The moment he left, gold sparks burst inside the room, and when they dissipated, I saw Ruadan. He cocked an eyebrow at me. “There you are, love. C’mon, then. You’ve work to do yet.”
I walked into his arms, holding my dog, the chalice, and the injector.
Then we went all sparkly—and did our own disappearing act.
We arrived in a huge room with a vaulted ceiling, stained glass windows, and large stone dais at the front. Pain radiated through me, and I was having a tough time drawing breath.
“The change is upon her,” snapped Morrigu, who stood. “Hurry!”
I briefly wondered how Morrigu could be in Aufanie’s chapel without the Goddess’s invitation, but I was tired of trying to figure out the policies of supernatural jerkfaces. Screw ’em.
I put Jeff down, and he trotted off—probably to go pee in a corner. Ruadan helped me to his grandmother, who stood a few feet down the aisle in front of the dais. Her gaze was on the chalice in my hand. She couldn’t have it unless I gave it to her, not until the bargain was met.
On the left of the platform stood Alaya, who was dressed in even more formal robes. Her black lace veil was so dark, it was a wonder she could see through it. Damian’s brothers stood on the other side. They were looking at me, but I could see Darrius stealing looks at Alaya and frowning.
Someone else was there, too.
Damian.
Even though it felt like I was being turned inside out, I climbed up the steps and grabbed the edge of the smooth, worn rock. He lay on the flat stone, looking too much like a sacrifice. He’d been stripped and cleaned, and wore a black and gold robe.
“Damian,” I whispered.
“You must mourn later, child,” said Morrigu, “lest you want to join him in the next world.”
“I want to join him in this world,” I said raggedly. I turned, and stumbled. “If he drinks your potion, will it save him?”
Morrigu narrowed her gaze. “That was not the bargain.”
“Do you want the chalice?” I asked bitterly. “I’m changing the terms. Answer the question.” I fell to my knees, sucking in harsh breaths. I heard an odd cracking sound and agony shot through my limbs. I kept a death grip on the chalice.
“Foolish girl,” she said softly. “Yes, the potion will save him. He will live again as he was—but the magic is meant for you. Do you love him so much that you would give up your only chance to live?”
“Yes,” I said, and it was true. But I wasn’t giving up my life. At least I hoped I wasn’t. The injector was still in my hand, hidden by the sleeve of my pajama top.
“Very well,” said Morrigu. “I will trade Damian’s life for my chalice.”
Well, at least she hadn’t told me something cryptic and stupid. I gave her the chalice. She held the edge of it by her fingertips. She raised her other arm and a small, silver dagger appeared. She drew the blade under her wrist; black blood dribbled into the cup.
As the Morrigu whispered words I didn’t understand, the dagger disappeared. In its place, she held a grape-sized lustrous gray rock, which she put inside the chalice. I heard a metallic plop, and then silver sparkles emitted from the concoction.
“Silver, blood, antimony, chalice,” said Morrigu. “Life reborn.” She walked to the dais, leaned over, and lifted Damian slightly. She whispered into his ear, and his mouth opened wide.
She poured all the contents down his throat.
I burned.
My muscles were pulling away from breaking bones.
I screamed.
“She’s trying to shift,” said Drake, kneeling next to me. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”
“Kelsey.”
I looked up and saw Damian peering at me over the edge of the altar. He looked alive and healthy, as though he’d never spent a second as a corpse. My love. My mate.
Morrigu had kept her promise.
I lifted the injector and slammed it into my thigh.
“No!” He leapt off the dais and cradled me. He picked up the silver tube and looked down at me with a horrified gaze. “What have you done, Schätzchen?”
“It’s okay,” I said. I pressed my palm against his cheek. “I thought I’d lost you.”
“Never, my love. Never.”
“Aufanie and Tark are coming through the portal,” said Alaya.
I saw a bright light somewhere to the left of Damian, but I couldn’t look away from him.
“Family reunion time,” I said. My body started to shake, and my vision grayed around the edges. I tried to fight off the creature growing inside me, but I was helpless. And scared. Damian held me, never looking away, pouring his strength and love into me, wave after wave of it. It sustained me. Panic receded.
