Allegiance(17)

Caden reached up to pinch my chin between his thumb and index finger and forced me to face him. “Amelie took the better part of seven hundred years to get better, Eve,” he explained gently. “And she killed her boyfriend. She had no one to blame but herself. Besides, I guilted her into sticking around, not to abandon me. She wouldn’t have lasted long enough to fall in love again otherwise. Bishop, though …” He turned to look at his best friend. “He watched Fiona die by someone else’s hands. He’ll stop at nothing for revenge.” Caden swallowed, as if not wanting to say the next words. When he finally did, as soft as they were delivered, they cut through me like a knife. “He might be better off dead, Evangeline.”

The tears poured freely now. I didn’t bother wiping them away. I hadn’t even come to terms with the loss of Fiona, and Caden was pretty much delivering Bishop’s death sentence. Was this how it was going to be? One by one, I would lose those I cared about as this war with the witches and the Sentinel took shape. Until when? Until I had nothing left? Until I was gone?

No. Everyone could overcome loss and death. I did. Amelie did. Now, Bishop would. He had to. I pulled away from Caden and slowly walked over to where Bishop sat. I crouched down onto my knees in front of him. It was so strange, seeing him like that. The vampire who had willingly battled a grizzly in order to protect me, the goofy guy who had baited a leech for me, the friend whose unrestrained laughter and gentle ribbing kept smiles on my face in the most desperate times, was now in an open-eyed coma of endless agony.

I cleared my throat. “You need to be strong, my friend,” I whispered softly, my voice cracking. “You will get through this. You have us. We’ll help you. We can’t lose you too, Bishop.” Tentatively, I reached forward to let my fingers graze his knee. With a second’s contact, an uncomfortable current pulsed through my fingertips, like an electric shock. It wasn’t painful but certainly unpleasant. It had to be Sofie’s magical binding. Should I be able to feel it? Gritting my teeth, I ignored it, forcing my hand on his knee, bracing myself for the zap. I could survive this much at least. Bishop needed to know we were there for him. We couldn’t just abandon him, write him off as damaged goods, irreparable.

The current continued at a steady pace through me, though it wasn’t nearly as intense as I’d expected. I gave his knee a squeeze of reassurance. No reaction … He stared at nothing, vacuous gray eyes lost in yesterday. Leaning in, I stared fixedly into those catatonic eyes, searching for some shred of the Bishop I knew, some spark I could seize and pull out.

As if suddenly snapping to, black pupils shifted and locked on mine. Despair and loneliness crashed into me like the waves of an angry ocean, ready to pull me under, to suffocate me in its power. All his loss, all his pain, all his anger came pouring out of that one eye shift. I was suddenly absorbing Bishop’s pain, living his agony. Impulsively, I dove forward, my arms wrapping around his shoulders in an awkward hug. “I’m so sorry, Bishop. I’d do anything to bring her back if I could.” That’s when the violent sobs finally began.

“Okay, there’s no time for crying.” Mortimer’s thick booming voice cut in, gruffer than usual. “It’s time you got some sleep.” Strong hands wrenched me away from Bishop. He towed me toward the door. “Come. I’ll help you back to your room,” he muttered, his lips tight.

One last glimpse at Caden revealed his tortured expression. I sucked in my sobs and let Mortimer drag me out into the dark hallway, his arm now linked with mine, as if we were out for an evening stroll. A stroll with a stiff-bodied, stern-faced, grumpy vampire. Before Rachel’s death, I might’ve passed out from fright in this situation. But then Mortimer tossed my enemy into the flames—for no other reason than because he “owed me one.” He didn’t scare me so much anymore. That didn’t mean I enjoyed his prickly company. I just wasn’t waiting for him to kill me.

We walked at a fairly brisk pace, thanks to Mortimer’s long legs and no-nonsense speed. As we passed that same spot in the hallway, the tingling pull of familiarity hit me again, a fresh wave of connection, like safety and imminent danger jumbled together. My legs slowed until Mortimer was dragging me.

“What’s the matter?” he snapped, dissecting me with a quizzical glare.

Opening my mouth to explain, I paused, considering how I’d explain this without sounding crazy. I decided that I wouldn’t. It was probably nothing. Just me, slowly losing my mind. “Nothing. Just tired.”