Chapter 32

32

GAbrIEL

I t took us what felt like a short, agonizing eternity to reach the house. I had never considered myself someone prone to restlessness, but now I felt like I was about to crawl out of my own skin with the need to move. I drummed my fingers against my knee, staring unseeing at the road. Marcus looked if not calm, then at least calmer than I felt, but when I glanced over I could see that he was clenching his hands around the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles had gone white.

The curving road up the mountain set my teeth on edge. I was painfully aware that each zigzag stole precious minutes from us. I considered getting out and simply running up the slope, but my gut told me it would be worth the wait to have Marcus by my side.

We were near the peak now, and as we rounded a bend, Theo let out a hoarse cry from the backseat.

"There!" they exclaimed, leaning forward to point past my shoulder at a dark purple Volkswagen pulled over to the side of the road. Marcus pulled the car to a stop, and Theo was out and sprinting before he'd even turned the engine off. I could make out an arm on the ground, half-hidden behind the car. My heart was in my throat as I approached. Not Evangeline, I begged internally. Please, don't let that be Evangeline .

Theo folded down to their knees, cradling the body. It was Isabella, pale and unconscious, but not visibly hurt. With our enhanced hearing, Theo and I could both hear the sluggish beating of blood in her veins. I had been right. Something was terribly, terribly wrong.

"She's alive," Theo said, their voice rough with relief.

Marcus, who had followed us without the benefit of supernaturally improved speed, crouched down and took Isabella's wrist, checking her pulse. He nodded to himself, then leaned forward to gently ease her eyelids open, looking intently at the whites.

"She's been sedated," he said, rising to his feet and smoothing down his cargo pants. "I know this potion. It wears off within a few hours. She'll have a nasty headache, but that'll be the worst of it."

Theo—brash, snappish Theo—clambered to their feet, cradling Isabella as if she were something precious. "We should get her somewhere more comfortable," they said. I checked the handle of the purple car, and it swung open. The keys were still in the ignition. Theo placed her in the passenger seat more gingerly than I'd ever seen them do anything in the very long time we'd known each other.

There was strength in numbers, I thought, but I recognized the look in Theo's eyes all too easily. It was an expression I'd found myself making more and more often lately.

"You should stay with her," I told Theo, and they looked up at me with a start. "I don't like the idea of leaving one of our own unconscious and unguarded. Why don't you drive her car up to the clearing behind us and keep watch while we search the place?"

"If you need me—" Theo started, and I gave them a small wry smile.

"If we need you, we'll call for you. I can't speak for Marcus, but I certainly don't plan on going out of earshot without warning you."

They gave me a grateful scowl and slid into the Volkswagen, pulling onto the road as Marcus and I got back into the truck. Theo was a perfectly capable driver, perhaps the best of the vampires in the house, but had admitted to me once that they just didn't like the feel of driving as much now there weren't horses involved.

It was easier to think about Theo's vague distrust of the internal combustion engine than it was to think about the fear vibrating through my chest. I had seen Isabella fight before. Sure, she wasn't as impressive as Evangeline, but when the three of us had fought that statue, she'd been quick and ferocious. If whatever had come for Evangeline had managed to subdue her…

We pulled into the clearing. I wasn't sure how long ago I'd forgotten to keep breathing, but I suspected it had been a while. I forced myself to inhale slowly through the nose and out through the mouth, just like the woman from Vic's yoga tapes always demanded.

Marcus looked at me over the rims of his glasses with a cool, calculating glance I found oddly reassuring. For just a moment, his quirky professor look gave me a chance to pretend there was someone more responsible than me to deal with this whole mess. It didn't last long, but it was a nice moment.

"Can you feel her presence?" he asked.

"I'll—" I began, but before I could continue, the ground shook as if a bomb had gone off. The car rocked and shuddered, and then began to grow moss along its steering wheel. Marcus and I scrabbled for our seatbelts and threw ourselves out of the car, rushing toward the remains of the house. Before we could get far, there was a rumble and a crack, and the ground split between the charred beams that had once held up the home. Golden light poured out, and a gasp of relief punched its way out from my chest.

