Elle Jasper - Darklove

“It’s a good thing I did,” Phin says, grinning at Luc’s puzzled expression. I slap his arm. He holds the scatha up to his brother. “Check it out.”

The bed sags as the other Dupré brother sits down. He grasps the weapon and turns it over, thoroughly inspecting it. I tell them of Edinburgh, and how two ancient knights—one a once-Earthbound angel to boot—taught the WUP team how to properly use a broadsword. Both were now completely mortal, but badass to the bone and a wealth of knowledge. “Gawan told us where to find the mystical sacred water to fill the cartridges.” I reach over to the medieval-designed crossbow and show them where the cartridges load. They both watch on in interest. Phin’s buzz cut and Luc’s fashionably longer-haired heads both bent over the scatha. “And he instructed me to seek out the alternative realm there. I want this to be over. I . . . need Eli back.”

Both of Eli’s brothers look up, understanding and love making their eyes glassy. Luc grabs my shoulder and squeezes. “I know, sis. We’ll get him.”

I lean my head against Phin’s shoulder. “It’s so easy sometimes to just want to . . . walk away. Be normal.” I incline my head toward the window. “Like them. Everyday people, going about their daily lives without a clue. Ignorant.” I inhale Phin’s unique scent. His vampiric scent. Reminds me of a cedar fire. “I want to be ignorant sometimes. But that’s so damn selfish. I hate even thinking it.”

Luc ducks his head. “We’ll get him, ma chère ,” he says. “I vow it.”

Then, at once, I stiffen. Luc and Phin feel it, too, because both of their backs go straight, and Luc stands and walks to the window.

“Something’s not right,” I say, and I kick out of the covers and stand. A draft catches the skin on my legs, and I glance down, not remembering Noah taking off my pants. I spy them at the foot of the bed, and I hastily shove my legs into them. Grabbing my boots, I sit on the bed and yank them on, too. I’m crossing the room now, and I find my silver holster and shrug into it, stuffing blades in all their proper places. When I’m finished, I leave the leather halter I’m wearing in place, forgo the jacket, and hurry to the window. Next to Luc I stand, peering out. Shadows shift, stretch.

Movement. Above us, below us.

A sinking feeling crashes over me. Familiar. Terrifying.

“This place is surrounded,” Phin says, peering over my head. “Fucking bloodsuckers.”

It barely registers in my head that my soon-to-be brother-in-law, who is a vampire, is calling other vampires bloodsuckers. The Gullah would be so proud.

“Luc, take the stairs. Tell Noah and the others what’s going down,” I say, pushing up the window as easy as I can. “Phin?” I stick my leg out, straddling the sill, and make eye contact with Luc. “Watch Rhine and my brother,” I ask. “Please.”

“You know I will,” Luc says, and he disappears from my room. I give Phin a silent nod, and he’s blurring with rage. Pulling my legs up, I grasp the ledge and push hard. My body flips upward and I land on the roof. Crouching, I search the darkness. Phin lands beside me, and together we move over the top of the Crachan, keeping low.

I see them.

It’s almost too many to believe.

It’ll be a goddamn bloodbath.

Just then they swarm. From the wood, the surrounding trees, the street. And at the same time, Noah, Luc, Seth, Rhine, and the Ness boys fill the Crachan’s courtyard.

Like a medieval war, both sides charge.

Without waiting for Phin, I leap down, draw a blade, and jump in. Just as I land, I’m grabbed, and as curses and screams fill the air, I’m forcefully dragged into the shadows.

A strong, rock-hard biceps is wrapped around my throat, dragging me back into the shadows behind the Crachan. His familiar scent, burned deep into my memory and sensory, hits me in waves. So much that, for a second, I’m powerless to defend myself. Powerless to escape. It’s tempting to just let him drag me off and do . . . whatever.

At least it’s him. Eligius. And for a split second, we’re together.

Eli goes stone-dead still, turns, and looks down at me. He hesitates. In the half shadows, I see his face. Conflict and confusion war in the depths of his red eyes.

I stretch my hand out to graze his jaw. “Eli—”

Oh no, you don’t, Riley. Fight. Get away from him. He’s not your love right now. He’s your enemy. Run. Now. Or all chances of saving him are gone.

Athios’s words hit me in the gut; it doesn’t take much. I’m not suicidal, or so awash with grief that I don’t want to survive in this chaotic world I live in without Eli. The faces of Seth, my Gullah family, the Duprés, Noah, Rhine—they all flash before me.

I focus, forcing all of my energy to my core, and when it gathers, builds, and then explodes, Eli is thrown back. I don’t turn around, and I don’t stop to wonder where he was thrown to. I run. Haul ass, straight for the back entrance of the Crachan.

I’ve got to get the scatha.

Carrine’s voice catches my ear. “Go after her, imbecile!”

I know what I’ve got to do.

When I reach the door, it’s partially open and I hurry inside. The lights are out, and darkness and shadows stretch and distort my surroundings in a building I’m already not overly familiar with. I’m in the kitchen, and the sounds of the fight outside waft in from several broken windows. I push the thoughts and visions aside and make my way to the staircase.

I’m not alone.

Eli’s right behind me. There’s no use in hiding from him. I know he can sense me, smell me, just like I can him. On my way through the hall, I grab an iron poker from the hearth, leap over the sofa, and dash for the stairs. Just as I reach them, my arm is grabbed.

Eli has a tight grip on my wrist.

Without hesitation, I swing the iron poker and clobber him. His head snaps to the side, and his grip loosens just enough for me to break free. I run. Through the darkness, I take comfort in knowing that, no matter how hideous it sounded and looked, that iron poker didn’t do anything to my fiancé except stun him for a second.

It’s not like I poked him with silver.

I’m running up the corridor to my room when I’m slammed into and I hit the wall. A newling. Female. Face distorted, ragged teeth dropped and snapping at me.

I drop the iron poker, yank a blade from a sheath, and ram it into her heart. As she falls, I leap over her and into my room. Grab my scatha off the bed where Luc left it, and just as I’m slipping the newly packed duffel filled with cartridges over my head, Eli grabs me and yanks me around. His grip is tight. And I’ve dropped my nonsilver weapon.

He starts to drag me now, back toward the door. Eli’s eyes are bloodred, his expression blank. He’s wearing a black T-shirt, and his biceps bulge as he yanks me hard. My heart plummets; confusion webs my brain, and part of me wants to scream, wrap my arms around his neck, and kiss him, or hit him, until he wakes the fuck up! Recognizes me!

“Eli! Please!” I holler.

For a split second, he hesitates. His grip is still tight, but he stops. Studies me. And confusion flashes in his eyes.

I don’t waste time. Instead, I focus my energy. It’s happening faster now. I’m gaining more control over my Fallen powers. In the next second, Eli is tossed across the room. I’m stunned at the force and exactness of my powers, but I don’t hang around. I head straight for the window and leap out.