My mind whizzes around at the six lesser saints—Ariadne, Sophia, Julia, Marcella, Euphemia, and Augustine. Most of those lines are extinct. The Ariadne and Marcella lines have active slayers, but one of them is in her thirties and married to a mage, and the other is a forty-year-old woman with twin daughters too young to train. I’m the only available descendent. He probably knew this before deciding to join Agia Convent.
“You don’t want me.” I shake my head. “You want to piggyback on the family name.”
Jude doesn’t react, meaning it’s true. He never fell for me. He was fifteen when we joined the convent, and I was thirteen. That’s way too young to form an opinion about love.
“I’ve put so much effort into our relationship, and you treat my sacrifices with contempt,” he whines.
“You were behind the missing sisters?” I say.
He nods. “And I created all the surveillance footage to free you of that vampire.”
“How can you commit so many atrocities and not think you’re going to get caught?
“You’ll see things differently when my strongest cherub bites you.” Jude drifts toward me, even though the monster doesn’t move.
“Wait.” I step back.
“Don’t struggle, and it will be over in a few seconds.”
I walk toward him with my left arm outstretched. “Jude…”
His eyes soften. “Brielle, have you finally come to realize—”
A right hook in the center of his face makes his head snap back. He cries out and clutches his nose. Blood seeps from his fingers, and his eyes water. I don’t stay around to see what he will do next—I’m already halfway across the chamber and running toward the illusionary brick wall.
The monster appears at my side and punches me on the temple. Pain explodes across my skull, and I spin toward the far wall. My arm flies out to break my fall, but the monster appears in front of me and shoves me to the wet ground.
I scramble away from it like a crab, my gaze fixed on bright amber eyes set within prune-like features. Venom drips from countless rows of incisors that start at its lips and continue to its funnel-mouth.
Jude walks beside the creature, his chest swelling with pride, even though blood drips down his nose. “I translated the formula from an alchemist's old papers and made a few adjustments. It’s keyed to my blood, so I can command the creature to act as my avatar and see through its eyes.”
Despite the dire situation, despite the impending bite of that creature, relief washes through my insides. Poppy didn’t betray me. Jude saw Alaric through the eyes of Sister Shevette during that confrontation at the cliff. Of course he would recognize Alaric as the vampire who kissed me and try to get him killed.
“There’s one thing I don’t understand,” he says.
My nostrils flare. If he’s prompting me to ask, he’s even more deluded than I thought.
“Kerala bit you.” He tilts his head to the side. “She pumped you full of venom, yet you didn’t transform right away. Was that because she’s old?”
“Is that why you sent Sister Shevette after me?” I snap.
“You had her killed by the vampire.” All traces of love-sickness vanish from his face, replaced by fervent curiosity that makes the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. “How did you resist the venom?”
My back hits the wall, and I feel around for signs of magic. “Who’s that?”
“Evangeline,” he says with a smirk. “I would have infected the Arch Mother, but she’s always protected by her conciliar.”
“Where’s the real Madoc?”
“Somewhere in the mountains.” He traps me between his arms and presses his lips against my ear. “I’ve answered your questions, now you answer mine. How did you resist my cherub’s venom?”
My knee slams into his crotch, and he doubles over.
“I’m going to kill everyone you love, starting with your vampire.” He squirms on the floor, holding his junk, and the cherub standing behind him makes no move to lash out.
Staggering to my feet, I turn toward the wall, but heavy footsteps scrape against the ground from its other side, and another cherub steps through the wards, carrying two people-shaped sacks slung over its shoulder.
My eyes bulge. “What is this?”
He raises his head, his face red and straining to process the pain. “Poppy and Fred.”
Blood drains from my face, and my stomach drops. I can’t take my eyes off the unmoving sacks. “What do you want?”
“One moment.” He throws his head back and groans.
A pair of cherubs walk through the wall, each restraining Alaric by the arms. Relief crosses his features, which morphs to annoyance.
“You weren’t in the ritual room,” he says.
“I escaped.”