It was the color of Evangeline's light spell.

The light grew stronger and brighter, and the ground crumbled down into what must have been some sort of basement. A shape floated up from the hole that was breathtakingly familiar.

Evangeline rose into the air, glowing brilliantly. Her hair waved around her, chestnut curls floating as though she was underwater, and her eyes were the same pale gold as the light that surrounded her. Blood flowed down her body from a gash that had been cut into the center of her chest, standing out starkly against her white shirt.

I was practically giddy with relief. Evangeline was here. I wasn't too late. She might be hurt, but she was alive, and she was resplendent.

I ran forward, with Marcus following behind me. There was a snarl of anger from the basement, and I nearly stumbled. I knew that snarl all too well. Sure enough, when I reached the lip of the hole, I saw the familiar dark shape of my father climbing with spider-like ease up the rubble. Two burly vampires were trying to climb up as well.

With a curl of her hand, Evangeline snared one in a thick mass of magic and threw him back down to the ground. He lay still, his limbs splayed out at unnatural angles like those of a dropped ragdoll. My father didn't spare him a glance.

I reached for my weapons, but Marcus threw out an arm in front of me.

"Wait," he said, not looking away from Evangeline. His face was grim. "Look at her."

I did. Now that I wasn't just swept up in the giddy wave of relief I'd felt at finding her alive, I could see what Marcus was seeing. The look on Evangeline's face was like nothing I'd seen on her before. Not only had she completely ignored Marcus and me, but there was an odd, cruel set to her expression. She looked almost bored, like a cat that had lost interest in a mouse after injuring it to the point that it was no longer fun to play with.

With a bare flick of her fingers, Evangeline swirled the rubble into a cyclone around my father's remaining bodyguard. The stone and crushed cinderblock spun around him faster and faster, becoming a gray blur, and then she clenched her fist. The rubble that made up the vortex slammed inward with a horrible sound, crushing the hapless vampire. The mass of stone lifted up into the air, dripping blood, then dropped to the ground with a slam. Evangeline's face was still impassive, rigid, and cold as a marble statue.

My father scrambled for a knife, more rattled than I had ever seen him, and I felt as though I'd been rooted to the ground as he threw it straight and true toward Evangeline.

She cocked her head to the side, and the knife froze in midair, barely six inches from her forehead. She inspected the wicked blade with idle curiosity, like it was a mildly interesting insect. Evangeline reached out and plucked the knife from the air, balanced it on one finger, and then moved quick as a viper, winding back, and throwing it back at my father. It flew forward on a wave of magic moving so fast that it blurred. There was a broken, choked-off noise as it hit my father in the stomach, and then the blast of magic threw him backward, so powerful, it flung him all the way to the tree line. He slammed into a large pine and slumped down into the bushes that grew up around its base. Every tree around him shook like it was in a sudden gale-force wind.

I probably should have felt something about that, I thought distantly. I couldn't bring myself to worry about it at that moment.

The brilliant golden light was beginning to fade from Evangeline's eyes. Her aura flickered and dimmed, and she sank down toward the ground. When her feet were still a yard or so above the charred ground, her eyes slipped shut, and the light blinked out. She dropped like a stone, and I bolted forward to catch her in my arms. I caught her just before she hit the ground. The golden glow flickered across her face, and I could see her eyes moving frantically behind their lids like she was trapped in a dream.

I could feel my long-dead heart jump into my throat as I knelt on the ash-covered ground, cradling her close to me. Now the magic wasn't flowing around her in invisible currents, her hair was a tangled mess, and soot smeared her cheeks.

"Evangeline," I murmured, brushing her hair out of her face. "Evangeline, can you hear me?" Unbidden memories of the long, painful transition from soon-to-be-vampire to vampire arose in my mind. Being unmade, reborn as something entirely new, had been agonizing. Was that what was happening to Evangeline?

Her lips parted, and she murmured something, barely more than an exhale. I leaned closer, trying to hear what she was saying.

"Y'r dad," she mumbled. "Y'r dad is such a dick…"

I let out a ragged, gasping laugh. I must have sounded absolutely manic, because her eyes fluttered open, and she lifted a hand to give my cheek a clumsy pat. It looked as though that simple movement took an exhausting amount of effort, and I put my hand over hers, desperate to feel the reassuring warmth of her against my skin.

