bond. That was one of the many gifts vampires no longer had access to, thanks to the "humane" blood banks.

For once, Brynleigh was grateful that the Representatives had placed strict laws over vampires. The less control her Maker had over her, the better.

Less than a minute after Jelisette vanished into the darkness, Brynleigh released her shadows. Calling on the moon goddess's magic was as easy as drawing breath, and she moved through the Void with the ease of stepping from one place to the next.

Brynleigh landed in front of Jelisette's desk, where her Maker pressed a phone against her ear.

Jelisette was scribbling on a piece of paper. She didn't even look up as the younger vampire arrived, instead lifting a finger in the air.

Brynleigh barely bit back a sigh.

Back to waiting.

Shadows rippled around the desk, and a tingle of magic swept over the younger vampire's skin. Even though her Maker's lips moved, Brynleigh couldn't hear a thing. Many vampires used privacy wards to create walls of magic that blocked all sound from coming through.

Instead of expending her energy on the fruitless endeavor of trying to hear what her Maker was saying, Brynleigh assessed this space much like the last.

The only door was at her back. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves took up space on two walls, crammed with leather-bound books. A famous painting, The Weeping Widow, covered the only window, blocking all light from the shadowy space.

The artist's dark depiction made Brynleigh's blood run cold. A naked, bloody human woman knelt in a crimson pool. Her hands were outstretched to the heavens. A silent scream contorted her features, and tears flowed down her face. The background was a swirl of scarlet and black, as if the sky was bleeding .

Brynleigh had always hated that painting and how the woman looked like her heart had been ripped from her chest.

She tore her gaze away from it, refocusing on the desk. A solitary green lamp illuminated the papers strewn over the wooden surface. A quill sat next to an ink pot; both remnants of times passed. The carpet was crimson beneath Brynleigh's feet.

It was dark, just like her Maker's heart.

Other than the phone still pressed against Jelisette's ear, the room was technology-free. The older vampire had often said that while she understood the value of computers, she didn't like them. She'd avoided using technology as much as possible, and she forced Zanri to keep all their electronics in his office in the safe house.

Several minutes later, Jelisette hung up the phone and closed the folder. Waving a hand, she dismantled the ward and looked at Brynleigh. The young vampire barely suppressed a shiver.

Jelisette interwove her hands together, rested her elbows on the wood, and cradled her chin on her intertwined fingers.

"Tell me, daughter of my blood, why did your husband release you from The Pit?" The words were silky-soft but laced with an unmasked threat of violence.

Brynleigh's skin pricked. Maybe she should've spent more time trying to hear through the ward. Who had been on the call?

She swallowed, twisting her fingers in front of her for half a second before realizing that was a nervous tell. She stopped and forced herself to remain calm.

Chances were, Jelisette didn't know about the deal.

Brynleigh would make sure it remained that way. The last thing she wanted to do was betray Ryker's trust just as she was regaining it.

But she had to tell her Maker something.

Brynleigh rapidly formed a plan. It wasn't great, and honestly, it could very well turn sideways on her, but it was still a plan. And that was… good.

Well.

Good might be an overstatement, but it was a plan .

She wouldn't betray Ryker. Instead, she would use her knowledge of her Maker's involvement in the Black Night, infiltrate the rebels' ranks, and use the information she received to win Ryker back.

Imagining how pleased he'd be when she provided him with detailed information about the rebels, Brynleigh decided this was the best course of action.

"The fae captain is a sentimental fool." She willed her face to be blank despite the pain the words caused her.

"Oh?" Jelisette raised a manicured brow.

Brynleigh's heart twisted, and she nodded. "Yes, and he believes in love, so he bargained to get me out of prison."

After your actions landed me there in the first place .

Brynleigh didn't say those words, but she wished she could.

Jelisette propped her chin on her hand and studied her progeny. She didn't look a day over thirty, except for her eyes. Her dark gaze was like looking at death itself. Brynleigh had seen killers with warmer expressions than the one currently surveying her.

Her Maker asked, "He loves you?"

He used to. Brynleigh wasn't sure if Ryker felt that way now, but she wouldn't say that, either.

"Yes."

"And how do you feel about him?"

This would be the hard part. Brynleigh wanted to shout her love for the captain from the rooftops, but she was under no false pretenses about where she stood with Jelisette. Doing that would get her killed.

"I have no feelings for Ryker Waterborn." The words burned like acid at the back of Brynleigh's throat. "He was, and still is, my mark."

Lies, lies, lies.

Her heart raced in her chest. She eyed her Maker, watching for any reaction at all.

"I see," was Jelisette's monotone response.

Did she? Brynleigh was walking a dangerous path, spinning a web of deceit. She couldn't find it in herself to feel bad about it, though. After all, Jelisette had lied to her for years. It was her turn to be on the other end of things.