His gaze surveys the room and lands on the cherub holding the sacks. “With one of the monsters?”
I point at the psycho still holding his crotch. “He’s controlling them.”
“Indeed?” Alaric asks, sounding like he doesn’t know what the hell I’m talking about.
Using the wall as a crutch, Jude staggers to his feet. The cherub tears open the sacks, revealing an unconscious Poppy and Uncle Fred. He presses his lips together and breathes hard out of his nostrils. “These two will die unless you do exactly as I say.”
I bare my teeth. “If you want me to love you—”
“A vampire and a slayer is an abomination.” He reaches into his ceremonial robe and pulls out a double-zero-gauge stake. “I want you to kill him.”
“Why?” Alaric asks.
Jude ignores him and fixes his gaze on me. He twirls the stake between his fingers. “My cherub can tear off his head in an instant, but I want you to do it. Kill the vampire, and free yourself from his thrall.”
Fury and disgust ripples across my skin. I’ll be killing something today, but it won’t be Alaric. If I had listened to Poppy’s advice and reported the love enchantment, the Mage Council would have executed Jude, and Sister Shevette would still be alive.
I cross the room, take the proffered stake, and place its point at Jude’s sternum. “It’s time to put you out of your mis—”
“What is the meaning of this?” bellows Grandma’s voice.
I spin around. The illusion wall has gone, and Grandma, Aunt Clarissa, and the Magus stand in the corridor.
“Come in, Arch Mother,” says Jude from my side. “I’m about to solve your vampire problem and bring Brielle to heel.”
Grandma purses her lips. “Where did you get these creatures?”
“I’ve also solved the problem about the missing sisters of servitude,” he says. “The convent ran smoothly without them, but you can’t deny that the incidence of vampires decreased in the last few weeks.”
Her face relaxes.
“You knew about the monsters?” I ask.
“Of course not,” she replies.
I narrow my eyes. Grandma has read the reports on the creature ripping apart ten vampires in less than a minute. She probably thinks that if there’s a way to control these creatures, they might be a useful ally in the war against vampires.
“Brielle was about to cross the room and slay Alaric.” Grandma doesn’t move or speak, but pride brims in her eyes.
I couldn’t despise anyone more than I despise her right now, and that includes Jude. She has the authority to stop this. With one command, Aunt Clarissa and the Magus can send Jude to sleep or force him to restore the monsters, but she’s too excited at the prospect of killing Alaric to care about the sisters of servitude.
I glance at Alaric, who isn’t struggling, turning to mist, or trying to get away. He nods, his expression telling me I can do this.
My throat thickens, and my gaze darts around the room. Poppy and Uncle Fred are rousing from unconsciousness, the monsters stand behind them like sentinels, poised to attack on command.
Jude stares at me with manic eyes. “Kill him.”
“Then what?” I ask.
>
“Then they can go free.”
I glance from Grandma, who doesn’t even react, and back to Alaric, whose face is a stoic mask. A lump forms in the back of my throat. If I wasn’t so drained of blood and power, I would fight my way out, but right now, I’m at everyone’s mercy.
“I’ve lived a long life,” Alaric says, his voice as gentle as a caress. “Do it and buy your freedom.”
“See.” Jude laughs. “Even the vampire wants himself dead.”
The seer’s parting words to Alaric resound through my skull. I would plunge a stake into his heart before the full moon. This is what she meant, but she also told Alaric on another occasion that I would be the one to make his heart beat. She was right about cherubs, and Alaric was convinced she wouldn’t steer us toward our deaths. Maybe he has a plan.
“Alright,” I say.
He clenches his teeth. “Do it.”
Cold seeps into my feet as I pad across the floor, but it’s nothing compared to the chill that envelops my heart. If this doesn’t work, I’ll have slain an innocent who never got a chance at a human life. Tears sting the back of my eyes, and my throat is so thick with sorrow that I can barely breathe.
I place a hand on Alaric’s chest. It’s warm, but I feel no reverberation of his heart. That has to be a good sign. If the seer is right, this means that he survives at least to fulfill her other prophecy about his heart getting to beat.
