Page 118 of Tainted Souls
“What?”
“The heliotrope pendant,” he clarifies. “The one you were wearing when you arrived here.” His tone remains even, conversational almost, but there’s an intensity to his focus that tells me this matters more than he’s letting on.
“I told you, some old woman gave it to me.”
“And I told you it was a necromantic conduit.” He reclines into the chair, claiming the space. One arm drapes over the back, fingers curled against his temple. “Do you know what one can do with such power? Communicate with the dead. Draw strength from them. Raise them.” He gestures to himself with the last two words. “The possibilities are endless, but never good, which is why I need to know every detail about that pendant during the time it was in your possession.”
“There’s nothing to tell,” I say, my voice raspy from thirst. “I wore it. Nothing happened.”
“Nothing? No unusual warmth? No visions? Voices? No reactions when others touched it?”
I hesitate, recalling Max’s fingers brushing against the stone as we sat in the solarium, the faint luminescence that had pulsed for just a moment before fading away.
Ace catches my hesitation instantly. His hand shoots out, gripping my chin with bruising force. “Answer me, Seraph.”
“I-it did something once.” I try to pull away from his grasp. “When Max put it on. The stone glowed faintly for just a split second. Nothing dramatic.”
His grip tightens, eyes narrowing. “Your lover?”
I nod, then he releases my chin, processing this new information.
“Did he say anything when it happened? Feel anything?”
I shake my head. “Nothing. He didn’t even notice the glow because it was so short-lived.”
Max. I hadn’t even let myself think about what the pendant might have done to him. Maybe I haven’t felt anything, because the pendant had been doing to him what it should’ve done to me instead? He was the first person to wear it. The mere possibility of having caused him danger without knowing curdles in my gut. What if I put a target on his back just by letting him touch it?
I try to push the thought down, but it’s already spreading like rot.
He’s already a vampire—because of me.
Before I can follow my fears to their end, Ace’s voice cuts in again, unabating and focused. “Tell me about what happened with Cain.”
The memory of my time in Cain’s lair rises unbidden. I hug my legs close, suddenly feeling trapped by more than just physical constraints.
“He wanted me to mate with him.” The words come out flat, shame curling at the edges. “He said the bond creates a bridge between souls, which can then be manipulated to allow certain qualities to flow from me to him, with the help of some eldritch ritual.”
Ace goes still, his eyes narrowing into something sharper. “Did he succeed? Did he—”
“No.” I lower my neckline, revealing the bloodied but unblemished skin beneath my collar bone. “He was waiting for the right alignment of stars, or something like that.”
Relief flashes across his face, gone so quickly I might have imagined it. “Final question, Seraph.” He uncorks the vial with his thumb, the rich metallic scent instantly filling the small cell. “If I let you live, what will you do?”
My fangs extend involuntarily, razorlike against my bottom lip. The question weighs with consequences I can only begin to imagine.
This isn’t just about my survival anymore—it’s about what I will do with the life I’m now practically begging for.
“I don’t know,” I say, the honesty surprising even me. “I can’t forget what you did to my father.”
For a long moment, he doesn’t speak, just watches me.
“I’m not asking you to forget,” he finally says. “I’m asking you to see beyond your personal vendetta to the larger threats we all face.”
I take a deep breath, clearing my mind and weighing my options: death, captivity, or a tentative alliance with the enemy of my enemy.
None of them are what I want, but only one offers a path forward.
“I won’t fight for you, but I’ll fight against Cain. For now, that puts us on the same side.”
