by L. J. Smith
As the guests streamed in, two hulking men stepped outside, standing like bookends beside Samuel. I watched them warily. Were they vampires? Or were they human guards, unaware of their employer’s true identity? One of them caught me staring and took a warning step toward me. I clenched my jaw and flexed my fingers, preparing myself for what was sure to be an impossible fight.
Once the last guest was inside, Beckford closed the door with a thud. Samuel glanced back and forth between us. I shifted from foot to foot, trying as hard as I could to seem calm. After all, I’d gotten into battles with vampires before. I’d even thrown Samuel’s brother off a train. It wasn’t as if he could stake us on his front doorstep. Could he?
“You two.” Samuel shook his head and let out a long, low laugh. “Stefan, I would have thought you’d be in ashes by now. Or drowning in self-pity.”
“If you’re going to kill me, you’ll have to try harder,” I said, anger boiling inside me. “And I don’t know what you and your brother have against us, but I want answers. We both do.”
“Or else what?” Samuel asked calmly. “You’re on my territory, so my house rules apply. And I don’t appreciate trespassers, especially when I’m otherwise engaged. What did you think you would do here? Stake me? Have a bloody vampire battle while the band plays a waltz?” And that’s when I saw it. Under his white dress shirt was a pendant, gleaming in the moonlight. I glanced reflexively at my own ring. It also sparkled, as if sensing its nearby match.
Samuel must have noticed my gaze because he jerked his tuxedo jacket into place and crossed his arms. But he was too late. The sparkling blue stone told me everything I needed to know: His hatred of us had something to do with Katherine.
“Neither of you is as smart as I am,” Samuel continued. “And judging from this arrogant display, neither of you has any idea who you’re dealing with.” Samuel glared at us as though he were a headmaster and we were his wayward pupils.
“And you’re more naïve than we thought. Because this is just the beginning,” Damon said in a low voice.
“Oh, I know it is,” Samuel said, smiling like a cat with a mouse under its paw. “Because now I have a lovely deputy. Violet is a grand girl. Thank you for introducing us.”
Out of nowhere, Damon threw a punch. It landed on the side of Samuel’s nose.
Samuel blinked, but the blow had done nothing.
Samuel shrugged. “Just more fodder for the eventual flames of your undoing. As you can see, I’m unbreakable.”
Damon laughed, one short bark. “You’re a coward. I was coming to ask you to settle this once and for all, man to man. But you’re no man,” Damon spat. “Your days are numbered.” With that, Damon spun around and walked away, his footsteps hard on the path.
“Remember to vote!” Samuel called at Damon’s retreating back.
I had to do something. Maybe, with Damon out of earshot, it would be easier to reason with Samuel. Once I had Violet, I doubted I could persuade Damon from acting on his revenge fantasies, but at least I’d no longer have to be part of them.
“Samuel, let Violet free. She’s—” I began.
“A very hungry vampire,” Samuel interrupted. “And a lovely girl to have on my arm. Now, Stefan, I’m going to let you in on a secret. I hate you. But I abhor your brother. Play nice, and I may let you off easily. A stake to the heart next time. Simple. No torture. Or maybe—” Samuel leaned toward me. The sweet scent of blood hung in the air around him; he must have fed recently. “Maybe I’d let you go completely. Just leave London. Forget about your brother. And forget about Violet. But I wouldn’t count on it. After all, as I say to my constituents, I’m the type of person who gets things done.” He laughed maniacally before pushing me so forcefully I tumbled down the steps and cracked my head against the path.
The door slammed shut. In the distance, I could hear another group of guests working their way toward the mansion. Had Samuel somehow used compulsion—or something else—to make sure we’d been entirely alone during the course of our conversation? And if so, what couldn’t he do?
I stood and brushed myself off, rubbing the back of my scalp.
A short man in a top hat and tailcoat grabbed my arm. I whirled around, fangs bared. “What?” I growled, realizing just how much Samuel got under my skin as I saw the startled expression of the stranger. I needed to stay in control.
The man shrank back. “I’m sorry. I wanted to … is the Mortimer house?”