“Close your eyes,” I say.
He lowers his eyelids.
I stand on my tiptoes and press a kiss onto his lips. They’re soft and yielding, and the kiss is too brief to be our last. Grandma makes a disgusted huff, and Jude snarls. I don’t care. They’re getting what they want, they can at least let me say goodbye.
“I love you,” I whisper low enough for only a vampire’s ears.
A corner of his lips curl into a tiny smile. I take that as a good sign, too.
I inhale a deep breath. In the heat of a battle, the heart of a vampire is best accessed between the intercostal spaces of the left rib cage. An eight-millimeter stake made of snakewood can slip through the gaps in the ribs, through a vampire’s resilient intercostal muscles, and force the heart to self-combust.
Jude’s stake is two inches in diameter, which means I’ll have to slip it underneath the ribcage. My fingers graze his hard chest. I can’t miss, or I’ll prolong his suffering.
Inhaling a deep breath, I let my slayer instincts take control. Instincts I now know came directly from the vampire, Empress Theodora. My hand slides down to his hard abs, and I slam the stake beneath his ribs.
Alaric’s eyes snap open, his lips part, exposing his fangs. He tries to take an inward breath, but it catches.
Nothing happens for the next frantic heartbeats. I can’t breathe. I can’t move. I can’t do anything but wait. Around me, everybody stills.
Patches of gray emerge from under his black shirt and break off flecks of ash. It spreads past his collarbone, up his neck, releasing more ash. My throat spasms. It’s like watching a cigarette burn but without the smoke or embers. I drop my gaze to his hands, where the ash spreads to his fingers, and tiny pieces of Alaric fall to the ground and gather in piles.
Grief clenches my heart. I don’t want to look at his face, don’t want to see what I’ve done, but I’ve got to meet his eyes for his last moments. The ash rises to his jaw, and his face is just as I’d left it—frozen in the rictus of shock. It takes an eternity for the ash to consume him, but when he does, his entire body collapses.
The ash doesn’t rise or swirl like vampire mist. I turn on my bloodsucker vision, but it’s still gray.
Alaric is dead.
Chapter 25
Grandma steps across the threshold of the dank room, her eyes shining with jubilation. I’ve never seen her look so proud. She’s breathing hard, looking around each corner and even down the hallway. I did the same thing thirty seconds ago, and there was no sign of Alaric.
Bile rises to the back of my throat, and my vision blurs with unshed tears. When vampires die, the stolen ether in their veins combust. Every vein, every artery, every capillary lights up with flames hot enough to consume their body and leave them a pile of dust.
Alaric didn’t burn, he turned into ash and disintegrated. I have no idea what that means.
The soles of my feet become numb, and that loss of sensation spreads up my legs and through to my torso, where it settles in my heart. He can’t be dead. A millennium-and-a-half of existence can’t just crumble at the end of my stake. The cold seeps into my lungs, and my breaths become labored. My muscles wilt, and I can’t focus.
Jude and the monsters are the only things stopping me from collapsing on the floor. I’ve got to stay focused for the sake of Poppy and Uncle Fred. My fingers curl around the stake, and I stuff my feelings to the pit of my gut.
“There are no blood-drinkers in sight.” Grandma’s voice is breathy with awe, and she’s blinking hard as though close to tears. “Gabrielle, you’ve just broken the record on the oldest vampire slain.”
“It doesn’t count if he sacrificed himself to save Uncle Fred and Poppy.” My voice feels far away.
Grandma shakes her head as though all that matters is the kill. I turn to Poppy, who sits up, rubs her head and glances around the room. Next to her, sits Uncle Fred. He looks dazed, his lips quiver, and he won’t stop blinking. I glance over my shoulder at the two monsters who restrained Alaric.
The sight of them galvanizes me into action. Clenching my teeth, I help Poppy to her feet. She wraps her hand around mine the way she did during the hurricane on the flight to Jaeger. A surge of emotions thicken my throat, and I gulp down a sob. She’s trying to lend me her power, but I’m not wearing a foci-ring, and we’re no longer bonded.