“Damian.” The sweet face of Aufanie and the stern visage of Tark leaned over me.
“S-say hello to your mother,” I told Damian. “Don’t be rude.”
He barked a laugh, and then he broke eye contact to look at his mother. “I understand,” he said in a broken voice. “I would do for Kelsey in a heartbeat what you did for my father. I’m sorry, Mother.”
“You forgive me,” she whispered. Crystalline tears fell from her eyes.
“As do we all, Mother,” said Drake and Darrius together as they joined the circle of faces above me. This was my family. The family of my heart. The ones who loved me. I felt that truth, that unalterable joy pulsing all around, filling me, healing me, buoying me.
“The circle is closed,” said Morrigu. I couldn’t see the Goddess, but her voice was close. “The bargain is met, Aufanie. Blessed be.”
“Blessed be, Morrigu.” Aufanie looked at me, her smile beatific. “Peace, child,” she said soothingly, and placed her palm against my forehead.
Tark covered her hand with his and said, “Welcome, daughter.”
Inside me, beyond the shadows of my soul, something wonderful stirred.
The beast nestled inside me, the one that felt like hope, like belonging, bloomed to the surface. A voluminous whiteness burst around me, and the terrible agony faded.
Everything shifted back together, but in a completely different way.
I was reborn.
I felt the power, the strength in my muscles, the wonderment that beat within me with the same ferocity of my pounding heart.
I lifted my snout, and howled.
“Wolf of Silver,” said Aufanie. “Life-mate of the lycanthrope king.”
I stood next to Damian, and he put his hand on my scruff. Jeff meandered over and looked up at me, his bug eyes assessing my new form. I leaned down and licked his face. He snuffled, then lay down, putting his head on his paws.
I watched as Aufanie lifted off her crown and placed it on her son’s head. And then Tark removed his collar and clasped it around my neck. Happiness rippled through me, and I barked.
Aufanie and Tark bowed to us.
“All hail the new king and queen of lycanthropes,” said Alaya in her scratchy voice. Everyone offered us their obeisance.
Even Morrigu.
Click here for more books by this author
Epilogue
Three months later . . .
“Any word from Alaya?”I asked as Damian drove down Sanderson Street to Jessica and Patrick’s home. It was the first time we’d been back to Broken Heart since the night Damian had us whisked away to his castle.
“Nein. Maria promised to keep us informed.”
Maria had been named the new high priestess, and she’d been a lot nicer to me now that I was her queen an’ all. Heh.
Slowly but surely the lycans—full-bloods and Roma alike—were returning to Schwarzwald. A new community was being built—in a location far away from the original one. The remnants of the first village had been razed, and a small memorial erected. Damian wanted everyone to remember what had been sacrificed sixty years ago, but he didn’t want them to, as Jessica so often said, wallow around in the past.
I knew Alaya had left because of Darrius. Damian had kept his promise
to her about not revealing her identity, but Darrius had been nosing (hah) around, asking questions. Her disappearance had only whetted Darrius’s appetite to know who she was . . . and you know, I hadn’t promised Alaya not to say anything.
But I also knew Damian had kept his mouth shut to protect his brother.
I’m not sure, however, that Darrius would think of it as a favor.
Aufanie, Tark, and Damian’s brothers all resided with us at the castle. We had a lot of guests these days, mostly the lycans who were helping to build the new town. The castle was big enough to hold a thousand or so people, so we had plenty of space. I was still getting lost, too, but that was the perk of having a goddess for a mother-inlaw. She always knew where to find me.
I hadn’t heard from Jarred except once. Not long after Damian and I were official married (in the chapel where we’d saved each other), I received a bouquet of lilies. The card only said, “Be happy. J.”
I wanted Jarred to find what he was looking for, but I hoped he found a better way to go about his search.
Damian parked the BMW. Then he took my hand and pressed his lips against my wrist. I melted instantly. “Are you ready?”
“As long as I have you, I can do anything.”
The weapons of war were being carefully arranged by the leaders of the combatants. Two big-screen televisions, two Xbox 360s, and two sets of Rock Band 3 paranormal-ized (as Jess called it) were being set up, while the captains of the opposing sides—Patrick, the vampire, and Damian, the lycanthrope—eyed each other suspiciously.
