Chapter 194 The Killer

Chapter 194 The Killer


She caught sight of Argy, still with Wiwi, and smiled at him. Jeremy's words resonated with unsettling accuracy. She nodded.

"Fine. And don't be too hard on my brother. After all, he saved my life."

Lost since the beginning of their exchange, Blanche finally looked directly into his eyes.

She had almost expected to find the same coldness she had sensed in his aura.

She was wrong.

His aura was dark, dense, almost oppressive. There was something dangerous surrounding him at all times, like a silent threat he didn't even need to voice. There was a restrained violence about him, the kind found in beings who had never needed to hesitate before striking.

And yet, his eyes told an entirely different story.

They were gentle.

Not weak.

Not naive.

Gentle nonetheless.

A surprising softness, almost incongruous in a man capable of killing without remorse.

Blanche knew it: he could take a life as easily as his brother. Without trembling. Without looking away. Without allowing guilt to take root.

That thought should have made her uncomfortable.

It should have made her want to step back.

But she didn't see a monster.

She saw someone who had learned to live with his darkest side without allowing it to devour everything else.

Because there was something deeply human about him.

In the way his gaze lingered on the people he loved.

In that slightest hesitation whenever he had to hurt someone who didn't deserve it.

In the softness he seemed almost incapable of keeping from rising to the surface.

As though, beneath all that violence, he had stubbornly preserved a part of himself that time, battles, and blood had never managed to kill.

Blanche remained silent.

She still didn't know exactly who he was.

But for the first time since the beginning of their exchange, she felt as though she was glimpsing the man behind the danger.

"Even if, to do so, he had to run over the person we owe absolutely everything to."

The light suddenly came on.

It was Erik!

The merciless man who taught her self-defense, protected her husband and her son, and... had killed her.

How had she not put the pieces together?

His car.

His demonic connections.

His sordid profession.

And, of course... Kiyan knew.

The call at the pool.

The vanished video.

The unexpected visit the day before.

Everything fit perfectly.

He had killed her to turn her into a player. To save his brother by traveling back through time, even if it meant condemning himself to a terrible ordeal.

Blanche stared at her killer from across the ballroom.

He knew he would eventually end up imprisoned by that despicable vampire, on the other side...

And he had done it anyway?

He could have avoided the Otherworld.

The Eastern Prison.

Did Jeremy even understand the extent of his brother's sacrifice?

For the first time, Blanche smiled, completely at peace with herself, a tear slipping down her cheek.

Because in the end, Erik had hesitated.

He had braked.

It had been his car.

She could have put snow tires on it...

But she hadn't.

Things had to happen this way.

She stopped dead.

Without warning, she abandoned Jeremy in the middle of the dance floor and crossed the room at a brisk pace, then almost at a run, heading straight toward Erik.

Heads immediately turned toward her.

Several conversations fell silent.

Even the orchestra suddenly seemed less important than whatever was happening in the middle of the dance floor.

Erik saw her coming.

He barely had time to understand what she was doing before she threw herself into his arms.

Or rather, she wrapped her arms around his neck with disarming spontaneity.

The result was spectacular.

Erik froze.

The man who normally seemed capable of reacting to anything, who always had a quick reply, a movement, or an appropriate expression for every situation, had quite literally lost the use of his arms.

They hung at his sides.

Rigid.

Useless.

His eyes had widened in utter surprise.

Blanche, meanwhile, clearly had no intention of letting him go.

He had seen her coming.

He could have stepped back.

Intercepted her.

Gently pushed her away.

Or, at the very least, raised his arms.

He had done none of those things.

He had let her come to him.

And now that she was against him, he suddenly seemed completely incapable of deciding what to do with his hands.

Place them on her shoulders?

Too familiar.

On her back?

Too intimate.

Around her waist?

Absolutely out of the question.

So he simply stood there, utterly bewildered, while Blanche smiled against him.

Eventually, she pulled back slightly.

Her hands slid from his neck as she gently pushed him away so she could look at his face.

Erik looked down at her.

He still appeared completely stunned.

Blanche burst out laughing.

"What?"

He opened his mouth.

Closed it.

Then looked around him, as though desperately hoping someone would provide an explanation for the situation.

No one seemed willing to help.

Quite the opposite.

The bewildered gazes of the entire assembly were now fixed on them.

Blanche, however, no longer seemed to care about anyone else.

She simply looked at him with that smile that completely disarmed him.

And Erik probably realized at that exact moment that he had made a mistake.

He should have hugged her.

Because now, he had absolutely no idea what he was supposed to do.

"I feel like slapping you... and kissing you at the same time."

His expression was priceless.

Blanche burst out laughing, her tears becoming tears of joy.

"Thank you... but no, thank you. Neither one, please," he replied, stepping away slightly, embarrassed.