Love Me to Death (Underveil, #1)(24)

She stared at Stefan, who studied her with his eerie, pale eyes, and then at Nikolai. He’d been no more than ten feet from her for the last two days, but she felt like they were miles away from each other. Even when he’d had his mouth and hands on her, they’d been worlds apart.

She sat again and turned back to Stefan. “Please find a way to free me from this—from him.”

“I certainly appreciate your desire, but I can see no way that I can be of help other than seeing you clothed and fed. That cord is elven-forged. Only the artisan can break it without killing you. It’s too late for me to help you.”

“The elf who made it isn’t available. And it’s not too late,” Nikolai said. “You can go back in time before I tied it on her…us.” The desperation in his voice matched her own. “Please,” he continued. “Fold time to before I bound her and take the cord away. I know you can do this.”

The tailor shuffled back into the room and gathered his supplies. He moved so strangely, and his eyes were brown, not red. If Margarita was a vampire, what was he, Elena wondered. He took the shirt from Margarita and handed it to Stefan, not even looking at Elena or Nikolai.

“Send a bill,” Stefan said, and the man bowed and backed away, then scurried straight for the door, followed by his assistant carrying her sewing box. Stefan rose and placed his hand on a black pad by the door, and it clicked and swung open.

Margarita paused just inside the door and removed her glasses. “Your father believed that vampires are not unfortunate victims of fate. He told us that we are creators of our own destiny. His words became our motto: ‘With wise choices, we are destined for greatness, with poor choices, oblivion.’” Her red eyes never wavered from Elena’s, as if trying to memorize her. “My people are close to complete oblivion. Make wise choices, Elena Arcos.”

She left, and all of them stared at the closed door for what felt like forever.

“Wow,” Elena said, finally.

Stefan leaned back against the door. “Nothing like a lighthearted farewell.”

Nikolai scooted to the edge of his seat on the sofa. “Go back in time and remove the cord from my possession,” he said, as if fate and salvation from oblivion had not just been bandied about.

Perhaps to him, Margarita’s words weren’t relevant, but to Elena they were. We are creators of our own destiny. She closed her eyes and ran the words through her head several more times. Her father’s words. Wise choices. She had a choice. She didn’t have to become a monster. If she had to become one of these creatures, she could be like her father instead.

“I cannot manipulate the past,” Stefan said, returning to his chair. “I can only be an observer. You know that, Itzov.”

“You can’t, or you won’t?”

“I won’t.” Stefan sat. “It can produce disastrous effects. World-altering effects.”

“Just eliminating the cord?”

“Yes. We never know the full impact of a seemingly insignificant event.”

“Then I’ll approach the others of your kind to help me. They’re less…conservative.”

Stefan’s eyes narrowed. “That would be unwise.”

Nikolai leaned even closer to the Time Folder. “Is that a threat?”

“A statement of fact. Think. I know it’s hard for you, Slayer, but really think. If your soul hadn’t gone down that cord to claim her, would she be alive? Would your impression of her be different? Knowing she’s your mate had to impact you somehow. The result of eliminating it would have the exact effect you are trying to avoid. She’d be dead, and we both know it.”

Every red flag in the universe shot up and blew in the wind of Elena’s mind. “Whoa.” She held her hands up. “Stop. Back it up.” What else had Nikolai had lied about? “What’s this ‘mate’ business?”

Nikolai groaned and covered his face.

Stefan grinned. “You. Him. Destined to be together forever…literally. He’s known from the start.”

She wanted to scream. Instead, she kept her voice level. “Stop screwing with me, both of you. I deserve to know exactly what’s going on.” She yanked the cord to get Nikolai’s attention. “Tell me now. Tell me everything going on without edits or omissions.”

Nikolai crossed his arms over his chest, pulling her wrist when he did. “Or what?”

She yanked back. “Or I’ll find a freaking way to kill you in your sleep.”

To her chagrin, he smiled.

“You think I’m kidding?” she shouted.

His smile widened. “I hope not. It would be exciting to see you try it.”

Stefan laughed. “Logic is wasted on him. Threats? Now, you’re speaking his language.”

Elena was so angry she didn’t even know how to react. Nikolai was maddening. It was like her needs and feelings didn’t even matter at all. He had threatened her, insulted her, made her feel inferior, and now she was his mate for freaking ever? She wanted to cry, but there was no way she’d let this brute get to her. Never again. She gripped her knees and met his golden eyes. “Mate? Never. Screw you.”

His smile grew wider. “Now you’re really speaking my language.”

“Figuratively. Never ever literally.”