I stood between Jessica and Patsy, behind the safety of the couch, eating a cupcake. I’d been craving them more than usual, but I figured that just meant that the child growing within my womb totally got the delights of sugar and fat. And also, she was a girl. I just knew it—even though Damian and I had decided to be surprised. (He thought we were having a boy. Hah.)
“I never got a crown,” said Patsy, as she gazed longingly at the one perched on my husband’s head. “Seriously. I ruled vampires and lycans for eight freaking years, and I never got any cool accessories.”
“Does Gabriel count?” asked Jessica.
We snickered. She plucked another truffle from the gold box she held. I peered inside, sniffing, and she looked at me, baring her fangs.
“You are so selfish,” I said. I pointed to my belly. “Do you want my child to suffer?”
“I’m protecting your ass,” she said. “Literally. You’re getting some junk in the trunk, girl.”
I gave her my best puppy-dog look.
“Christ. All right, already.” She jabbed the box toward me and pointed to the corner piece. “That one’s like lemon pie.”
“Thanks.” I grabbed it and popped it in my mouth. “Mmm. Good.”
Jessica stared at me, horrified. “You have no idea how to properly eat a Godiva truffle. It’s impossible that we’re friends.”
“I think I’m more a sapphire kind of girl,” mused Patsy. “Maybe some platinum gold. Hey, Damian, how do you feel about loaning out your headgear?”
“No can do, Liebling,” he said, flashing a smile. He looked at me and winked. “It’s part of a set.”
“It still freaks me out to see him all smiley,” muttered Jessica. “It’s like the sun turned purple or something. You know. Unnatural.”
“Says the vampire,” said Patsy. She looked at me, her belly more rounded than mine. “You hear that Margaret Morningstone was committed to the loony bin?”
I nodded. “By her own children.” I glanced at Eva, who was reading an instruction manual and telling Lorcan how to set up the drum kit. “She had a nervous breakdown. And then some journalist discovered her latest bestseller was a bunch of lies.”
“Interesting,” said Jessica, who didn’t sound interested at all. “Don’t fuck with karma.”
Or with vampires or their friends, I thought, inwardly smiling. “Have you heard anything else from the Vederes?” I asked.
“Nothing that makes any sense,” said Patsy. “’Bout the only thing we know for sure is that I’m not gonna be queen of the vampires for much longer. And you know what? Just watching over the loup de sang will be fine by me. I might even resign from the Broken Heart council and go on an actual vacation.”
“We’re done,” declared Patrick.
“Woot!” Jessica put her chocolates on a nearby table and literally flew over the couch to jump into her husband’s arms. “Nice job, honey!”
I joined my husband on our side. He leaned down to kiss me, flattening his palm against my slightly rounded belly. “Are you ready to rock, Schätzchen?”
“And roll,” I said.
Damian kissed me again. “I love you,” he whispered against my lips.
“Love you back,” I said, my heart full of love—and a serious need to wallop some vamps on Rock Band. “Now let’s kick their asses.”
“As my queen commands.” He lifted my hand and turned it up, pressing his lips against the pulse point. I shivered. I don’t think I’d ever get tired of him doing that.
“This ain’t a game for sissies,” said Jessica. “Grab a guitar, Romeo, and quit pawing your drummer. Sicko.”
Damian laughed.
Jessica sat down by her drum kit and did a neck roll. “It’s time for the Broken Heart Bloodsuckers to school Lycan Therapy.”
“Try not to cry when we spank you,” I offered sweetly.
“Oh,” said Jessica, grinning broadly, “it’s on, sistah. It’s on like Donkey Kong.”
And it was.
THE BROKEN HEART TURN-BLOODS
*Jessica Matthews: Widow (first husband, Richard). Mother to Bryan and Jenny, and to adopted son, Rich Jr. Stay-at-home mom. Vampire of Family Ruadan. Mated to Patrick O’Halloran.
Charlene Mason: Deceased. Mistress of Richard Matthews. Mother to Rich Jr. Receptionist for insurance company. Vampire of Family Ruadan.
