Page 88 of The Midnight Order
I nod, anger welling. “Yeah. I do.”
“Come, let’s get you upstairs. We’ll have a chat.”
I get nearly to the door as I follow him before I stop.
“Wait. You knew he killed my aunt?”
He turns, sighing. “Yeah. I knew.”
“What the fuck?”
“Well, don’t write me off too fast, Silver, especially when she’s technically not your aunt. Seems we’ve all been keeping secrets. Maybe it’s time to lay them all out.”
Wait, what?
Chapter 23
Jasper
She won’t sit down.Her pacing has my head on a swivel as she goes back and forth in front of the door.
“Silver, talk to me,” I coax, knowing I need her some semblance of calm if I’m going to speak to her rational side.
Her face is growing redder by the second, and I’m anxious about how she’ll react.
She’s still our hostage until Lowell proceeds with his portion of the testing, which he hasn’t done safely or effectively yet, even once, but that’s another beast entirely.
“No!” She spins on me, her finger in the air in warning, her face upturned in a vicious look that has my toes curling. “You talk! Fucking explain what he said to me right now, Jasper, or so help me?—”
Now is not the time to find her adorable, but I do.
I want to know what she’ll do if I don’t tell her, and I hope it ends with my fangs breaking through that rich-smelling flesh of hers.
She snarls, and I’m tugged back to reality where the entire thing I’ve been hoping for with her falls through my grasp like sand.
“He killed her.”
“I got that much, thank you very much.”
“It’s not what you think. Fuck, please sit down. You’re making me dizzy.”
“You’re immortal; you’ll survive.” She does, however, cross her arms.
I sigh. “I still don’t think it’s my story to tell, but it is pertinent that you hear it to understand him better.”
“I don’t know if I want to understand him anymore, Jasper. I want to kill him.”
Telling her Lowell is the most lethal of us is likely a bad idea, so I keep that fact to myself. “Lowell is the oldest of us. I found him lost and confused in the old world, wandering around in a haze. See, he had escaped from a coven of witches that had been using him as a blood slave.”
Her gasp isn’t surprising, but I sit straighter in my chair.
Silver is compassionate, which likely drew Lowell closer to the house. It oozes from her like sap from a pine.
“Blood slave for what? Rituals?” she asks.
“Yes, and no. They were feeding him absurd amounts of blood to keep him in a feral state, where he was crazed, so they could do whatever they wanted to him as long as he was satiated. They fed from him. The scars you see all over his body—” I swallow, trying not to think of them.
When I broke them apart, he was shirtless with her, which honestly threw me off. I haven’t witnessed him shirtless in many, many years.