I nodded, giving a slight apologetic smile.
“Thank you,” the man said, fear flashing in his eyes as he rushed away.
Damon was waiting just inside the fence, pacing against the iron trellises. “I hate him. I want to pull him apart, limb from limb, in front of all his fancy guests. Just wait until they realize their precious councilor-to-be is a bloody murderer. It would serve all of them right to be killed.”
“Damon, listen to me,” I said urgently, leading him away from the property. “I noticed something tonight. His necklace. Did you see it?”
“No, I wasn’t paying attention to his jewelry,” Damon said as we hurried into the street. Mist swirling beneath the gaslights cast a ghostly shadow on his face. I pulled him away from the light. It wasn’t safe for him to be seen.
“He had a necklace like our rings,” I said pointedly. Finally, realization flickered in Damon’s eyes.
“Katherine,” he said finally.
The name hung between us, as palpable as the cobblestones under our feet. A shiver crept up my spine.
“He must have known her. He must have,” I said. I twisted my ring around my finger. The inside was tarnished, and there was a slight crack in the stone from one of the many bloody battles Damon and I had fought. But it was my lifeline to normalcy—and Damon’s, too. Without our rings, we would be bound to the darkness, unable to walk in the sun without bursting into flames. Damon’s ring was darker and even more tarnished, the silver nearly black. But the stone was just as blue as mine. As blue as the stone in Samuel’s necklace.
Damon nodded, a faraway expression on his face. I knew in his mind, he was back in the carriage house in Mystic Falls, Virginia. He was curling a lock of Katherine’s hair around his finger, planting a kiss on her porcelain cheek, or arching his neck in just the right way to allow her to…
I stopped imagining.
“Do you think … did Katherine ever mention Samuel?” I asked tentatively. A coach drove by, its well-dressed passengers most likely on their way to Samuel’s house.
Damon shook his head. “Katherine never mentioned any other man to me,” he said sharply. The end of the sentence went unspoken: Even you.
“She never said anything to me, either. Have you seen a stone like that anywhere else besides on our rings or Katherine’s necklace?”
“What does it matter?” Damon asked angrily, his voice piercing the night air. He threw up his hands. “All it proves is that the three of us shared the same dead vampire.” He kicked at the ground, sending a shower of pebbles further into the street. He lowered his voice. “I’m more of a man and more of a beast than Samuel ever was, or ever will be. And I want him to know that.” He turned on his heel and walked back toward the house.
“What are you doing?” I called.
Damon whirled around. “To hell with planning and plotting. I’m going to do exactly what I should have done in the first place. You were right, brother. Vampires can’t be trusted.”
“No!” I lunged at him. His expression was one I’d seen countless times. It was the same look he’d worn when he killed Callie and when he announced his intention to kill the Sutherland clan. He was out for blood, and I knew that if he attacked Samuel now, he’d be the one to end up dead.
But before either of us could make another move, we were interrupted by the crash of a door slamming shut. A girl wearing a jewel-encrusted blue dress stumbled out, blinking confusedly. I sniffed the air. I could sense her blood was wine-heavy, hear her heart beating erratically.
She wa
lked unsteadily toward the line of coaches arranged like children’s models around the vicinity of the property.
Damon let out a low whistle in the darkness. I grabbed his arm and dug my fingers into his flesh. What was he doing? Now was not the time for Damon to fulfill his urges.
The girl turned around, wavering on her feet as she looked around for the source of the noise.
“Sarah!” Damon called. “Over here!”
“Do you know her?” I muttered under my breath, not sure which answer would be worse.
“Just watch,” Damon whispered through gritted teeth.
The girl stumbled toward us, her hands smoothing her skirts over the curve of her hips. “Why, I’m not Sarah…” she said, trailing off as her gaze landed on Damon’s rich clothes. “Although I could be, depending on who’s asking. It’s dreadfully boring in there,” she pouted.
Damon bowed. As he righted himself, he swept his cloak around him with a flourish, masking his features. “Deeply sorry to misidentify you. I’m Lord Fox,” he invented. “And you are?”
“Beatrice!” she hiccupped.
