Chain Me (The Ellie Gray Chronicles Book 2)

by Lana Sky

  Rich, dark skin set him apart from the colorless backdrop. Closely cropped black hair enhanced his stern features, no less beautiful than Dublin or Raphael’s. In contrast to their formal dress, he was wearing a plain gray shirt and jeans that seemed insulting in comparison to the regal tilt to his chin.

  I knew his name instantly, even without an introduction. Mero.

  “And now,” he declared in a voice that reverberated like thunder, “we may begin. Did you really think I’d let you confront me without allowing dear Eleanor to hear the truth as well?”

  He was speaking to someone I didn’t realize was standing nearby until I turned, spotting him there. Dublin. Confusion mingled with the fear goading my pulse into a surging rhythm. François had claimed the crypt was protected—a vampire could only enter invited.

  Though Mero supposedly had invested in the Grays since our humble beginnings. In a sense, this land belonged to him over anyone else.

  And he had presented Dublin with an invitation he couldn’t refuse.

  “And here I am,” my Devil said, his arms outstretched. “You lured her here, and why? So that she can see how callously you toy with her family? Go on and reveal your final pawn.”

  “My pawn? I made it no secret that I held her.” The man grinned in a stunning display of white teeth and stood. Gracile movements propelled him upright with the elegance of a dancer. “You merely chose to run and hide rather than face me, Cael. But alas, here you finally are. So, as you wish…” He brushed his hand across the lid of the sarcophagus behind him. The simple gesture seemed incapable of the strength required to knock the stone slab aside in a cloud of dust.

  I stiffened in anticipation of a body—and there was one.

  A woman lay slumped in the pit of the coffin, visible even from where I was standing. Tangled blond hair shielded her face, but her softly rising chest and the pink hue of her skin revealed that she was alive.

  “Georgie?” I cried out, rushing to her. Cold, hard stone scraped my knees as I crouched and plunged my arm into the cavernous space in search of her hand. “Georgie?”

  Her eyes were closed, her body unmoving. But her clothing… I swallowed hard, racked by confusion. The faint illumination in the chamber was just enough for me to make out her pink shirt and jeans. It was the same outfit she’d worn the day I screamed at her to leave.

  “She is alive,” Mero explained. “Despite her slumber, she’ll suffer no lasting damage.”

  “Her letter,” I croaked, stroking the hair from her face. I didn’t even care that I was speaking to a creature even Dublin seemed to fear. Facing him, I demanded, “She tried to contact me. How?”

  He smiled. Unlike with Raphael, emotion shaped his handsome features, giving them life. Definition. And in a way, the subtle nuances in his expression only served to enhance his imposing nature. “I woke her when it suited my needs,” he said softly. “But you can rest assured that little she did was under her own will.”

  Including the bounty on my head? I tried to ask, but Dublin’s voice sliced over mine, harsh and biting.

  “And now what?” he demanded. “You want me to kill her? Slice her throat in front of her sister to prove once and for all what a damned, selfish creature I am? I know how your mind works.”

  “Is that why you have waited this long to face me?” Mero laughed as he turned to him. “I won’t harm the girl. She knows nothing to be a danger to you, regardless. Nor will I harm your Eleanor. Why would I?” He raised a hand and slowly curled the fingers into a fist as if trapping my soul within them. “Killing her now would be a mercy to you.”

  “Don’t touch her.” Dublin lurched onto the tips of his toes, his teeth bared as Mero shifted his attention to me. But he didn’t come closer, not even as the other vampire’s hand settled over my scalp in dangerous reassurance.

  “No. You would rage and attack me of course—but in the end, you would thank me. I would save you from it, this pain…” He stroked me once and withdrew his hand, placing the outstretched fingers over his heart. “This knowledge that there could have been so much more. No, Cael. I am afraid that what you truly fear will come to pass. I suspect you’ve already inferred as much.”

  He inclined his head, but Dublin said nothing.

  Silence filled the chamber, unbearable in its all-encompassing weight.

