by Nashoda Rose
“NOOOO, RAYNE.” I WAS too far away to get to her, but Waleron saw what was happening and Traced in front of Rayne and Liam.
It was like fighting in quicksand as I tried to get to her and every single body, table, and enemy was purposely in my way trying to block me.
A cold chill went through me as I leapt over the overturned couch and Liam grinned at Waleron before sinking his fangs into Rayne’s neck. “No!”
I threw a table out of my way then snapped a Worm’s neck and decapitated him.
Another came at me, but my eyes were on Waleron and Rayne. He knocked me off my feet and I was stunned for a second.
“Waleron, blast the fucker.” Jesus Christ, why wasn’t he stopping him?
“She’s too close. I’ll hit her,” Waleron replied.
“She’ll die if you don’t.”
Waleron never hesitated in a fight. He reacted without emotion. He was our Taldeburu because he didn’t hesitate even if there was a chance of harming one of his own.
Waleron knew the consequences for indecision. We all did.
But I knew the problem. He had never had another soul in his life that was his own blood. No kin. No wife. Not even a home that we knew about. But now he had a daughter.
I drove my fist into the Worm’s chest, yanked out his heart, and then whirled, slicing his head off with my knife. I leapt over a chair and past Jedrik and Tye fighting the last vampire.
Ten feet away.
Nine feet.
Eight feet.
“Now,” I shouted at Waleron.
He raised his hand and a bolt of energy sideswiped Rayne’s arm and hit Liam in the side. His teeth ripped from her neck as he staggered back from the blast of energy.
Rayne collapsed limply to the floor.
I crashed into Liam, the energy from Waleron’s blast still vibrating through him and sinking into me. But he was stunned for a second, and it was a second I needed.
I plunged my knife into his heart then snapped his neck. Shoving him away from me, his body landed with a heavy thud on the floor. It wasn’t enough to kill him permanently.
I looked at Waleron who was crouched beside Rayne, hands cradling her head. “Finish him?”
Waleron nodded and stood.
I fell to my knees beside Rayne and dragged her limp body onto my lap, hand covering the wound in her neck. But it wasn’t the only blood. I slid my hand down her lower back. Shit. She had a wound in her back, too. Fuck, she was losing too much blood.
“We need Anstice here ASAP,” I said to everyone.
I applied pressure to the wounds. But her heartbeat slowed. I watched for an inhale. Exhale. Fuckin’ anything.
My guts twisted.
She wasn’t fuckin’ breathing.
“Someone, get Anstice,” I shouted. “You do not get to die on me, damn it. Do you hear me?”
The smell of singed flesh wafted into the air and I knew it was Waleron destroying Liam’s body.
“Waleron.” I lifted my head as he approached. “Can you Trace her to Anstice?”
“He can’t do that.” Delara jogged up beside me and knelt on the floor on the opposite side of Rayne. “He can only Trace with me.”
“I need a goddamn Healer. Now.”
“I can Trace Anstice here,” Edan said.
He put his hand on Delara’s shoulder and squeezed. I realized why the Wraith was here—he came to protect Delara. He swirled in a cloud of red dust and disappeared.
Delara slipped her hand in Rayne’s as tears rolled down her cheeks. Waleron hovered close. The CWOs were dead and had disintegrated to return into their insect form. Jedrik, Keir, and Tye chopped heads off dead vampires.
Within ten seconds, Edan was back with Anstice, who looked unsteady from the Tracing as she stood frozen for a second. Then her eyes landed on Rayne.
There was no hesitation as she skidded to the floor on the opposite side of me. She glanced at Delara. “Your emotions are too distressing and will leak into her. She’s a Reflector, Delara. You can’t be near her right now.”
Anstice looked at me, and I raised my brows, daring her to tell me the same thing. I had my emotions locked down and there wasn’t a chance I was letting Rayne go.
Delara stumbled to her feet and backed away, her hand to her mouth. Then she turned and walked away. Edan’s eyes landed on Waleron. Neither moved nor said a word for a second. Then Edan swirled into red dust and vanished.
