Page 89 of The Midnight Order
She wouldn’t know the significance of his state of undress, but I did.
It has hope building in me, despite my need to stay level-headed and see the realistic outcome we’re heading towards: Lowell won’t be able to feed from her, and everything we three feel for her will once again be moot.
This hasn’t happened as often, but it has happened.
With her aunt, no less.
“They fed from him to turn themselves?” Her thick swallow elongates her neck, reminding me of the sweet blood thrumming just beneath its surface.
My fangs spring downward, pressing into my lower teeth with a throbbing ache growing in them.
“They fed from him for power. A coven of vampires with a witch they’re bonded to is powerful, but a coven of witches with a vampire under their spell is even more so. They were using him to stay young and virile and to feed their magic. But in turn, they turned him into—”How do I say this delicately?“—a monster,” I finish.
“He was blood-crazed?” she asks, and while it’s not the term we use for it, it’s the perfect way to describe him when I found him wandering the woods with the guts of a rabbit hanging from his mouth and death in his eyes.
“Yes.”
“So, what does that have to do with my aunt?” she whispers, the quake in her voice telling me she already knows where this story is headed but isn’t ready to hear it.
“She asked Lowell, the one of us who treasured her the most, loved her the deepest, to do something for her?—”
“No,” she cuts me off, covering her mouth.
Her eyes are glassy with unshed tears for the man I can see she’s likewise growing fond of.
I nod. “She asked him to spare her from death. She was in her final days. That much was true. She wanted to live. She didn’t want to leave us or this place or you.”
“She wanted to use him. Like the witches did.”
Again, I nod. “She did. I truly don’t think she thought of it the way Lowell did. Or she thought he was over that part of his life. However, we vampires have a unique perspective on the worldand time. To him, it doesn’t feel like centuries ago; it feels like yesterday.”
“He couldn’t have just said no?”
“I did,” Lowell’s voice behind her cuts through the room.
Silver turns on him, backing up a few paces.
I know Lowell notes the way she retreats.
“I begged her not to ask it of me, and still she persisted.”
“You could’ve just cut her off. Walked away and let her die.” She sobs, and I fight the urge to go to her.
I know she’s hurting, but I can also smell her fear.
“I tried to. She tricked me.”
“Tricked you how? She was elderly and sick.”
“She used her love as a weapon against me, Silver.” His voice rises as he steps into her, backing her into a wall.
This needs to happen, and I’m glad I’m present in case anything goes awry, but I won’t intervene between them and impede this process any more than necessary.
“She told me she was sorry, begged me to forgive her. And I did. For the first time, someone tried to use me for my blood, for what I am, and I forgave them. It was huge for me. Then, she opened her arms, and I went to her. She pulled me into her fragile body and wrapped around me with love, and just when I melted into her feel—” he pauses, turning his neck and showing Silver the bite mark that’s his most recent scar.
“She did that? She bit you?”
He turns on her, fangs bared. “She betrayed me!”
