Page 108 of When Bones Whisper
Nathaniel had awoken and crawled to the altar, his fingers over her bloody torso, pulling her close to his chest, cradling her head in his large hands. Turning his bloodshot eyes to Gertrude, he spluttered in a tone so broken, it didn’t even sound like him, and asked, “What did you do?” He grew louder when she didn’t immediately answer, and shouted, “What the Hell did you do?”
Nathaniel’s blood-curdling scream shook the veil when he held her corpse close, listening to the hollow silence of her heart. He clamped his eyes shut, lowering his head as a howl erupted from the pit of his stomach. He choked on another visceral, agony tainted wail, fingers crumbling into the stone slab, turning it to dust.
Charlotte watched through blurred eyes as he turned, crimson painting his fingertips, and lunged at Gertrude, the grief so potent it sliced through their spells, magic no match for raw, visceral pain. Freezing for a moment under the spell of incapacitation, he growled loudly, breaking free of it in seconds.
Gertrude stumbled back, fear potent in her eyes as she grabbed another Avery witch’s wrist, the corpse-sewn monsters blundering toward him, but he was too fast for them.
Blood painted the headstones, cracking echoing around them as he pounced on their backs, his arms locking around their necks before wrenching off their heads with unsettling speed, blood and saliva dripping from the three sets of his fangs, more beast than man.
His pupils slitted, darkening as he tore them apart, one by one, spitting their flesh on the ground, animalistic rage guiding his every movement.
Gasps and screams filled the air, cloaked figures scattering. Magic skittered through the ground as they incanted spells, but nothing worked.
“Enough!” Gertrude yelled, but he fought his way through every spell thrown his way, his grief so potent it hurt Charlotte’s soul.
Snapping the neck of the last witch who hadn’t yet run, he tilted his head, glaring at his mother. “I left you for last.”
“She’s going to come back. I fed her the blood,” Gertrude said slowly, caution rimming her dark eyes.
Charlotte spotted the empty vial of vampire blood beside her body, the crimson liquid inside coating her icy lips. Gertrudehadfed her Alexander’s blood, but she hadn’t come back.
The demon. Of course, it was for the Smiling Woman.
This couldn’t be happening.
“She is too far gone!” he spat, his voice shattering the air between them. “And even if she wasn’t, you should be.”
“I am immortal,” she warned, stepping back and almost stumbling on a discarded limb.
“Not like me,” he said with a tilt of his head, blood soaking his shirt, covering his chin and lips. “You arenotinvincible. You may be able to survive a snap of your neck but let's see if you can come back if there’s no body to return to.”
“Don’t do this, darling. My sweet boy. I made you into this, I know, but everything is going to be different now. We have more power than ever.”
“I want nothing from you expect your death.”
“Everything I did was for our family. We were persecuted and your curse was supposed to be temporary.”
“What about now?” he asked, brows rising, fangs bared.
“Do not do this. I am yourmother.”
“You stopped being my mother centuries ago,” he spat, getting closer. “All I see now is the evil bitch who took away the person I cared about more than anything.”
The revelation stilled her, as it did Gertrude.
“Please, think about this. She will return.”
“Then why is she still dead?” he yelled, causing a murder of crows to take flight from a nearby tree.
Gertrude turned, lifting her hands as Nathaniel lunged at her.
The ancient spell crept through the ground, vines erupting through the earth, wrapping around his ankles until he was forced onto his knees.
Thorny vines bound his wrists and legs, and Charlotte was by his side, her fingers hovering over his face as he yelled, his pain now hers.
Come on. Get up.
While he could not hear her, something had changed. He forced himself up, snapping the vines, his lips curving into a sadistic grin when he watched his mother stumble backwards, before falling on the ground.
