Page 30 of Entombed By Blood
“She’s never seen ahover carbefore, Gideon. I remember the first time we saw them, back in Boston, but it’s not just that. She missed the invention of computers, satellites, planes…”
“She’ll be fine. Immortals aren’t easy to break.”
“I’m not so sure. She asked about her sisters.”
I stiffen. “And you told her…?”
“The truth, but not all of it.”
I understand his reticence, but it’s not the sort of thing we can put off. Evelyn’s sisters are so distant from one another that I doubt Evelyn’s expecting a warm, squishy reunion with them. If she is, she’s going to get a horrible surprise.
“You should have. She’s supposed to be reintroduced to the Court within the week.”
I don’t give him a chance to reply, striding from the room with a glance at my watch.
There are eyes on me as soon as I exit the elevator and cross the lobby of the Bloody Tower. I know everyone in the city is dying to get a glimpse ofher, and though security keeps the nosey civilians away, the staff give me curious looks. I don’t meet their stares as I pass. Don’t give them a chance to ask the questions they so desperately want answers to.
I waste no time in leaving the building and crossing the street into Eden Park. Cain won’t have me followed, and the hairs on my neck gradually relax the farther I go. We spent a lot of time working to gain his trust, and it’s paying off now.
The huge public garden was once known as Central Park before the Triumph saw New York remodelled to fit Cain’s new world order. The newly installed vampire overlords were swift in renaming everything from buildings to whole countries.
I understand it, in a way. What better way is there to show that you own the world than by renaming things at your leisure? Cain’s destructive sons gave their father plenty of lessons in conquest before they were executed, one by one. His daughters are longer lived than the siblings who came before them, but they’re also permitted far less freedom.
I pass the Five Daughters Fountain and scoff at the five bronze statues pouring water into the lake from their hands.
Cain had it commissioned to celebratethe centennial of his new world, but it’s really just another obvious and grim reminder of who’s in charge.
The artist did their best, but it doesn’t live up to the reality of Evelyn. Not that they had much to work from.
Very few people still live who remember exactly what Evelyn looks like. There are no paintings, photos, or even descriptions of her. Cain tried his best to erase both daughters when he imprisoned them in that tomb. I’m sure that the statue of Imogen is even less accurate.
My walk takes me deep into the woodland areas before I catch that familiar scent: roses, leather, and death.
I’ve never met another ghoul with such a complex scent. Most of them just smell of grave dirt and blood.
He’s different. One of a kind.
I follow the trail away from the path and into the North Woods.
Frost is waiting for me beneath an outcropping, his sword drawn.
The ghoul’s hair is artfully shaggy, and his eyes are dark as he stares at me. His nostrils flare, taking in Evelyn’s scent.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I scold, in place of a greeting. “Cain has eyes everywhere. He’ll kill her if you get too close.”
“Eyes everywhere? I wouldn’t have guessed,” a familiar dry voice makes the corner of my lips turn up in a smile. “Calm down, I’ve made sure we’re as safe as we can be.”
Finley steps out of the darkness behind the leader of the resistance, his round glasses askew as he fiddles with a tiny piece of tech.
My omega’s cropped short hair and matching dark goatee are meticulously trimmed, his warm brown skin illuminated by the white light coming from... whatever it is he’s messing with now. His looks are so delicate they’re almost feminine, but where other men in his position would use those looks for fame, Finley would rather be elbow deep in wires and code. He loves shopping and caring for the pack as much as the next omega, but he’s smarter than all of us combined.
The youngest of our pack, he wasn’t even born when Evelyn was being forced into her coffin. Though he’s technically eighty-six, his youth and natural submissiveness make all of us more than a little protective.
Not that age means anything to our pack.
If it did, Vane would be in charge, and he’d rather die than accept the position.
No, one of our pack alphas isn’t even lycan.
