Devilish Game (Shadow Guild: The Rebel 4)

“Sure.” Carrow smiled. “Thank you for the help.”

Cyrenthia nodded, her gaze still glued on us. It burned.

“Come.” I nodded my thanks to Cyrenthia and turned. “We should go.”

“There’s no we any longer,” Cyrenthia said.

Of course. I turned back to Carrow, unable to believe it all ended here, in a shite part of town with a blood sorceress watching our corpses with the avarice of a vulture. “Goodbye, Carrow.”

She blinked, looking almost surprised, then hurried after me out of the shop.

Carrow

Grey moved quickly out of Cyrenthia’s place, and I had to hustle to keep up. My chest felt so . . .strange.

I’d felt the bond break. It had snapped like a twig, leaving me feeling empty and hollow. Cyrenthia said I would feel its absence, and that I would mourn.

She was right.

Yet, Grey wasn’t a stranger to me. I still cared. True, the insane pull toward him that I’d been feeling had vanished. That heavy hand of fate.

But I still felt for him—how could I not?

We could just never be together, or the curse might return. Pain pierced my heart.

Yet he was so much healthier looking now. This had been worth it. We’d had no other choice.

I caught up with him about halfway down the alley, squeezing alongside him. He looked down, surprised. “We shouldn't spend time together.”

“I-I know.” I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I risk your life by pushing.”

He spun toward me, his entire form vibrating with suppressed emotion. “It’s not that. You shouldn’t be so confident in my strength.”

“You would never hurt me.” I’d tried to get him to take my blood when I’d lain dying, and he’d refused. “You would never do what fate compels you to.”

“I wouldn’t. But there is a beast inside me, Carrow. The vampire within is not always controlled by the man. As my strength waned these last days, the beast fought to rise, as it had in the past. You weren’t there then, but when the beast gains control and is driven by blood lust, there is no fighting it. I can’t guarantee that I would not turn on you.”

He loomed over me, and my back pressed against the wall. All around, the tall buildings rose high, overhanging the street and creating a tunnel. I should have been afraid, but I couldn’t be.

“You wouldn’t hurt me.” I knew it. Just like I knew that the alternative to hurting me was his death. Cyrenthia was right. We couldn’t be around each other. We couldn’t fall for each other. “I never should have followed you. I’m sorry.”

He drew in an unsteady breath and stepped backward, composing himself. “I apologize for losing my temper.”

I nodded and, together, we left the alley in silence. As soon as we stepped onto the brighter main street, a woman appeared in front of us.

Mary, my witch friend. Her magenta eyes were wild, and her pink hair messy. She wore a glittery silver dress that was more suited to midnight than the middle of the day, but the witches marched to the beat of their own drummer.

“Hi, Mary.”

“Carrow.” Her tone was frantic. “You need to help me. Beth has been taken.”

“Beth?” I hadn’t seen the other witch in a few days. “Taken? What do you mean?”

“She was taken right off the street.” Her voice shook. “We’re looking for her, of course, but nothing is working. It’s just been so . . . so . . .”

Her words trailed off, and her wild eyes searched the alley around us.

“Come here. Let’s sit down.” She really needed a seat. So did I. Beth was one of my friends. Worry made my heart race. I gestured for her to follow me toward a small garden that was nestled between two buildings across the street. A bench beckoned.