Her hand trembled as she traced the screen.
The handsome man from the previous photo was nowhere to be seen. In his place was an ashy corpse. Emery Sylvain, or what was left of him, was on his back on a translucent sheet of ice.
A bloody wooden stake protruded from his chest. Black marks spiderwebbed across his gray, sunken skin. His flesh stuck to his skeleton like a dried piece of fruit. His black eyes were wide, and his face was contorted in a never-ending scream. His right arm was outstretched towards the heavens and frozen in death, his Binding Mark stark against his gray flesh.
This was the kind of death there was no coming back from, even for vampires.
Acidic bile rose in Brynleigh’s throat, and she gagged.
Oh, gods.
Throwing her hand over her mouth, she dropped the phone and stumbled to her feet.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled through her hand. “I… I can’t.”
Staggering to the bathroom, she fell to her knees in front of the toilet. The porcelain was cold between her hands as she retched. All the blood she’d consumed earlier came up, but she didn’t stop. She kept going until there was nothing left within her.
Every time she closed her eyes, that image flashed through her mind. Her stomach cramped, and her heart ached as she imagined Emery’s pain as he died.
There was no doubt in her mind this was real. There was no faking that kind of image.
Eventually, when her stomach was empty and she had nothing left,she stood. Rinsing her mouth out with water, she washed her trembling hands.
A shadow stood in the open doorway, watching her.
“Emery Sylvain was staked,” Ryker said calmly, as though they were discussing the weather and not a man’s final death.
She stared down at the sink. Although she thought she knew the answer to her next question, she needed confirmation.
“A Representative killed him, didn’t they?”
Long, horrible seconds passed before a grunt of acknowledgment came from Ryker.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Brynleigh’s head spun with this new information. No wonder Jelisette was filled with so much hatred. No wonder she was out for Representative blood.
It was all starting to make some sick, twisted sense.
Clutching the counter because she wasn’t certain she’d be able to remain upright on her own, she slowly turned around.
“They truly were Bound?” Horror laced her every word. “That man and Jelisette?”
His lips were set in a grim line. “Yes.”
And now, Emery was dead.
She’d never seen a staked vampire and hadn’t known it was so… so… horrifying. She would have nightmares about that man’s death for years to come.
If she lived that long.
Every single experience Brynleigh had had with her Maker flashed before her eyes. Suddenly, Jelisette’s temper, coldness, and inability to care about anything all made sense.
“When did this happen?” Brynleigh whispered.
“Right before the One Hundredth and Eighty-Third Choosing.”
She quickly did the math in her head. Their Choosing had been the Two Hundredth. So a hundred and seventy years ago, Jelisette’s Bound Partner had died.