“Of course. Beatrice,” Damon said in an exaggerated show of politeness. “You will forgive me, but in this light, you looked like Sarah de Haviland.”
“The actress?” Color rose in the girl’s chipmunklike cheeks. “Oh, I’m not, but she is inside, if you’d like me to get her. Or maybe you’d enjoy getting to know me just as well?” she asked boldly.
Damon winked, acting as if he and Beatrice were the only people in the world. I watched, transfixed. Damon had more tricks up his sleeve than simple compulsion.
“I’d love to get to know you. But first, let’s play a little game. I want to play a prank on my friend Henry, who’s inside right now. Will you do me a favor? Flirt with him, and get him to come outside with you? But make sure you don’t mention me—I want it to be a surprise.”
Beatrice smiled, revealing an unfortunate crooked incisor. “I love surprises!” she said, clapping her hands together. “I’ll get him right away.”
“Terrific. And once I return to the party, I’d be honored if you’d dance with me,” Damon said, taking Beatrice’s hand and giving it a kiss. She blushed even more deeply and quickly turned away, eager to do Damon’s bidding.
“Oh, and Beatrice?” Damon called.
“Yes?” The girl whirled around.
“My favorite dance is the waltz,” he said with a wink. “Remember that.” Beatrice practically skipped back into the estate.
“So now what’s the plan?” I asked impatiently. I’d last encountered Henry during our battle atop the train, and I had no desire ever to see him again.
“I guess you’ll find out,” Damon said, his fingers twitching as if he were craving a fight. I watched him nervously. Part of me wanted to tell him I wanted nothing to do with this half-baked scheme, wish him luck and then walk away. But I couldn’t. At this point, there was no turning back.
Before I could second-guess my commitment to Damon, Henry and Beatrice stumbled outside. Henry was trying to pull Beatrice in for a kiss. His red hair was neatly slicked back, but his shirt was coming untucked, a sign that he’d been enjoying the party. When I’d first met him, I imagined him to be eighteen, an oversize schoolboy on the lookout for fun. Knowing his true nature made his youthful appearance all the more disconcerting.
“Come on, sweetheart, just a little taste,” Henry said to Beatrice, oblivious to our presence.
Beatrice just laughed. “Sorry, my dance card for tonight is already full,” she teased as she slipped back into the party, giving Damon a parting flirtatious smile.
Just then, Damon flew toward Henry at vampire speed. He grabbed Henry by his broad shoulders and shoved him against the wall of what seemed to be an abandoned stable. Henry writhed in Damon’s grasp, his fangs growing and flashing in the moonlight.
“I need a stake!” Damon growled. I grabbed the first branch I could find on the ground and cracked it over my knee. It was willow, not nearly as substantial as I’d hoped, but it would do. It would have to do.
I charged toward them, the stake in my hand. In my mind’s eye, I remembered the way Henry had charged toward me during our bloody fight on board the train to Ivinghoe. I remembered the proprietary way he’d allowed his hands to roam down Violet’s curves during a party at the warehouse. I remembered the way he’d eagerly clapped Damon’s back at a park picnic, as though they were nothing but loyal friends. He had betrayed us.
“This ends now,” I hissed, holding the stake inches from the snow-white shirt that covered Henry’s chest. I imagined what the fabric would look like, pierced by the willow branch and stained with Henry’s blood. I’d never really staked a vampire before. At Gallagher’s circus, I’d once been forced to run a vervain-laced stick through Damon, but I’d deliberately missed his heart. This was different.
“Don’t kill him yet,” Damon said, wrapping his fingers around the branch. “He needs to talk first.”
I held the stake out toward Damon. It may have been my battle, but it was my brother’s war, and I wouldn’t stand in his way.
“I don’t talk to trash,” Henry said petulantly. Instantly, Damon launched the branch forward and pierced Henry’s throat. Blood bubbled at his throat, but the wound quickly healed when Damon removed the stick. Henry must have fed recently.
“You disgust me,” Damon spat.