Since Brynleigh's throat was still intact, she continued with the next step of her plan.

"I'm playing him." She approached the desk and placed her palms flat on the wooden surface. "I know I was supposed to kill him, but it turns out that one Representative isn't enough."

The smallest semblance of a smile crept onto Jelisette's face, and she made a noncommittal sound.

Brynleigh had to be careful. She had to leave enough breadcrumbs so that Jelisette would trust her but not enough so that her Maker would be suspicious that this change of heart came too fast.

"I want to hurt them all. Do something that would forever alter the Republic of Balance."

More lies.

She didn't like the way the Representatives ran the Republic, but it was apparent the rebels were no better than them.

Drawing in a deep breath, Brynleigh spoke the one sentence that would either be the cause of her death or the gateway to her freedom.

"I want to find the rebels and join their cause. They want to hurt the Representatives, and I want the same thing." Again, with the lies. If Brynleigh had a penny for every falsehood she uttered in Jelisette's presence tonight, she'd be rich. "I still want revenge for my family."

Her shadows throbbed in her veins, desiring to come out and protect her, but she held them in. She'd placed all her cards on the table, and now, she would wait.

This wasn't a moment for a show of force but of submission.

Eyes made of pure onyx ice drilled into Brynleigh's. Jelisette tapped her index finger on her chin. The movement caused her sleeve to inch down, revealing a sliver of the black band wrapped around her wrist.

The Binding Mark .

It took everything in Brynleigh's power not to react.

"And how does your fae captain feel about all this?" Jelisette eventually asked.

That was a good question.

If Ryker knew what Brynleigh was proposing, he'd be outraged. But he didn't know. Besides, she was doing this for him.

"He has no feelings about it because I'm keeping him in the dark." Truth. "It's not that difficult. Men are… easily swayed. Besides, he thinks since I was Made, I'm weak."

Another lie, although there were bits of truth nestled within those words. Even though Brynleigh knew Ryker thought she was strong, others in the Republic of Balance looked down on vampires because they were gifted with, not born into, their magic.

"Does he now?" The silky smoothness of Jelisette's voice deepened, and she canted her head.

One moment, the deadly vampire was behind the desk. The next, thick, unnatural darkness shrouded the room.

Brynleigh went to scream, but no sound came out. Sharp nails dug into her throat, compressing her airway.

With vampiric strength, Jelisette lifted her progeny off the ground and squeezed .

Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods.

Maybe Brynleigh had miscalculated. She stiffened, her heart a mallet pounding against her chest as she tried to remain calm.

It wasn't fucking working. Calmness was a distant dream.

Brynleigh's palms slickened.

Pressure built, built, built behind her eyes.

Her lungs squeezed as they tried—and failed—to draw air.

She flexed her fingers, wanting to reach up and pull those nails out of her throat, but she didn't dare do that.

Not yet.

Giving in now would only prove to Jelisette that she was weak and untrustworthy.

So, Brynleigh remained still, even as those sharpened nails sank deeper. At first, they were needles, but soon, each one was a knife digging into her tender skin.

Brynleigh didn't dare move. She wanted to keep her head, thank you very much.

The scent of copper grew stronger, wet rivulets trickling down her neck.

Her shadows throbbed in warning. Her head spun. Her fangs ached.

Death's cool eyes drilled into the back of Brynleigh's neck.

"Are you lying to me, daughter of my blood?" The question was soft, like a feather wrapped in velvet.

Brynleigh tried to talk, but the hand around her throat was too tight. Jelisette loosened her grip just a touch.

"No," Brynleigh gasped through the pain. "I'm not."

Those nails dug in deeper. "Tell me, child, why should I believe you when you already broke the rules once?"

"Because I want the same thing as you," Brynleigh rasped. "I want revenge."

Those claws sank in further.

Rivulets became rivers, blood coursing down her throat.

Black spots swam in Brynleigh's vision, and tears pricked behind her eyes. She hadn't said goodbye to Ryker. Not really.

If she died tonight, would he come looking for her? Would he mourn her just as she'd mourned him?

His face was all she could picture as she inched closer to the end.

Deeper, deeper, deeper, those claws dug.

Even vampires couldn't survive without a head.

Eventually, Brynleigh's survival instincts kicked in. She reached up, trying to pull her Maker's fingers from her neck.

An animalistic snarl ripped out of Jelisette's chest. She squeezed Brynleigh's neck so tightly that air was nothing but a dream.

This was it.

Brynleigh closed her eyes and prepared to die .

I love you, Ryker , she shouted into the darkness of her mind.

They weren't mates and didn't have a mental connection, but that didn't matter right now. As her immortal life drew to a close, Brynleigh hoped her fae captain could feel her thinking of him.

Death was cold as it came for Brynleigh with its dark, shadowy arms outstretched.