Anstice lowered her hands to her chest first, and within seconds, Rayne’s chest rose and fell.
“Kilter,” Anstice said. “I have to heal her throat and wound, and—”
“I’m not letting her go,” I said with a fierce scowl. Not a chance in hell.
She nodded. “Fine. Turn her on her side.”
I gently lowered Rayne off my lap to the floor and steadied her with my hands on her hips while Anstice put her hands on the stab wound on her lower back.
I clenched my jaw as the pain from the stab wound hit me and Anstice gasped. Fuckin’ Healers had one shit job feeling everyone’s pain as they healed them.
It took several minutes before Anstice moved up her body to her throat and the process repeated. Once both wounds were healed, she ran her hands lightly over Rayne’s body and heat slowly warmed her skin and color rose in her cheeks.
Anstice sat back on her heels. “She’ll be weak from the blood loss, but she’ll be okay.”
I closed my eyes briefly as relief sifted through me. I didn’t want to feel that shit again. Running. Not being able to get to her. Seeing a vampire’s teeth sink into her.
Rayne didn’t need this shit in her life.
I hadn’t noticed Keir, but he now stood behind Anstice and helped her to her feet. “You good?” he asked.
She frowned. “I should be asking you that. You’re covered in blood.”
“Not my blood, babe.”
She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. “Good to hear, honey.” Then she turned to me. “Are you okay?”
I nodded and I did what I couldn’t do the last time. “Thank you.”
She smiled. “You’re welcome.” Then she walked away with Keir toward the commotion with Damien and his Ink in the other room.
I lifted Rayne into my arms, stood, and locked my gaze on Waleron. “Don’t give a shit what you say or think about it.” He stiffened. “Your daughter is mine.”
I watched Damien pace back and forth, his eyes every so often locking on me and Simian. Balen’s Ink matched his steps as if a shadow, except this shadow could kill with one leap. Simian protected me from the Scars and I knew why. I was their enemy. Liam might be dead and I was free from his commands, but that didn’t change the fact I was a vampire with the dangerous ability to change water into blood.
I hated it.
My mother hated it. Constantly on the run from vampires. Hiding. Until she couldn’t hide anymore.
I couldn’t exist as a vampire. And I didn’t want to. Calmness had settled over me now that Liam was dead, almost as if I was normal. But I’d never be normal again. The bloodthirst remained. It always would.
Damien.
I looked over at him—hands clenched, jaw tight, scowl fierce as he paced twenty feet away.
It was him.
All this time.
He was who had kept me alive and sane for so long. Every day I’d fought against Turning because I craved him. Needed his touch. The way he rested his hand on my head. How his heart beat beneath my cheek on his chest. The way he looked at me, afraid to touch me in case he couldn’t stop.
Tears filled the corners of my eyes, spilled over the lids, and trickled down my cheeks. My head lowered and I felt the soothing caress of Damien’s Ink on my lower back. He knew. He knew how I felt.
Anguish smothered me like a blanket. Images of him giving me his blood. The sacrifice he made when he knew it was against the Scars’ law. His sacrifice for months on end.
Our baby.
Our loss.
Peaches. God, w
hat started it all.
“Abby.” Waleron strode past Balen’s Ink, who snarled, but one glance from Waleron and it quickly lay down with a whine. He stopped within two feet of me and Simian.
I wiped the tears with the back of my arm and raised my chin. It was time. I had no intention of being kept in a cage like a wild zoo animal.
I reached up and placed my hand on Simian’s cheek. “I have to go with Waleron.”
Simian allowed me to turn around to face him, but he had yet to completely let me go. I leaned closer, standing on my tiptoes as I whispered to him, “Look after him, Simian. Listen to him. You must go to him now. He wants you to go to him.”
I kept my back to Damien as Simian released me and disappeared into the string of light that linked him to Damien.
Waleron came up next to me and the smell of his blood was a strong reminder of why I’d walked to my death.
I swallowed several times before I was able to form the words. “I’m ready.” I’d never be ready, not really. I loved life. Before all this, I’d done everything I could to enjoy it. But then that’s what led me here.