“Well, I can assure you the feeling’s mutual,” Henry gurgled, hate evident in his eyes. “And you wanted me to talk, so I’ll talk. You and your brother are both stupid and impulsive, and have no idea who you’re facing. Is that what you wanted to discuss?” He smiled as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the blood off his neck. An owl hooted in the distance. Where were Samuel’s bodyguards? Could this be a trap?
As I was about to voice my fears, Henry twisted out of Damon’s grasp.
“You think you can kill me? That’s rich,” he said as he smiled at us. “You boys will try anything, won’t you? It’s the American way, I suppose.” He circled around us like a dog, sniffing a stranger that crossed his path. I watched every step, my entire being ready to attack, should it be necessary. “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again. Although I think, in your case, ‘If at first you don’t succeed, try and die again’ might be a bit more accurate.” Henry chuckled at his own joke.
“What does Samuel have to do with Katherine?” Damon asked, his voice low. I could see him struggling to control his temper. I wanted nothing more than to pick up where he left off and fight Henry to the death.
But Henry continued, unconcerned. “It is unfair to be hunted without knowing why, isn’t it? After all, it’s so much more enjoyable if your victims can take some time to ruminate on their choices. So, why do my brother and I hate you?” He paused and pretended to think. “Well, for one, you two are awfully pushy. In this country, we value people who respect our social rules. And that does not include elbowing one’s way in with compulsion and lies. So there’s that.”
“What about Katherine?” I interrupted.
“Katherine,” Henry said, chuckling to himself. “Well, Katherine’s a category unto herself. One of a kind. The type of girl you see once and remember forever. Which is why my brother can’t forgive either of you for killing her.”
“I didn’t…” Damon sputtered.
“That’s not what we heard,” Henry said in a low voice. “I knew the move to America wouldn’t be good for Katherine. Samuel knew. But she was insistent, and when that girl got an idea…” He shook his head and snickered ruefully. “It was supposed to be temporary. She called it her ‘Grand Tour,’ a chance to see the world and live a bit before she settled down,” Henry said, glancing toward the main house. “My brother was devastated when she didn’t return. He loved her. And I love him, so I’m going to do whatever it takes to help him take his revenge. Is that clear?”
“She would never have returned to Samuel,” Damon said, disgust evident in his voice.
“Oh, but she would have,” Henry said, a sly smile on his face. Was it true? Had Katherine simply been biding her time in Virginia? Every statement Henry made brought up more questions. “She was going to make her name in America, and he was going to lay claim to London. Then, they’d combine their fortunes. But of course, they’d also have their fun. United, the two of them were unstoppable. You couldn’t tie them down. They were ambitious, beautiful, and powerful.” Henry sighed. “And then you ruined it.”
“How about I help you both by putting you out of your misery? I’ll kill Samuel, so he can join Katherine in hell,” Damon growled, his eyes narrowing. They were pacing around each other as I looked on, forgotten for the moment. This truly was Gallagher’s circus ring all over again: two vampires pitted against each other, and only one would survive. As much as I hated to admit it, Damon’s odds didn’t look good.
“Don’t you want to hear more? I haven’t told you how Katherine used to write letters to my brother, laughing about the two country bumpkin boys she’d met in Virginia,” Henry taunted.
Damon lunged at Henry and threw him to the ground. “Katherine loved me,” he screamed into Henry’s face. But Henry only chuckled. Then, with incredible force, he pushed Damon off him and against a tree. In a flash, Henry had Damon’s wrists pinned to the trunk. He reared his head back and spat in Damon’s face.
“Katherine would have killed you eventually, you know. That was always her plan. And now, it seems I have to finish her job.”
Gathering my strength, I surged forward and pushed Henry away from Damon, intending to get him to the ground. But he was stronger than me, and shrugged out of my grasp as easily as slipping out of a cloak. The two of us stood facing each other, panting with exertion. His arm hung limp by his side, and I felt a jolt of surprised satisfaction. At least I’d managed to injure him.
“I’m not wasting my time with you right now,” Henry hissed, cradling his elbow. He turned to head back into the party. “Try to have better manners next time. And that, of course, includes not staking your hosts,” he called over his shoulder.