“Arch Mother.” Jude steps forward with his chest puffed out like a soldier addressing his commanding officer. “Brielle has broken her conciliar bond. I propose that the Magus links us immediately. With our vast wells of power, we will eliminate any other vampires who have invaded the convent.”
“No,” Poppy whispers.
“No.” Grandma’s answer is as heavy as quickstone.
Jude rocks back, his bottom lip quivering. “Why?” he whines. “You said—”
“When my conciliar discovered the enchantment you placed on my granddaughter, I allowed it to continue because you acted in the interests of the Order.” She sweeps her arms at the monsters and tightens her lips.
The revelation hits like a punch to the gut. Aunt Clarissa knew about the enchantment and didn’t break it? I want to scream, I want to tear across that room and shake them until their eyes fall out of their sockets, but my limbs won’t move. This new revelation is just one of many betrayals. It’s nothing compared to the soul-crushing weight of not knowing if Alaric is alive or dead.
Grandma continues her rant. “This experiment was reckless and you carried it out without authorization. Because of your actions, Gabrielle compromised herself with a vampire, and Doctor Shevette is without a slayer. He’s a powerful and experienced mage, and I have offered him Gabrielle.”
I suppress a groan. Grandma is fearless and thinks her title of Arch Mother Superior will intimidate Jude, but he’s lost his mind.
The hurt on his face morphs into a much harder expression, and he straightens his ceremonial robes. “My cherubs will tear you all apart.”
One of the monsters spins to the door where Aunt Clarissa stands with the Magus. It raises a clawed hand. Grandma lurches into action with a roundhouse kick. The monster staggers back, but another rushes at her with its arms outstretched. Its hands bounce against a barrier of magic. The third throws itself against the barrier around the entrance, knocking back the Magus into Aunt Clarissa.
Behind us, Uncle Fred scrambles to his feet and grabs Poppy.
“Wait.” I grab Jude’s arm.
“No, Brielle.” He pulls away. “You don’t get to dictate to me after everything I’ve done to win you back.”
�
�Who’s going to bond us if you kill the Magus?” I snap.
He curls his lip “I’m leaving Fred and Poppy alive for you, aren’t I?”
“Someone’s going to tell the Council.” I reach for his arm again, this time grabbing it with both hands. “Think about what this will do to your family.”
He bares his teeth. “Stop it,” he snarls. “My cherubs will protect them.”
“No.” I grab his lapels. “You don’t get to condemn your brothers out of some selfish ambition to become a legend. The council will catch up eventually and execute you all.”
His harsh laugh makes the lining of my stomach ripple. “Do you care for me?”
My hands drop to my sides. “Whether I wanted to or not, the enchantment changed the way I think. There’ll always be a part of me that remembers loving you.”
His gaze finally meets mine, and his lips part. Flashes of spellfire light up the room, and the flames dance in his hazel eyes, making him look like a man held in the grip of madness. Now that I’ve gotten his attention, it’s up to me to say anything necessary to call off the monsters.
“The truth, now,” he shouts over the sound of the battle. “I’ll rip out Poppy’s entrails if you lie.”
I place a hand on his shoulder, clenching it as hard as I clench my teeth. “Jude, the line between love and hate is as thin as your conscience.”
His Adam’s apple bobs up and down. “You love me?”
“I’ve never hated anyone as much as I hate you.”
His eyes soften, and I wonder if he heard me right. “You’ll turn that hate into love and become mine?”
I drop my gaze. If I’m honest with myself, I just want Jude out of my life so I never have to deal with him or his monsters. In the short time I spent with Alaric, I learned what a man is prepared to sacrifice for the chance of love, and anything I felt for Jude pales into insignificance. As much as I hate Grandma, I can’t let that monster bite her. It would only mean another powerful slayer under Jude’s command.
“Do you want another kick in the junk?” I snarl. “Turn off those monsters, now. I’ll give you what you want.”
Vampire Bonds (Darkbloods Book 1) Page 27