Her vision clouded, and she repeated the same phrase in her mind.

I love you; I love you; I love you .

If they'd had more time, she would have apologized and told him how sorry she was that she'd broken them in the first place. She would tell him that he had shown her that people could be kind, strong, and loving. She would make sure he knew he'd made her the happiest she'd ever been in her entire life.

Now, it was too late.

Hopefully, when Brynleigh was dead, Ryker would remember that she loved him.

Her eyes fluttered shut, her heart took one final beat, and then?—

The nails were gone.

The shadows cleared.

Brynleigh collapsed in a heap on the crimson carpet, her blood staining the fibers, as Jelisette stepped back.

Holding a hand to her bloody, torn-up throat, Brynleigh greedily inhaled gulps of air. Her skin slowly stitched itself back together. Her fangs ached.

She wasn't out of harm's way yet, though. She would never forget the true predator standing in front of her.

Dragging herself to her knees, Brynleigh lifted her gaze.

Cold black eyes gazed mercilessly down at her.

There would be no blood for Brynleigh here, tonight. She wouldn't even bother asking.

"You want revenge against the Representatives?" Jelisette asked calmly as if she hadn't been about to tear her progeny's head from her shoulders .

Keeping her hand against her throat, Brynleigh nodded. The movement sent bolts of pain lancing through her, and she barely held in a whimper.

Long minutes passed.

Jelisette's punishing, judging stare was unwavering.

Brynleigh's knees hurt from kneeling on the ground—all of her hurt, to be honest—but she didn't dare move. She would endure this for hours if it would get her the information she sought.

"I must admit, you surprised me." Jelisette tilted her head, her eyes gleaming with interest. She was a predator, and her progeny was her prey. "Tell me, my daughter, what would you do for your revenge?"

"Anything," Brynleigh breathed without a second thought.

Jelisette pursed her lips.

"Alright." She turned and wrote something out on a slip of paper. "Be at this address two nights from now. If you dare."

She dangled the paper in front of Brynleigh as if taunting her.

Despite the blood on her fingers and the still-healing wound on her neck, Brynleigh grabbed the paper, careful not to smear her blood on the page.

"Thank you."

"Don't make a mess of my carpet." Jelisette gave her one final stern look before turning and striding from the office.

Brynleigh stared at the paper clutched between her bloody fingers.

Midnight

16 Upper Red Road

Back entrance

Ask for Dimitri

Brynleigh had so many questions and not nearly enough answers, but this was better than nothing .

When her Maker was halfway down the hallway, Brynleigh finally stood. Tremors ran through her, the shock of nearly dying still coursing through her veins.

She needed to get out of here.

Her palm was extended, and she was about to call on her shadows when something caught her eye. A thin black book was by the door, squished between two ancient leather tomes.

The Night Will Rise Again was scrawled on the spine.

The author was unknown.

Something about the book called to Brynleigh. It was out of place in the study, a far cry from the ancient tomes filling the rest of the shelves.

Before Brynleigh could stop and think about what she was doing, she grabbed the book. When no alarm blared, and Jelisette didn't immediately reappear in the office to finish removing Brynleigh's neck from her shoulders, she exhaled.

Tucking the address in the book for safekeeping, Brynleigh pulled shadows from within, stepping into the Void with blood dripping down her neck.

The obnoxious, shrill shriek of Ryker's security alarm greeted Brynleigh when she stepped out of the Void. Of course, he would have the loudest alarm system she'd ever heard. It was like someone was clashing cymbals in her ears. She released her shadows and hurried to the front door.

Brynleigh dumped Jelisette's book and phone on the nearest surface. Extracting the slip of paper Ryker had given her from her back pocket, she squinted and tried to decipher his terrible handwriting.

Her fingers trembled as she punched in the security code. It took three attempts to shut off the horrid sound. In the wake of the blaring alarm, the silence was deafening. Every heartbeat was a drum; every breath was a shout .

The quiet was too much.

The weight of everything that had happened slammed into Brynleigh like a fucking freight train. Her head, her heart, and her body hurt. It was too much to bear.

She slumped against the wall, grabbing the doorframe to remain upright.

"Fuck."

Brynleigh had never been in shock, but that seemed to be precisely what was happening. Her head swam, her heart raced, and all her movements were sluggish. This wasn't bloodlust—she was fully in control. A quick check of her neck confirmed that the wounds had healed.

Sleep.

That's what she needed.

Brynleigh released the door and pushed herself off of the wall. She checked the locks, because she'd never be caught unaware again, and stumbled towards the bathroom.

Bloody handprints streaked on the wall where she held herself up, but she'd deal with them later. Exhaustion tugged at her, its relentless pull getting stronger with every passing moment.

Elbowing her way into the bathroom, she quickly washed her hands and ran a washcloth over her raw, pink skin.

