“Draw Miss Ryan a bath,” Rath instructs the woman. She darts off without hesitation. Rath turns to Antonio. “You lock down the house. No one comes in tonight. No matter what.”
The man nods and heads off.
“Come on,” Rath says. He’s still holding onto me and it’s only now that I realize how much of my weight he is supporting. He winces as we try to make our way toward the stairs.
As we round the corner into the foyer, I see the dead body lying in the middle of the floor. When we get closer, I see it’s one of the gardeners. Juan.
There’s a knife embedded into his back.
Somehow still possible, my face blanches all the more.
But I don’t ask. My brain can’t process more. More death. More blood. More everything. I concentrate on taking the stairs one at a time.
Rath guides me into the bathroom where the water is running and the water is frothing with bubbles. When I simply stand there, numb and empty, Rath instructs Angelica to help me undress and get into the water.
Most of the blood was soaked into my dress, but a healthy amount covers my arms, my chest, and my face, so the water of the bath instantly turns a shade of pink.
It’s a literal bloodbath.
When the water is full, the woman shuts it off and exits the room. I hear Rath muttering quietly to her, but the words don’t process in my brain.
Rath limps into the room. I see the nasty gash in his leg. Wide and gaping. But not bleeding like it probably should. There’s another gash down his opposite arm, and claw marks down one side of his face.
He’s a wreck.
“Are you ready?” he asks as he sits on the divan. The bathroom is idiotically large enough to accommodate it.
For the first time, I meet his eyes. They’re deep and dark. They’re prepared and calm. Same as always.
Dependable, loyal Rath.
I’m so lucky to have him. Just as my father was.
I swallow, and nod.
Because I have to be. I have to not drown. I have to know how the events of the night happened.
“I was in the library,” Rath says. He rubs his dark hands together, but doesn’t look at them. I think they are itching for action. “Listing what would need to be done to the house to prepare for your resurrection. It was an hour until I needed to give Ian his next dose and I planned to give it to him in thirty minutes. Juan came in, which should have tipped me off. The garden staff have no business being in the house in the middle of the night. But he’s worked for the family for years with not a sign of betrayal. He said he needed to talk to me.”
My eyes fall to the injury on Rath’s leg.
“He pulled a blade on me before I could react. He caught me off guard, and I’m ashamed of that,” he looks away from me.
I should comfort him. Tell him that there was no way he could know. That he should be able to trust his own staff. But I’m too angry. Too full of everything, that if I open the doors, it all with come pouring out of me and then there will be nothing left but an empty skin bag full of bones.
“I went down and couldn’t even fight him off—or the Bitten that Juan then let in through the damn front door. The Bitten grabbed Ian from his room and was out the door in less than ten seconds. But Juan can’t move as fast as a vampire.”
I imagine the scene. Rath on the floor of the library, bleeding out. But grabbing a knife from somewhere on his person, I have little doubt, and embedding it in Juan’s back. Ending his life right then.
“I failed this family,” Rath says in a cool and even voice. His eyes fall to the marble floor. “And for that, I am truly sorry.”
Rath is strong. He’s a rock. He doesn’t make mistakes.
So seeing him, him like this. It’s what finally breaks me.
I reach over, take his hand in mine. And let the tears consume me.
DURING THE BRIGHTEST LIGHT OF the next day, Rath goes with Elle to collect Ian’s body. I ask him to go, and he does with shame in his eyes.
No police will be called. There will be no murder investigation. There will be no trial and no prison time.
There will only be a devastated grandmother and little sister. There will only be a body in a box and a hole in the ground.
It all happens very quickly, and I can only figure it is with Rath’s taking control. A burial plot is arranged, right next to George and Cora Ward’s headstones. The following morning, a hearse drives Ian’s body to the grave.
I lock everything up. I put my pain in a box and hide it in the darkness of my soul. It won’t be let out until the time is right. But right now, I simply need strength. I stand beside Elle, holding her hand. Lula stands on the other side of her. She mutters things under her breath every once in a while, shaking her head. About every two minutes, she shoots a dark glare in my direction.