Total pages in book: 241
Estimated words: 229266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1146(@200wpm)___ 917(@250wpm)___ 764(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 229266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1146(@200wpm)___ 917(@250wpm)___ 764(@300wpm)
“I did what he’d done. Sliced him open and let him bleed. He was a vampry, but it was not without pain.” Casteel’s eyes burned with golden fire. “And then I killed him.”
“Good,” I whispered.
A measure of surprise flickered across his face. “There was very little dignity in his death.”
That was true. “But he’s dead now?”
Casteel nodded.
“At least it was a…relatively quick death.” I didn’t feel even remotely bad that the knight had suffered. And maybe I should be concerned about that. I probably would be later. I took a deep breath. “How many were lost?”
How many names would be added to the walls?
“Four were killed, in addition to Mrs. Tulis. Six seriously wounded, but they will survive.”
My heart ached. “What of the boy? He’s okay, right?”
His gaze turned sheltered, and suddenly I remembered what Casteel had said. He didn’t let the boy go. I rose onto my elbows. “The boy is okay, right? That’s the only reason why I laid down my dagger. Chaney said he’d let the boy go.”
“He did what all Ascended do. He lied.” Tension bracketed his mouth as I jerked. “The only blessing was that it was a quick death. His neck was snapped. He wasn’t fed upon.”
For several moments, I couldn’t think. I couldn’t even speak as the image of the boy’s wide, panic-stricken gaze filled my mind. Horror and grief seized me. “Why?” A knot clogged my throat. “Why would he do that? Why kill him and not even feed upon him? What was the point?”
“You’re asking for an answer to something that not even I can fully comprehend,” he replied quietly. “The vampry did it because he wanted to and because he could.”
Closing my eyes, I pressed my lips together as my heart squeezed and twisted. Tears burned the backs of my eyes, and I wanted to—I wanted to scream. I wanted to rage at the pointlessness of it all.
I didn’t know how long it took me to gain control, to not burst into tears or fall headfirst into the helplessness-induced rage. I’d done all that I could to save that boy, and it meant nothing. Nothing. He would still be just another name added to a long, endless list of them. And for what? And the Tulis’s son? I knew in my heart of hearts that he too was dead. I exhaled raggedly as I lay back down, smoothing my hands over my face. My cheeks were damp.
Casteel remained quiet, silent and watchful. When I opened my eyes again, I asked, “What was his name?”
“Renfern Octis,” he told me.
“And his parents?” I asked hoarsely.
“His parents died some time ago. His mother by a Craven, and his father to sickness. His uncle and aunt cared for him.”
“Gods,” I whispered, staring at the rafters. “I…I saw the knight take him. I couldn’t stand by and watch that happen.”
“I’d hoped that you would, but I wouldn’t have expected anything less from you.”
My bleary gaze shifted to him. The words weren’t spoken in annoyance. I thought I detected respect in them. “That’s why you gave me my dagger.”
Casteel said nothing.
“Do…do you have it?”
He nodded.
I started to ask for it back, but Casteel said, “No matter how much death I’ve seen, it never gets easier.” His lashes lowered, shielding his gaze. “It’s never less shocking. I’m glad for that, because I think if it ever does stop shocking me, I might stop valuing life. So, I welcome that shock and the grief. If not, I would be no better than an Ascended.”
What I’d said to him the other day soured on my tongue. “I know you’re not like them—like the Ascended. I shouldn’t have said that to you.”
Casteel stared at me for so long, I started to grow concerned. But then he said, “You’re not going to ask if you’ll turn into a Craven now? You’re not angry that I gave you my blood?”
“I know I’m not going to turn into a Craven.” I sat up easily and leaned against the headboard. “Did you use compulsion?”
“Not to make you drink. You were surprisingly amicable to that, which caused me to worry all the more,” he told me, and I was suddenly grateful that I had no recollection of that. “Once you started to feel the…effects of my blood, I did use compulsion to help you sleep. I assumed you would appreciate that.”
Considering how I’d reacted the last time, I did appreciate that. I drew a leg up under the blanket. “I’m not mad. I don’t hurt, and I would’ve been in a lot of pain.” I looked at my arm again, still shocked to see nothing more than faint marks. “How often can you give me your blood? I mean, would something happen if you continued to do it?”
“I hope that I don’t have to continue doing so, but nothing would happen if I did.” His lips pursed. “Or at least, I don’t think so.”