Page 43 of A Bond Beyond Blood

Mine.

Surely a small taste wouldn’t hurt—

I grunted as pain exploded in my chest, an agonizing fire that licked at my flesh.I batted the girl away like a fly, wincing when Jack hit the ground hard, gasping for air, but I was too distracted, awestruck by the stake sticking out of my chest and the bloom of crimson staining my white dress shirt.

Centuries without being staked, and it only took one interaction with this woman to ruin my impeccable record.

“Incredible,” I whispered as I pulled the wood from my chest and the wound began to knit itself back together.Baiting her, I said, “Pity you didn’t aim just an inch to the left, love.”

I dropped the stake and strode over to where she laid in a heap on the floor, concern replacing wonder as I looked down at her.I’d never forgive myself if I truly harmed Franco’s daughter.

Though she was alive, defeat wafted from her in waves, her pain almost palpable in the space between us and maddeningly loud within her mind.I shook my head, completely captivated by her and the absolute lack of fear in her thoughts.Even as I stood over her now, clearly stronger than her and obviously winning this fight, she wasn’t afraid of dying at my hand.

“Jack,” I whispered.

Tears filled her bright blue eyes as she looked up, and my stomach dropped out as the memories assaulted me.That familiar, striking shade of blue.Her mother’s eyes, I finally realized, and my heart twisted painfully.

Evangeline Fiorino had died during childbirth, too weak to be saved by even my blood, though I’d given her plenty that fateful day.

Devastated by the loss of the first person to befriend me with no ulterior motives, and fearful that I’d be affected by the blood spilling from Evangeline’s body, I hadn’t stuck around long enough to see her baby enter this life.

She and her butcher already had two sons; I assumed the third child was also a boy.

How wrong I’d been.

But the recollection of that fateful day answered the question of why my essence flowed through Jack’s veins.Evangeline had lived long enough for my blood to transfer to her unborn child.

I stood and looked down at Jack.“I saved your life once.Let’s stop this foolishness so I don’t have to do so a second time.”

Her face crumpled and the tears flowed from her eyes freely now, but she didn’t say anything.

And she didn’t need to.Her thoughts were deafening.

Why?she wanted to know.Why me and not her?

In the seconds of silence that stretched between us, every ounce of her pain, every frustrating moment of needing a mother but being surrounded by men, every bit of anger and rage andachingheartbreak battered against me like a hurricane against storm shutters.I winced as she assaulted my mind with vitriol and grief, and as I turned to leave, to head up to her apartment and wait for her to pull herself together and join me so we could discuss the deal her father and I made twenty-one years ago, I heard the final question so clearly I couldn’t tell whether she’d spoken the words aloud or thought them within her mind.

Why didn’t you save them?

I paused at the door, hanging my head.Them.Not just her mother, but her father as well.

This is why she trained.Not to fight, but topunish.

Because she believed I turned my back on her father in his time of need.

If only she knew the guilt I carry for my failure to save her mother, the regret I live with every day since Franco’s passing.He didn’t want my help, but I could have taken that decision away from him as easily as blinking.

As I stepped outside into the night, I spoke the painful truth: “He wouldn’t allow me to save him.”

The door closed behind me, but did little to muffle the heart-wrenching sobs coming from within the shop.I clenched my jaw and strode upstairs to her apartment, giving her the time she needed to come to grips with the truth of her father’s passing.

He didn’twantto be saved.

And she could no longer blame me for that.

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