  “She will die,” Mero finally declared. “As will your mortal child. But they will live before that day will come. Live and wither before your eyes to the point that even your blood will cease to have an effect. You can never turn them. Never chase them beyond the void.” His voice softened, a lethal hiss as his gaze returned to his old friend’s. “You will know what true love, and joy, and peace are, and then you will watch it slip away through your fingers, swallowed by time. And like me, you will not have the mercy or option of death. You know that now, don’t you?”

  Slowly, he advanced on Dublin’s position, but his posture wasn’t triumphant or mocking. Everything from the set of his shoulders to the tilt of his jaw conveyed only one emotion above all others.

  Pity.

  “In the end, you will come to know what true despair is, Cael,” he murmured. “True madness. She will never be more beautiful to you than her next breath. You will grow to love her more by the second until you swear your soul can no longer contain it. And you will grow to hate her.” He extended his fingers toward me in a fatherly gesture. “For her innocence. Her freedom. Her fragility. I pity you, my friend. Adara’s magic turned out to be far crueler than I could have ever imagined.”

  He drifted toward the doorway and then looked back at me from the threshold, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. “She wasn’t supposed to love you in return. That I did not foresee. And now that you have sold yourself to Raphael for more time than she could ever outlive, you will truly suffer.”

  He slipped from the room, but Dublin didn’t follow.

  And as if carried on an unseen wind, Mero’s voice drifted back to us regardless.

  “Know that I will be watching, old friend. Waiting. I will even leave the other Gray girl, for now… But I will return, merely to witness the moment you truly understand. There is no end to this life awaiting us. No end to the pain.” A heavy sigh trailed the words as his voice softened, barely a whisper. “This beautiful, innocent creature you cherish will one day be an agonizing memory. And then we shall see in just how many ways I can extend your suffering…”

  As if a spell had been broken, Dublin finally lurched into action. He raced through the doorway, a blur of motion. “Stay here,” he hissed back to me.

  I couldn’t move even if I had the strength to.

  My hand remained entwined with Georgie’s, gripping her fingers though hers remained limp in response.

  Despair, that bitter poison, lurked on the edges of my psyche, desperate to invade the second I allowed it to.

  But I couldn’t. Because if I surrendered to it now, even for a second, I would never rise from its depths again.

  Eventually, footsteps approached, clattering over the stone.

  “All is well, I hope?” a man called out. His voice sounded distorted, as if he spoke from outside of the structure, though I recognized his dry tone regardless. Dmitri. “If it really is how you say for the other one… My, my, he must have used quite the powerful drug on her delicate soul. Curing it could take some time—”

  “It’s all right, Eleanor,” Dublin warned.

  I hadn’t even realized I was on my feet, hissing through my teeth as he approached the coffin.

  “I can help her,” Dublin insisted. But his eyes were averted away from me, his voice cold. In silence, he retreated and the sight of his back lingered even after my vision blurred with tears.

  A Dangerous Game

  “You sold your soul to Raphael for more time than she could ever outlive.”

  Mero’s return could have been a cruel nightmare, easily banished as I awoke in my bed to brilliant sunlight. The old Eleanor would have certainly taken tha
t lifeline—ignorance.

  Denial.

  She would have pushed the terror to the back of her mind and merrily embraced her terminal cancer.

  But I couldn’t. Ten years had never seemed so daunting a timespan. Or so little.

  And if Raphael’s power could extend over Dublin the way his power had controlled Yulia, I didn’t have to try hard to imagine what awaited us both as soon as my pathetic hold on his soul came to an end.

  Moving as stiffly as an old woman, I stood, cradling my belly with the flat of my hand. Tears burned behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Instead, I wandered the manor in a daze, finding no one in the upstairs hall.

  Though I’d sensed his presence in my room throughout the night, it was as though Dublin were intentionally avoiding me now. My sole company was Dmitri, who was lurking within the main drawing room, reading a book as I wandered past.

