Page 39 of Revenant

“Veil’s father, and he vied for prestige far more than ours did. Eryx convinced himself Veil was his escape—that Aldric’s approval would earn him everyone else’s and he’d finally be worthy.”

My shoulders draw in slightly as my gaze drops away. It seems I’m not the only one they’ve tried to use. “So…he used her?”

“Not in the way you’re thinking.” I look up and I’m met with the warm amber of his eyes, the left half eclipsed and brimming with a sorrow he doesn’t voice. “Eryx was so blinded by his own ambition that he convinced himself he loved her. In some measure we all cared for her, but what she wanted was nothing more than a hand in creation. To play God.”

A yawn escapes me, exhaustion digging its claws into me with each passing tick of the clock. I pull a blanket off the back of the chair, trying to find a better position to listen further. Elias stands up on his own accord, and just when I think he’s going to leave, he pushes the comforter back and gestures for me to climb in.

“No, I’m fine. Keep going.”

“I’m not going anywhere, but what kind of man would I be if I let you fall asleep in a desk chair?”

“I’m not–”

“Get in,” he demands, and I don’t have the energy to keep arguing. I crawl in, pressing myself as close to the wall as I can manage. He throws the blankets over me before settling back onto the bed, leaving a sliver of distance between us.

This isn’t awkward at all.

Pulling the blanket tighter under my chin, I snuggle deeper into the pillows. “Veil turned you into vampires, then? She…created the five of you?”

“Yes, but we’ve also been inadvertently cursed to an eternity of imprisonment.”

“I’m not sure if it’s the sleep deprivation, but you guys don’t look like you’re prisoners?”

“Yes, well, our free rein only goes to the end of the school’s property line.”

“You can’t leave?”

“Come on, kitten. You think none of us joined you in the river during your drunken skinny-dipping escapade because we didn’t want to?” My cheeks flush, knowing part of my insecurity that night was due to the fact Pryce was nowhere to be seen. I hadn’t thought of the other guys like that. Sure, they’re nice to look at, but I don’t know them as well as Pryce.

But I guess…I didn’t really know him either.

“Why did she curse you?”

“She didn’t intend to, but her actions did. She dreamed of an all-powerful eternity with a dutiful man by her side. Veil meddled with dark magic to get it, and the price for the monsters she created was the curse. In the end, though, her own reckoning was death. The magic she siphoned from us to fuel her spell wasn’t enough to balance the scales, and she lost her life because of it.” He chuckles softly, but it lacks humor. “Although I’m sure it was unintentional, she did offer us a gift.”

“Some would think living a life on unborrowed time would be a gift.”

“And those people would be wrong.” His tone turns solemn, and I know I don’t necessarily understand their struggles, but I’m trying. “The five of us, as the first vampires to be created, all received a special ability. No two abilities are alike, and in that sense, I supposed one would see that as remarkable.”

That piques my interest, but he continues as though the admission was a secret, and he’s trying to bury it with more information.

“There was…a lot that happened after that and most of it isn’t mine to share. But at some point, we decided to do something about our…predicament. We formed The Hollowed—a society of witches working in secret to study our curse and search for a way to break it. In return, we grant their covens more power.”

“With the candle?”

“Yes. The candle is a relic, forged by the Sisters of the Reliquary nearly a millennium ago. It was a way to reward the most gifted witches—the way today’s universities might single out students at the top of their class. We’ve since repurposed it to serve our own needs.”

I’m not sure if it was his storytelling, or the smell of bourbon and musk, but I find myself scooting closer, and before I know it, my head is resting against his chest. If Elias minds, he doesn’t comment. “So, you’ve been trying to break this curse since Veil…killed you?”

“Yes, to state it plainly. Witches have been attempting to break it for centuries—unsuccessfully, of course. But as a Calder, you’ve offered us something we haven’t had in a very long time.”

“What’s that?”

“Hope,” he says carefully, though centuries of pain bleed through anyway. “No witch outside of Veil’s lineage has ever undone it. More than a few attempts have ended in tragedy, and we suspect the curse requires the right blood to break it.”

I fight off another yawn. “What do you mean, the right blood?”

“We’re hopeful you’re the piece we’ve been missing all these centuries.” His arm curls around me, fingers absentmindedly tracing circles along my arm. “A Calder forged the curse. Perhaps it needs one to break it.”