Linda Beauchamp: Divorced (first husband, Earl). Mother to MaryBeth. Nail technician. Vampire of Family Koschei. Mated to Dr. Stan Michaels.
MaryBeth Beauchamp: Nanny to Marchand triplets. Vampire of Family Ruadan. Mated to Rand.
*Evangeline LeRoy: Mother to Tamara. Teacher at night school and colibrarian of Broken Heart and Consortium archives. Vampire of Family Koschei. Mated to Lorcan O’Halloran.
Patricia “Patsy” Donovan: Divorced (first husband, Sean). Mother to Wilson, and to loup de sang triplets. Former beautician. Queen of vampires and loup de sang. Vampire of Family Amahté. Mated to Gabriel Marchand.
Ralph Genessa: Widowed (first wife, Teresa). Father to twins Michael and Stephen, and to daughter Cassandra. Dragon handler. Vampire of Family Hua Mu Lan. Mated to half dragon Libby Monroe.
Simone Sweet: Widowed (first husband, Jacob). Mother to Glory. Mechanic. Vampire of Family Velthur. Mated to Braddock Hayes.
1Phoebe Allen: Divorced (first husband, Jackson Tate). Mother to Daniel. Comanages The Knight’s Inn in Tulsa. Vampire of Family Durga. Mated to Connor Ballard.
Darlene Clark: Deceased. Divorced (first husband, Jason Clark1). Mother to Marissa. Operated Internet scrapbooking business. Vampire of Family Durga.
1Elizabeth Bretton née Silverstone: Widowed (first husband, Henry). Stepmother to Venice. Socialite and jewelry maker. Vampire of Family Zela. Mated to werejaguar Tez Jones.
GLOSSARY 1
GERMAN WORDS/TERMS
Deutsches Reich: German Reich also known as the Third Reich
Liebling: Darling
Mein kleiner Frechdachs: My little cheeky monkey (rascal, scoundrel)
Nein und abermals nein: A thousand times, no
Schätzchen: Little treasure
Schwarzwald: Black Forest
Was zum Teufel: What the fuck?
Wehrmacht: Unified armed forces of Germany from 1935–1945
GAELIC IRISH WORDS/TERMS
a ghrá mo chroi: Love of my heart
a stóirín: My little darling
a thaisce: My dear/darling/treasure
> aiteacht: Inexplicable sense of thing or place that is not right
bard: Poet-druid (see: Filí). Storyteller and singer of Celtic tribes
céardsearc: First love/beloved one
damnú air: Damn it
deamhan fola: Blood devil
draíocht: Magic
droch fola: Bad or evil blood
druid: The philosopher, teacher, and judge of Celtic tribes
Filí: (Old Irish) Poet-druid (see: Bard)
Go dtachta an diabhal thú: May the devil choke you (Irish curse)
Is minic a bhris béal duine a shrón: Many a time a man’s mouth broke his nose
Leamhán sléibhe: A Wych Elm (the only species of Elm native to Ireland)
mo chroi: My heart
Ná glac pioc comhairle gan comhairle ban: Never take advice without a woman’s guidance
Níl neart air: (lit. There is no power in it) There is no helping it
Ovate: Healer-druid; healer and seer of Celtic tribes
Solas: Light
Sonuachar: Soul mate
Súmaire Fola: Bloodsucker
Tír na Marbh: Land of the Dead
Titim gan éirí ort: May you fall without rising (Irish curse)
OTHER WORDS/TERMS
Centurion/Centurio: Professional officer in the Roman army in charge of a century, or centuria, of men
Century/Centuria: Group of 60 to 160 men in the Roman infantry led by a centurion
Durriken: Romany boy’s name that means “he who forecasts”
Fac fortia et patere: Latin for “Do brave deeds and endure”
Gadjikane: Romany for “non-Gypsy”
Muló: Romany for “living dead”
Roma: Member of nomadic people originating in Northern India; gypsies considered as a group (Also the term used for cousins of full-blood lycanthropes who can only shift during a full moon and who hunt rogue vampires)
Must Love Lycans Page 26