  “Morning,” he groused, biting his lower lip. “Before you panic, your Dublin is nearby. In fact, he politely informed me that my services are no longer needed.” He did his best to parrot Dublin’s raspy baritone, but even then, his voice wasn’t anywhere near deep enough. “Alas, I am waiting for my jet to be refueled…” He trailed off and looked up from his book, eyeing my face with a raised eyebrow. “What is it, my dear?”

  “I need a favor.” I crossed my arms, too exhausted to put effort to even attempt to intimidate him. So I improvised. “Deny me and I’ll tell Dublin you tried to touch me in my sleep.”

  “Oh?” He set his book aside, his head cocked. “However can I help you?”

  “Don’t pretend like you don’t already have a price in mind. Name it.”

  He smirked. “You misunderstand me, my dear. I know when exactly my services will be repaid. Everything I’ve done hasn’t been for you.” He eyed my stomach and reached out, boldly brushing his fingers against my abdomen. Even as I jerked beyond his reach, he kept his hand extended, chuckling. “It’s been for her. My, what an interesting creature she will be. I would think of myself as her godfather of sorts. I am sure she will repay me more than enough for all of my exertions.”

  “What makes you think I wouldn’t kill you before you could ever touch her?” Both hands shielded my stomach now.

  His smile widened further. “Of course, my dear. I have no doubt that you could… Now, what did you want?”

  “I need a distraction,” I said hoarsely, choosing to overlook his assertion for now. “A very big distraction.”

  “Ah. You wish to lure the wolf from his lamb.” His eyes narrowed, skeptical. “Ah, knowing his current mood, I suspect you plan to deceive him for good reason?”

  “Can you do it or not?”

  He frowned, betraying genuine unease for once. “There are antics I could perform that would draw him away from you. In fact, they all tend to carry an uncomfortably high risk of my death.” He brushed his fingers along his throat.

  And I bared mine in response, a dare in my tone. “Well, I suppose that’s the risk you’ll have to take, isn’t it?”

  “My my.” A slow smile unfurled over his lips and he clapped his hands. “Oh, I do love this side of you! All right, you’ve convinced me. I can buy you an hour.” He stood and approached the foyer. “But I will warn you that you should act quickly. And.” He grinned and nodded to his discarded book. “I’ve already taken the liberty of mapping out your destination should you require it. Call it a hunch.”

  He wandered out of reach before I could demand an answer.

  Not that I needed one.

  This all felt like some twisted, unending game in which everyone but me had a clear view of the gameboard.

  The only way to win was to give in to the one impulse that had never steered me wrong—stubborn childishness.

  If I couldn’t play on their terms, I would merely have to upend the entire damn table in defiance of it all.

  I was in my room when I finally heard it: a door slamming below, betraying a figure racing through the manor so quickly that I barely scrambled down the stairs in time to catch him.

  “Yulia,” he muttered before taking off, an apology lurking in his gaze. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  I watched him go; then I spun on my heel and tore across the manor. Past the servant’s quarters, the garage loomed empty, the old family Rolls stationed in its usual spot—newly repaired, its backseat door fully intact. Banishing all doubt, I snatched the keys from their customary hook and climbed behind the steering wheel before I could talk myself out of the insane plan forming within my brain.

  Driving was a terrifying, jerking excursion following Dmitri’s scribbled directions, but eventually, I reached my destination unscathed.

  A warehouse on the outskirts of the city, its brick façade containing a world of darkness within.

  The entrance was unguarded, the door inexplicably unlocked. Perhaps such creatures felt no need to repel potential thieves; after all, they’d simply make for more fodder to sell.

  I, for one, was through with having my soul bartered, however.

  I barged into the structure with my head held high. A darkened hallway provided little by way of navigation. So I boldly marched from room to room until a furious Saskia appeared within the mouth of a doorway, dressed in a blood-red robe.

  “What the hell are you—”

  “Summon Raphael,” I demanded, cutting her off mid-hiss. “Now. I wish to make a bargain.”

  I was afraid the ancient vampire would arrive far past my deadline, giving Dublin plenty of time to track me down—but a chill preceded his arrival before I could panic.

