Lost in Time (Blue Bloods 6)

Last night, when they were together, he had sworn that nothing had happened in Florence; that she knew the whole truth, and this feeling she had—that something terrible had happened—was just her guilt manifesting itself as fear. He said he would never lie to her, had never once lied to her. She believed it was her guilt at her mistake that was keeping them estranged. He had asked her to forgive herself so that together they could continue to keep their world safe. She had healed him, and she could feel the bond strengthen between them with each kiss they exchanged.

Last night, after he had pledged his honesty and his love, they had returned to each other. She had thought she’d come to the end of their separation at last. But now it seemed they were standing at the precipice once more.

“I told you the truth. I don’t understand—who have you spoken to?” he asked.

“What have you done, Charles? Who was in that ambulance? What really happened between us in Florence?” She clenched her fists. “I cannot be part of a lie. I don’t know what’s true, I don’t know what to believe. But I’m starting to think that maybe Cordelia and Lawrence were right all those years ago.”

“You’re throwing Roanoke in my face again? Is that it?”

Charles accused. “You know there was never any other substantive evidence of—”

“No matter what you say, I know you’re hiding something, and you’re not sharing it with me, and that is the real reason we are estranged. Not my mistake. Not my guilt.

Something you did, Charles. Something you did has changed the history of our world. I can feel it. That is the reason why I don’t love you the way I did before. Because even if I don’t remember what happened, I know.”

“Allegra, please. Listen to yourself. This is preposterous—these things you are accusing me of—how can you hate me so much. I promised you I would keep our people safe, and I have.”

“You are going to destroy us with your blindness and your pride.”

“The gates are holding! I gave my strength to their cre-ation. There is nothing to fear.”

She did not hear him. “You will destroy us until we are nothing but shadows of our former glory. We have lost so much already. Paradise is closed to us forever and still you do not understand,” she cried. “You’re not the same person you used to be. Something’s happened to you… and you won’t let me help you.”

Charles’s tone turned icy. “Allegra, why are you here? If you will not return to me, then why?”

“I don’t know. I think I just wanted to see you again for the last time.”

“You will bond with your human familiar, is that it?”

“Yes.”

Charles held his head in his hands and rubbed his temples. When he spoke, his voice was dark and terrible. “Do what you want, but know that I am destroyed if you bond with him. You will never see me again. We shall be estranged forever. I will not be able to survive this, Allegra. Know that my life is in your hands. You have seen what the bond can do.”

“It’s too late, Charlie. You’ve lied to me for the last time.

You made your choice. This is mine.” The bond will claim its own. Perhaps she would die, and perhaps Charles would as well. She did not know. Regardless, it was up to her to find a way to stop whatever he had set in motion, whatever he was keeping from her, whatever was causing vampires to disappear. She was Gabrielle the Uncorrupted, Queen of the Coven.

She had a duty to her people. She did not know if she would succeed, but she had to try to undo what he had done.

As Allegra walked out of the room, she was sure of one thing. She would never see Charles Van Alen—Michael, her former beloved—again. Not in this world and not in this lifetime or any other.

It was not only Charles’s immortal heart that broke that day.

FORTY-SIX

Dangerous Harvest

Deming Chen kicked off her jeweled heels.

She’d run so far she had no idea she was still wearing them until she stumbled on a stone in the indoor courtyard.

During her week at the castle, she had learned several things.

most important, that it was better to be quiet. She had fought, shown her claws and her strength too early, and so she had been chosen for this punishment. She’d heard that Dehua and Schuyler had been able to get away from their ladies-in-waiting, who had been blamed for the loss, and she was annoyed with herself for having made things harder on herself by attacking too soon. She should have waited until she was alone with only the Red Bloods instead of trying to skewer that ugly toad of a demon who’d picked her for his bride.

She’d weathered an entire week in the company of those simpering ladies, who hated her already because her friends had escaped and gotten them into trouble. The women pulled her hair when they combed it, and laughed at her inability to walk in the high-heeled slippers. Her groom, the demon Baal, had visited her once she had been transformed into a proper little whore: her hair a glossy black, lips a pouty scarlet, breasts rouged and powdered, lifted and presented in the skin-tight halter.

Baal was large and terrifying, with two great horns on his wide forehead, and a long black beard. He towered over her, but Deming was not afraid. When he inspected her form and cupped her breasts, she spit in his face. But he had only chuckled.