There was so much I wanted to say, all bubbling up in my chest, threatening to choke me. I wanted to tell her I had been scared. I wanted to tell her I had been terrified to find her gone, that I had feared the worst. Most of all, I wanted to tell her that I loved her, and that in the time I'd known her, it felt as though she had reshaped my world in the best possible way.

Instead, I said, "You're right. My father is an absolute dick."

Evangeline grinned up at me, and her smile was like the sunrise.

I squeezed her hand, turning my head to press a kiss to her palm. I was distantly aware of the sound of Marcus clambering over the rubble to climb down into the basement, but my priorities were elsewhere. The wound on Evangeline's chest was still bleeding sluggishly, and I pressed my hand against it, trying to staunch the flow. She hissed, and I murmured an apology.

"I'm going to get you home," I said softly. "We'll patch you up. You're going to be all right, Evangeline. Don't worry."

I was still rambling comforting promises when Marcus clambered back out of the pit. Evangeline's grasp on consciousness seemed loose, and she barely noticed when her mentor crouched next to us. He held out his palm, and in it was a bundle of twisted gold wire, half-melted.

"This is all that's left of the array," he said. "Not a drop of magic remains in the thing, as far as I can tell. You did it, Evangeline." He was practically beaming with pride, and it was so clear on his face that I felt oddly like an intruder seeing it.

Evangeline smiled up at us blearily. "You're goddamn right," she mumbled. "I'm gonna… I'm gonna take a nap to celebrate, okay?"

"Rest for a little while," Marcus said gently. "You deserve it."

Closing her eyes, Evangeline slumped in my arms, and if I hadn't been able to hear the faint beat of her pulse, I would have panicked. As it was, I just held her even closer.

Marcus took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. The expression of pride slipped away, and in its place was pure, raw grief.

"The world will be coming for her now," he said.

I stayed silent. It didn't seem as though he was speaking to me.

"I can only hope that I've done enough to prepare her."

"We should get her home," I said. "She needs patching up, and a proper bed."

Marcus nodded, slipping his glasses back on. I could practically see him packing his turmoil away into a neat little box to deal with later. Or, I suspected, to gather dust in a corner of his mind somewhere.

"I think you have some unfinished business to deal with first, my friend," he said. "That blow Evangeline dealt your father wasn't enough to kill off a vampire for good, was it?"

My blood went cold. I would have to be the one to end things. My father was a cruel, cold man who had done horrible things, who had used me as a tool in his schemes, but… could I bring myself to drive a stake into his heart? Most days, I could barely admit to myself that I hated him.

Marcus's cool, blue eyes were sharp behind the lenses of his glasses. "I could…" he began, but I shook my head.

"No," I said tiredly. "No. I should be the one to do it."

He clapped me on the shoulder. "I'll get Evangeline back to the car and make sure she's as comfortable as possible."

I nodded, not meeting his eyes.

Gently, his magic lifted Evangeline from my arms, and he walked off with her floating next to him.

I stayed kneeling on the ground for several long, quiet minutes. In the distance, I could hear Marcus speaking softly to the unconscious Evangeline, quiet ramblings about making sure Floyd gave her the pillows she preferred, and how she'd get all the pudding cups she wanted while she was resting up.

I was glad she was being cared for, but I had to admit that it didn't help my mental state. Hearing someone else be fussed over by a parental figure wasn't precisely what you wanted when you were preparing to commit patricide.

I held the spike dagger in my hands. Its weight was more familiar than I would have liked. The surface of the wood was glossy and smooth, and the point was very sharp. It would be as painless as such a thing could be. I rose to my feet and walked toward the tree line.

The pine tree was thick, and its weathered gray bark was sticky with sap and blood. The smell was intense, the astringent scent of the pine sap mixing sickeningly with the dark iron tang of gore. The dead leaves had been knocked free from the bushes where my father had fallen, leaving behind bare, twisted brambles.

The ground beneath the tree was bare.

My father was gone.