“Ready for what?” Damien asked as he approached. Balen’s Ink followed, snarling. He stood in front of me and Waleron, blocking Damien’s path to me.
I kept my head lowered and my eyes hidden. He’d know. He’d see it in my face.
“Ready for what?” Damien demanded.
“Damien,” Keir said, approaching. “She has chosen this.”
“Chosen what?” he retorted.
No one said anything. Then his eyes widened when he realized. An anguished roar ripped through the air, as if it would tear apart every soul within its reach. He dove for me, but Waleron yanked me out of his reach and Keir and Balen’s Ink took him to the floor. Jedrik, Delara, and Tye ran over to help.
“No. Fuck no,” Damien shouted. “Abbs, don’t do it.”
They held him down as he fought like a madman. The sound of scuffling feet and grunts mixed with his furious shouts as he tried desperately to get free.
Waleron headed for the door. I followed.
“Abby.” This time his shout was a long, drawn-out cry. “Jesus, don’t you dare fuckin’ leave me.”
I choked on a sob, my fist to my mouth. I kept walking.
“Damn it, Waleron. Don’t take her from me. She’s all I have.”
Waleron’s steps remained steady.
“No.” There was a loud grunt and Balen muttered a string of curses. “Abbs, damn it, I love you. I goddamn love you,” Damien shouted.
My knees buckled.
Waleron was at my side before I collapsed and put his arm around my waist.
Damien, don’t do this. Please.
“You kill her, I won’t stop until you’re dead, Waleron,” Damien threatened.
I glanced at Waleron, my heart pounding, afraid for Damien. Afraid Waleron would be forced to kill him, too.
He squeezed my waist. “He speaks rashly. The Scars will look out for him.”
I nodded, staring at my feet as we walked.
I did this for both of us. I was a vampire. He was a Scar. It was impossible.
We were impossible.
Tears streamed down my face, and this time, I didn’t bother to wipe them away. I peered up at Waleron. “Tell him the truth. Tell him I drank Liam’s blood on purpose.”
Waleron scowled. “He will hate you.”
Yeah, he would. “Yeah. It’s better if he does.”
He hesitated, glanced over his shoulder at the fight still happening between Damien and the Scars, and then he nodded. “Perhaps.”
I stopped at the front door and looked back one more time. Damien was hidden behind the Scars surrounding him. “Goodbye, Damien,” I said in a choked whisper.
I love you more than anything. More than my life. This is the only way.
Breathe.
Don’t look back.
I raised my head and walked out into the darkness, my executioner right behind.
Two days later
I’D HESITATED TWICE IN the past two days, once at sending a bolt of energy at Liam with Rayne at risk and now. I knew Delara was in the apartment. I heard her breathe. Smelled her scent. The sweet alluring scent of her skin that I’d memorized since the first day I’d met her.
I walked upstairs to the apartment.
She knew I was here. Just as I could sense her, so could she sense me. We were connected whether either of us wanted to be or not.
“I’m leaving, okay,” she said before I reached the last three stairs that led into the living room. “Jedrik came by with a bottle of vodka last night. I’m a little slow on the mark.” She walked into the bathroom as I stopped in the doorway. I watched as she threw toiletries into a bag.
Leaning up against the doorframe, I crossed my arms. I’d overreacted asking Delara to leave Toronto and go live with another Talde. I’d been furious that she’d lied to me about Liam and hearing his satisfaction on the phone when he told me he’d been fucking her for months.
And that was before I’d known she’d been pregnant with my child.
Delara managed to disappear time and again and I’d never been able to locate her. One of those times, she’d been carrying my child. Our child. A child who had been put through hell.
But I’d reacted impulsively. I had every right to be pissed, but to tell one of my Scars to leave the Talde… a Scar who wasn’t just any Scar. She was Delara. The woman I couldn’t go a minute without thinking of.
“Are you waiting to escort me to the plane? Or does it give you satisfaction watching me pack?” Delara asked.
