Page 96 of Bloodgrove

Will nodded, slightly lost. She could shake off the memories and return to ordinary life so easily. Why did his own revelations still haunt him?

“Does Eric know about this?” he asked before she could leave.

“No. My father always treated him with respect. We will leave it that way.”

Chapter 50

Afew days later, the night before the wedding, the gate fell shut behind the last servant, and Will pushed the bolt into place. Shivering, he turned and looked into the maw of the mausoleum that had become his home over the past months. It almost felt as though he were stepping into the ring with a monster—he could feel the raised hackles, the bared teeth.

“Don’t be so dramatic. It is only a new haircut,” he told the silence and threw the braid over his shoulder. His words echoed from the walls, and he felt ridiculous. He was far from possessing the courage they implied.

From his bedroom, he fetched the bags of siren scales, vampire bones, driftwood, and salt. His trunks were packed; only the suit for the wedding still hung in the empty dressing room. He hated being in the bare chamber as much as he longed to return to the Capitol, as though going home might somehow undo the haunting of the past months.

He stopped in the conservatory and watched the sleet lash against the glass in dense sheets. Memories of Elodie standing in the doorway in a breath of silk crept over him. As always, her presence was a ghost that followed him through the house, and with a strange tenderness, he thought of how far they had come.

Just as he was about to turn away, the pounding of the door knocker echoed through the corridors, and he froze. He waited for Hedgefort’s boots to strike the floor, but the house remained silent. No one was left.

Again, someone hammered against the front door. Will set his things down on the desk and followed the noise. Thunder rolled in the distance. He had lived in Bloodgrove long enough to be suspicious of unexpected visitors, and dusk had just begun to fall. Whoever stood outside in the freezing rain had to be desperate.

“Who is it?” he called.

“Eric Arcos.”

For a moment, he considered leaving the gate closed. Elodie had at least called him a mistake, but how was he supposed to ignore the nothing?

“Please, Will. Please let me in.”

Concern flared through Will, and he unlocked the door. The rusted bolt caught, the iron swollen with corrosion, and one last weak blow struck the wood.

Blue twilight beneath heavy clouds greeted him with icy rain. Below him, Eric struggled back to his feet on the steps. He wore nothing but a shirt, soaked and almost transparent across his back. Black hair hung in his face, rivulets running along his sharp cheekbones.

Will was beside him at once, hooking his arms beneath Eric’s, and with his help, Eric managed to stumble into the hall. His feet tangled beneath him, his muscles stiff with cold. The moment Will let go, he sank to the stone floor and barely managed to hold himself up on his arms.

“Elodie is not here,” Will said as he pushed the bolt back into place. “What are you doing here?”

Eric shuddered, but his fingers would not stop twitching. “You have to leave the city. You and Elodie—I have tickets for you.”

Will sank to the floor beside him and was about to argue when Eric pulled two tickets from the pocket over his chest. Miraculously, they were untouched, even as half-frozen water pooled beneath him.

“What do you mean?” Will asked. In the weak light of the hall, he noticed the thick silver streak running through Eric’s hair, and the concern in his chest took on a new shape. A cold vise closed around his heart, like the ice clinging to Eric’s clothes.

“You have to leave the city. Tonight, before it is too late.” Eric trembled violently, his head hanging low. “I have a special ticket for you.”

“I already have a ticket. I leave the morning after the wedding. I did not know there were other departures.” He did not need to add that Elodie would never leave the city. She would not go anywhere until she had broken the curse and destroyed everyone who had wronged her.

“Elodie doesn’t have a ticket for you.”

Will opened his mouth to answer when Eric looked up.

But instead of two moons framed in darkness, furious black abysses stared back at him.

A curse escaped Will’s lips, but he remained frozen on his knees beside Eric while his mind tried to understand what had happened. There was only one explanation: Eric had attempted a ritual to obtain tickets for Elodie and Will and had paid the terrible price demanded by the curse—and had reached his limit. Elodie had worn the mask for days after obtaining only one ticket.

“I need blood,” Eric rasped, his voice rough, a growl gathering in his chest.

“I think you have had enough of that,” Will muttered, cursing inwardly that no one was here to tell him what to do. How close was Eric to succumbing to bloodlust? To becoming a vampire?

Eric’s hand shot out, seized Will’s arm, and his teeth sank through the shirt until his blunt human bite broke the skin.