  “Eleanor Gray.” He stood alone at the back of the chamber Saskia had sequestered me in. Judging from the cavernous space, it was where that impromptu showcase had taken place, though now only two chairs positioned across from each other remained.

  Raphael retained his regal aura, even at what I guessed was an unwelcome hour for him. His lifeless eyes honed in on me with interest. Today, in lieu of a cape, he was wearing a simple black suit with an unbuttoned ivory shirt underneath. Visible against the pale skin of his chest hung a silver pendant in the shape of a serpent. As he approached, its red eyes studied me, flickering like hellish flames.

  “I was surprised to receive your request, I must admit. To what do I owe this visit?”

  “I want to bargain,” I confessed, meeting his gaze. “Via contract.”

  “Oh?” A cold smile twitched over his mouth, quickly suppressed in an instant. “In exchange for Dublin’s, I suspect?” His laugh echoed, toneless and hollow. “You hope to trade your time for his. I’m sure I could find a use for you in some capacity.”

  “No,” I admitted, my throat tight. “Not a trade, but a wager. The winner will take everything.”

  “Everything?” His eyebrow flickered, too frozen to rise fully.

  But I had something so powerful and elusive that I knew better to squander it by wasting time: his interest.

  “Dublin’s time that you have in addition to mine. Every year I have left to live. That is what will be on the table.”

  “Oh?” Another smile twisted his lips, but there was no amusement within the expression. Just hunger. “On what wager?”

  “The amount of time doesn’t matter,” I admitted. “I want us to bet it all on one simple outcome: How will Dublin react when you tell him?”

  “With relief, I suspect,” Raphael mused, clasping his fingers together. He drifted to the chair across from me and sat. I shivered, subjected to his chill despite the distance. “Pity for you, perhaps, but relief nonetheless. Do you truly think you mean that much to him?” He waited for a second and then sighed as if my silence alone contained my reply. “The man has spent years pining for his time. I am sorry, dear girl, but I believe the answer is too obvious to take advantage of your naivety.”

  “Even if I claim differently?” In response to the amused tilt of his chin, I lifted a folded slip of paper, previously hidden in my jacket until now. “My guess as to his reaction
is on this paper. I’m assuming you’ll think he’ll leave in gratitude, and if you are correct, then you own us both.”

  He eyed me in silence. Just when I feared he may never speak, a pink tongue flitted across his lower lip. “And if you win?”

  I inhaled raggedly. Even inside my head, the plot seemed insane. Madness.

  Something reckless enough to befit the broken little lamb Dublin had described me as.

  “If I win, then Dublin is free and you agree to never threaten me or…or our daughter.”

  “And how do I know that this isn’t a planned arrangement?”

  Despite everything, I had to laugh, and his eyes narrowed at the hysterical sound.

  “Do you really think Dublin would let me meet with you alone, even as part of some harebrained scheme?”

  Hence, I was here on a whim, trembling as the seconds ticked past, cutting my brief window of time shorter and shorter.

  Raphael cocked his head as if catching a far-off sound. “Of course…” In a dazzling display, his smile widened. “Well, then we have a deal, my dear. And just in time, I suspect.”

  He turned to the door as a figure appeared there, his eyes blazing silver. They cut to me and he was beside me in an instant, shielding me with his towering frame.

  “Eleanor—”

  “It’s okay,” I told Dublin, bracing my hand over his forearm. Coiled muscle lurched beneath my fingertips, readying for battle. “Everything is okay. I’ve gotten your time back.”

  “In exchange for her own,” Raphael murmured. His eyes danced, portraying something akin to glee. “Every year of her life, sacrificed for you. It is very touching.” He brought a pale hand to his chest. “What say you, Dublin? Do you accept this freedom so graciously bestowed upon—”

  “No!” In a blur of motion, Dublin whirled on me, his expression agonized. Gripping my shoulders, he yanked me from my chair and shook me so violently that my head jerked back and forth. “Tell me that you didn’t—”