“I don’t want you to leave the Talde, Delara.” I kept my tone steady and calm. It helped I took three pills when I arrived at the gallery. “But I can’t forgive you.”
Delara grabbed a wrinkled piece of yellowed paper from her nightstand, shoved it in her jeans pocket, and walked across the room to her knapsack. “Well, I’m leaving anyway.”
“Running again.” It was a statement. Delara ran from everything, and I was to blame for most of it. Yet giving her what she wanted was too risky. I’d never put her life in jeopardy again by being with her, even if it was destroying us.
“I deserved that. But, actually, no. This time I’m not. I am running toward someone.”
I didn’t say anything, afraid to ask who she was referring to. Despite my refusal to give her the relationship she wanted, it ripped me to shreds to see her with other men. Yet, that was selfish when I was with other women. Now we both used others to get what we wanted.
And now we shared a daughter.
“Rayne needs you here.”
She threw her bag over her shoulder. “Of course, you’d think so poorly of me.” She walked across the room then stopped inches from me. “I’m going somewhere for a couple weeks and then meeting our daughter and Kilter. They’re taking some time away from the Scars.”
They hadn’t told me yet, but it was a good idea. Rayne needed time to heal, although her being with Kilter was going to take a hell of a lot of convincing.
She continued, “And afterward I think it’s better if I go to Xamien’s Talde. At least for a while.”
I latched onto her forearm before she had the chance to brush by me and escape out the door. “I don’t want you in another Talde. But I have every right to be furious with you, Delara.”
“Yeah. You do. But you need to know that if I had to do it over again, I still wouldn’t have told you.” She shook her head. “Again and again, I would’ve made the same choice.”
Fuck. I stiffened. “Why?”
She tried to pull her arm out of my grasp. “It doesn’t matter now.”
“Damn it why, Maitagarri?”
Her chin dropped. “You’re right, you know. We’re better apart.”
Fuck, no, we weren’t, but I’d never let anyone harm her and I was a threat. Still, I didn’t want her to go. “Don’t leave yet.”
She pried her arm from my grip, pitched forward as if t
o take a step, then stopped. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment before meeting my intense stare. Something in her softened.
“You’re good at what you do. Leading the Scars. Fighting to protect the laws. It’s what you live for. That’s who you are, Tac. Maybe I thought one day you might… no, not maybe, I did think one day you’d be able to share that life with me.”
Cold crept into me like a slow, deep freeze. Inch by inch. Every word out of her mouth was a death sentence, and it was because this wasn’t an argument or a heated passionate fight. This was Delara being calm and rational.
“I never thought I’d have the chance to see my child. Never. God, she is so special, Tac.” She lowered her voice. “I wanted more than anything for you to have that special. Have a piece of us. Hold our child. Know her. Watch her grow into a beautiful strong woman. That’s all I wanted from the moment I knew I was pregnant.”
I stiffened. “You should’ve told me.”
She didn’t say anything.
Then she stood on her tiptoes, tilted her head, and lightly kissed me on the mouth. “You did good, Waleron.” She never called me Waleron—Never. “With Abby. Jedrik told me what you did. She’ll learn to adjust, even if she doesn’t realize that now. Maybe some of that ice around your heart is melting.”
“Abby hates me,” I said. “As does Damien. I don’t know what he will do if he ever finds out she’s alive.”
Delara half-smiled. “I do. He’ll go after her.” She ran a finger across my jaw. A touch so familiar, yet so lost to the memories I had to bury. “We have a remarkable daughter who came from our love, Waleron. That is more special than you’ll ever know.”
My breath stilled as a single tear trailed down her cheek. Everything inside me wanted to grab her and not let go, but instead, I stared, unable to move as Delara picked up her bag and brushed by me.
I listened to her footsteps on the stairs, and then the gallery door opened and closed.
“Maitagarri,” I whispered.
She was gone.
“Fuuuuuck!” A deep, crazed roar escaped.
My Ink burned around my throat. Its movement just as crazed as my shout as it violently tried to escape me. I picked up a chair and threw it across the room. It crashed into the wall, breaking apart.