Once she had removed most of the blood, she stripped and dumped her clothes in the hamper. Locating the laundry facilities would be a job for tomorrow.

Wearing nothing but her underwear, Brynleigh made her way to the last door in the hall. She remembered from her tour that this was Ryker's room.

She couldn't imagine how much worse she'd have felt if she'd been forced to return to Waterborn House or that bungalow where she and Ryker had gone after he'd freed her.

At least here, an air of familiarity calmed a part of her.

Brynleigh opened the bedroom door and immediately stopped as Ryker's scent slammed into her. Thunderstorms and bergamot permeated everything in this space .

She breathed deeply, filling her nose with his comforting, grounding scent. Her trembling slowed, and some of her exhaustion lifted. She knew she shouldn't snoop, but she couldn't help herself. Anything to get to know Ryker better.

The room was masculine, which was unsurprising. Navy drapes matched the comforter. A large, empty dog bed sat against the far wall. Two black dressers stood near the door. A king-sized, comfortable-looking bed took up the place of honor. The mattress called to Brynleigh, but she ignored its summons.

Looking at Ryker's room was one thing, but she couldn't sleep in his bed and invade his space.

There was a black T-shirt on the ground, though. Likely discarded from the last time Ryker was here, it looked comfortable and worn. She crept into the room and grabbed it.

Bringing the material to her nose, she sniffed.

His scent drowned everything else out. Her heart rate slowed to its normal, turtle-like rate. The trembling was almost non-existent. For a moment, it was as though he was standing right next to her.

Brynleigh didn't let herself think about what she was doing as she slid the shirt over her head. She didn't let herself wonder about whether Ryker would be upset she was wearing his things. She couldn't because she was afraid if she overthought it, she'd take off the shirt.

Right now, she couldn't imagine anything worse than that.

Content with how the garment fell to mid-thigh, Brynleigh grabbed a pillow and a blanket from the foot of the bed. She was about to leave when she remembered Ryker's instructions.

"Left nightstand," she murmured.

The drawer was unlocked and slid open easily.

Brynleigh's eyes widened and she inhaled sharply. Resting on top of several books was a folded-up photo, her phone, and a charger.

Tears rushed to her eyes as she swept all three items into her arms. She forgot about her exhaustion entirely as she hurried to the living room.

Dropping the pillow and blanket on the pull-out couch, Brynleigh plugged in her phone and waited for it to boot up. She sat, holding her breath as she gently unfolded the picture. Running her finger down the creases, she lay it flat on her lap.

A shuddering sob ripped through Brynleigh. The picture had been in her clutch with her phone on their wedding night, so it shouldn't have surprised her to see them together, but it did. She'd assumed the picture had been lost, but she was wrong.

Even when he hated her, Ryker had been looking out for her.

"Hey, Sarai, I miss you." Brynleigh traced her sister's infectious, beautiful smile with all the care in the world. "I wish you were here. I think… I think you'd like Ryker. I know you'd like his sister."

They would have gotten along so well.

Brynleigh lost track of time as she stared at the picture. She recommitted her sister's face to memory, soaking it in until her phone started vibrating uncontrollably next to her.

Messages were undoubtedly flooding in, but she wasn't ready to read them. She was fairly certain they would be negative. After all, she'd missed Hallie's wedding. Brynleigh didn't have many friends, but she was confident that friends didn't miss their friends' weddings.

It was cowardly of her, but Brynleigh didn't want to face the Fortune Elf yet. She didn't want to lose the one friend she'd made.

But there was one message she wanted to send before bed.

Navigating through her contacts, not that there were many, she clicked on Ryker's name. Opening their thread, she scrolled up to their wedding day.

Her last message had been sent an hour before she walked down the aisle.

Brynleigh

Are you ready for today, Ry ?

The response had come in seconds later.

Ryker

More than ready, sweetheart. I could barely sleep last night.

Who says you'll be getting a lot of sleep tonight?

…

*winking emoji*

The hairdresser's here. I have to go. See you soon!

There was so much hope in those few messages. So much to look forward to. And now everything had changed.

Ryker's words from earlier echoed in her mind.

I want to fix this.

So did she.

Brynleigh's eyes were heavy, but she wasn't ready to sleep yet. Her thumbs traveled over the keyboard.

I miss you.

No, that wasn't it. She pressed the backspace, clearing the screen.

Please be safe. We have a lot to talk about when you get back.

That felt wrong. Delete.

What if we can't fix this?

With a groan, she got rid of that one, too.

She typed three more messages, and she deleted them all. She had too many words and things she wanted to say, and she was far too tired for this.

In the end, she settled on something simple.

Thank you, Ryker.

She sent the message and turned the phone on silent before dropping it on the ground. Pulling the blanket over herself, she stretched out on the sofa and promptly fell asleep.