HIS BLOODY OATH

ed with life, but Elena felt

round her felt distant like the world was moving on wh

to Harold Blackwoods that morning, even as he'd kissed her forehe

w that perfec

what she plann

was left of it. The once-grand mansion sat abandoned, it

orts, pictures of scorched walls, of blood, of a sha

allowe

e truth, this wa

her coat as she stepped into the overgrown grounds. The house loomed

d dust hit her first. Then

roken chandelier lay on the floor like a skeleton. Portraits

to the study. The door cr

e was looking for. Clos

d split, but inside, something was intact: a collection of l

ned the

of Isabel

's m

the pages. The writing was elegant but r

s. I told Marcus but

seen the way he watches Marcus's eve

Ares remembers who he is. That he

chest ti

lintons. He had befriended them, earn

froze as they touched the last page. A

Faded. But c

n sitting on h

standing beside

old Bla

il

the weight of it cras

er whole life had been bu

useous, ang

ind her mad

tst

und but no o

eart thudding, clutching the p

creak

asn't

collided with a wall o

her before sh

le

up and exha

one who always watched, always hove

ing here?" she a

k you the s

ed to the jour

o the Clintons,

omeone actually re

He stepped closer. "Y

d I'll lear

es will do if he finds

e it's time someone stopped pretending

Then, to her surpris

more fire th

rnal again. "Come on.

y n

d this place down never left.

he estate and into a black SUV waiting down the

dden garage tucked behind a row of warehous

of the

aphs. Like something o

nter was

Black

Ares's?"

an n

d tight. "He's really going to

Julian said simpl

d around the photo st

when vengeance tou

st time, she saw the flicker of somet

ocent in this

id the journal under the floorboard beneat

a choice

and lose everythin

d let Ares's war

ng at the ceiling w

e. Unkno

e. You found the journ

ght. Clinton To

ood ra

back: "Who

rep

e more

tacting you. Don't tell