Page 32 of To Vanquish Darkness

Theo scoffed. “No. Just my death.”

Amalie opened her mouth and closed it. She’d wanted him to believe she was pliant. Innocent. But she’d been fooling herself. The night had started with her stabbing him in the chest. She was a fool to think?—

“I’m glad we’re at least on the same page.” Theo stepped closer, his trousers riding dangerously low on his hips.

“What are you talking about?” Amalie’s eyelids flickered, his scent suddenly swirling around her.

“I want the relic for the same reason you do.”

Amalie barked a laugh. “Doubtful.”

Theo was suddenly right in front of her. He lowered his chin to meet her eyes. “You can vanquish me yourself. And then I don’t care what you do with it. Kill them all if you want.”

Amalie’s heart skipped a beat. She’d assumed Theo wanted the relic to hold more power, to control his coven or threaten other vampire groups. But find the relic to take his own life? It didn’t make any sense.

Theo fixed his eyes on her. “The injections from your uncle mask the scent of your blood unless it’s fresh. I only caught the scent when you broke your skin. The others won’t sense you if you’re careful. Stay in your room?—”

“How am I supposed to find a sword while locked in my room in the middle of the sea?”

Theo’s hand twitched, and he shoved it in his pocket. “I’ve collected books. Histories, not the ones you’re used to. I’ll have them sent to your room.”

“So what, I read? Look for something that could lead us to a vampire murdering relic? What am I going to find that you haven’t?”

Theo was silent for a moment, his eyes scanning her face. “You seem motivated.” He stepped back. “I must leave tomorrow in a few hours. I’ll send for you when I return.”

“Theo—”

“Leave me. I need rest. And you need to bathe.”

Amalie clenched her jaw. “How do you expect me to take care of that with only a wash basin?”

He looked at her, a strange expression on his face. “Did you not open the other door?”

13

1824 BLOIS, FRANCE

Rachel sat upright in bed at the metallic click of a latch. She pulled her sheets to her chest, her breath coming in quick bursts as her window swung open, sending chilled night air sweeping across her skin.

She threw her covers off and leaped from the bed, then worked to untangle her nightdress as she bolted for the door. “Or—” Her brother’s name disappeared under a warm palm clapped over her mouth.

“Shhh, Rachel. It’s me.”

Rachel stilled, her fingernails still digging into the man’s skin. Florent? But how had he gotten to the second story? The house spanned the river and the walls were sheer. She worked to draw air into her lungs as he dropped his hand and settled it on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he whispered, brushing a kiss across her temple.

Rachel spun to face him. “You came in through my window in the middle of the night.”

Florent grinned. His hair was loose as it always was. His skin looked almost velvet in the moonlight spilling in from the window. “I had to see you.”

Rachel’s heart fluttered, but she pushed him back toward the wall. “You can’t be here.” For so many reasons, Florent couldn’t be there. Amalie and Bethany were sleeping in the next room over, for one. Oren would kill him, for another. And Florent still hadn’t answered her questions, for the last. “I told you I wouldn’t meet you again?—”

“That’s why I’m here.” Florent grasped her wrists and held them in front of her. “I knew you wouldn’t meet me in the gardens, and I owe you an explanation.”

Rachel searched his eyes, her pulse quickening. “You’re going to tell me why nobody knew your name when I stopped by the abbey? Why you will only see me after dark?”

Florent held her gaze and nodded. “I thought—well, I’d rather show you.” He pulled her closer to the window.

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