Marked by Masks and Secrets (Everlasting Possession #1)

by Maggie Sunseri

“What are we laughing about, little human?” I stiffened, then spun toward the voice. The vampire was in front of me in a flash. Only two feet of space stood between us. Vampires often confused me for a human, given I had a human father. Your blood smells unique. Delicious. Perfect, a ghost from the past whispered, turning my insides rancid.

Shadows crawled from him, tendrils of smoke and clouds of darkness. All that I ran from, all that I feared. Those familiar whispers tickled my eardrums. I flattened myself against the structure at my back. My chest rose and fell rapidly.

“Take off your mask!” I yelled. “Take it off!” I took another step forward. “I know who you are, K⁠—” His hand covered my mouth before I could finish his name. “Uh-uh,” he scolded. “You can throw your scary tantrum, my innocent, adorable little angel. But let’s be careful with our words, hmm? Some things cannot be taken back.”

“Evie, my sweet, pure, harmless little flower petal…”

Kylo. The first man who’d made me feel like maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t so alone. That I deserved someone who saw me, understood me, and adored all the parts of me that others had shunned.

“And you will go out on dates with me, anytime and anywhere, so long as it doesn’t interfere with your witchy business schemes. I also have full rein to pick out your adorable outfits.” I stared at him. “You—I—what?” I offered him anything at all. He told me he was going to take advantage of that. And this was what he wanted?

“I am not your enemy, angel. I am the monster that will tear your enemies limb from limb.”

And even if the man behind me was an unhinged, deviant vampire stalker, Kylo made caring for me seem like the easiest thing in the world.

As a witch, you should understand that the balance of the universe must be maintained.”

With her love, her softness, her resilience, her fire. I loved everything about that girl. Even the parts she hated most. The parts I’d never seen before but had tasted in her blood—tales of violence and a deep, buried wrath.

My angel needed me. And I needed her more.

Not when, through the veil of my darkness, I watched Evie finally explode. Shadows shot from her open palms, her mouth, her throat, her chest. The afternoon sky turned so dark that it could be mistaken for night. I couldn’t tell who was screaming anymore—Evie, her victims, or the shadows.

All this time, my angel had been a shadow wielder.