A Shade of Vampire 80 A Veil of Dark - Bella Forrest Page 0,90
You’ll take my place?” Ansel replied, still surprisingly defiant, though my ears still rang from the slaps he’d received.
“I have my own place. Now, shut up. Let’s go. She’s waiting outside.”
It took a tremendous amount of effort not to storm into that room. My chest burned, and my blood boiled, now knowing that Kalon had been keeping things from me. Important things, like his own dealings with the Darklings—of which there were some, at least, judging by what I’d just heard.
I glided down the stairs and disappeared outside, stopping by Midnight to stroke her neck, searching for a moment to just breathe and take it all in. I trembled from head to toe, heat rising from my combat suit. I welcomed the cool of the shade, trees towering around us.
Kalon had lied to me. He was involved with the Darklings. He knew about Ansel, too. The shock he’d feigned upon discovering his brother among them was most likely fabricated. I’d been played.
A sharp pain cut through my head, slicing my brain as memories I’d thought lost began to resurface. Kalon’s deception was a trigger, it seemed, because I remembered the ginger Darkling from that night in the basement.
I remembered hearing her voice, asking for mercy. Only Kalon had been left to answer, and… he did. I remembered the screech of his blade, the sound of her gurgling as he killed her. As blood and death filled the silence she left behind.
Trev had not been there. He’d already left. I was out of it—enough so that I didn’t remember all the details as soon as I awoke the next day. “Oh, my God,” I blurted, tears threatening to come up and break me.
I’d kissed him. He’d held me in his arms. We’d slept in the same warm little spot, under the night’s watchful eye, our souls touching…
Kalon’s lie came through. “She was already dead when I got there,” he’d said. He’d lied. He’d freaking lied, because he’d killed her! Why? Why did he do it? Was it because she would’ve recognized him as one of their own? Did she know him? Did they know each other?
Everything was connected, but I was on the outside, barely able to look in, let alone understand. All I knew was that I had fallen for Kalon, and that he had been lying to me. Midnight sensed my angst, nuzzling me and licking the side of my face. She tasted my tears, I realized. For I was already crying.
“Jeez,” I mumbled, rubbing my eyes and wiping my face. Several deep breaths later, I managed to force myself into a more focused state, though I was still boiling beneath the surface.
Kalon had lied to me. About the ginger Darkling. About the Darklings. About his brother. He’d withheld his own affiliation with this band of murderers. But he’d also saved my life, more than once. He’d helped me investigate. Not once had he tried to deflect or to sabotage my efforts. And it was his best friend that the Darklings were trying to kill.
Maybe it was too early to peg him as an evildoer. Maybe there was more to this story. Maybe I’d have to pay more attention. To ask the right questions. To listen carefully. This couldn’t be how it all ended between us. I did not want a tragedy on my hands, and I certainly didn’t want to get my heart broken.
But I could already feel it tearing itself in half. Aching. Pulsating. Bleeding.
“We’re ready,” Kalon said as he came through the doorway, startling me.
I spun around to face him, hoping he couldn’t see any of my emotions. My body had this funny way of shutting down when put on the spot like this. Ansel walked behind him, cuffs keeping his hands behind his back.
“Good,” I replied. “We’ve got a long ride ahead.”
I sounded exceptionally calm, given what I had just heard. What I had just realized.
Kalon stilled, frowning as he looked at me. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Absolutely,” I said, forcing myself to smile. Just seeing him brought back all the good feelings that had guided my judgment. The butterflies in my stomach. The shortness of breath. The daze of his kiss.
But the truth was never far behind. He’d lied. I repeated it to myself, over and over, hoping that it would stick. I would have to find a way to talk to him about it. How? When? What good way was there to ask if he’d betrayed me? If he’d kept things from me?