Eternal Reign

by Melody Johnson

  He held up a hand. “Don’t.” His voice was gravel through a grinder.

  I stilled, waiting on his next move.

  Several minutes passed before he pulled himself together, before his ears, talons, and fangs receded and his legs clicked back into place. I waited silently, warily, as he stood to face me. When he eventually met my gaze, his expression was guarded and stoic.

  I had a flashback to a similar moment between Walker and me, when he’d perceived my alliance with Dominic as a personal betrayal. We’d looked at each other like strangers, like Dominic was looking at me now. I never thought Walker would be my enemy, but currently, we weren’t even on speaking terms. If he ever saw me again, I had no doubt that he’d consider the merits of killing me to kill Dominic through our metaphysical bonds.

  I’d labeled Dominic my enemy from the moment we’d met—the enemy I aligned myself with for mutual benefits, but an enemy nonetheless. Now that I was at risk of losing that alliance, I realized how close we’d really grown, how far we’d come since that first night, and how much of myself I’d lose if I lost him.

  More than I’d lost when I lost Walker.

  A chill ran through me, and I shuddered with self-doubt.

  “I’ve controlled my rage enough that I won’t rip you to shreds,” Dominic said dismissively. “I won’t harm you, I promise. Unlike some, I honor my promises.” He sneered.

  His casually spoken “rip you to shreds” was a little disturbing. “I’m not afraid that you’ll hurt me.”

  He snorted. “There’s no use lying. I can smell your fear. One of the few senses I’ve still maintained,” he said bitterly.

  “I’m afraid, but not that you’ll hurt me,” I began, but when I tried to find the words to continue—to explain that I’d lost enough people in my life, I couldn’t lose him, too—my throat ached. I cleared my throat, but it only squeezed tighter. I couldn’t speak.

  “You should be,” Dominic hissed. He turned to look at the far wall. “If we’d met a few decades ago, you’d already be dead. Only my self-control and curiosity have saved you. Not much else.”

  He was lying. I could tell by the way he’d looked at the wall instead of me, by the stubborn set to his jaw and the pain in his eyes. I’d hurt him, and he was lashing out, trying to hurt me back.

  “I didn’t betray you,” I whispered.

  “You promised to keep my existence a secret, and then you exposed my existence using my own blood, the blood I gave you to protect you.” He locked eyes with me. “Betrayal.”

  I shook my head. “You’re generalizing. I promised not to expose your existence to humanity, and I haven’t. The public doesn’t know that vampires exist. We need Greta and her team working on this case to help us find where the Damned are hiding. You’re a part of that team now, if you remember, Dr. Leander, and as such, you need to be a team player. For the rest of the team to be effective at their jobs, they need all the facts.”

  “You’re nitpicking details,” he said dismissively. “You broke your promise, and now the Day Reapers are here to clean up the mess.”

  “They’re here because the Damned are murdering people by the dozens.”

  “They could care less about murder. They’re here because people remember the murders, and now, thanks to you, they suspect vampires.”

  “They don’t suspect vampires. That was the whole point of—”

  He held up a hand. “They suspect an undiscovered being is responsible for the murders, and they have forensic evidence to prove it, which is much worse. And the Day Reapers know it’s your fault. They’re here for you, Cassidy, which is exactly what I was trying to avoid!” He smashed his hand into a dresser, and the wood split.

  I winced. “I didn’t mean for the Day Reapers to come. I didn’t think that using your blood to help this case was a betrayal. I wasn’t trying to expose your existence. I was trying to help.”

  “You were trying to find a loophole,” Dominic snapped. “How could you not? You’re a reporter through and through, and it’s killing you not to report the facts. How could you know the truth and not share it with the world?”

  “I gave you my word, and as a reporter, I stand by that. I protect my sources.”

  Dominic crossed his arms. “Then what was Dr. Susanna Chunn doing with my blood?” he asked. He narrowed his eyes at me. “The truth between us, Cassidy. Only truth.”

  I sighed, hoping he’d understand and knowing from the hard ball of dread in my stomach that he wouldn’t. “That is the truth. Without a basis for comparison, Dr. Chunn would have discovered the DNA composition of the Damned and assumed that an unclassified creature roaming New York City is responsible for the massacres, but there are actually two unclassified creatures roaming New York City: the Damned and the vampires. Thanks to your blood, Greta knows the difference, and the Damned will take the blame for their crimes, as they should.”

  Dominic narrowed his eyes. “You mean four.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Four what?”

  “There are four unclassified creatures roaming New York City: the Damned, the vampires, the Day Reapers, and the night bloods. When you expose the existence of vampires, will you expose your own existence?”

  I stared at him, at a loss.

  “I’ve warned you several times about Greta’s perceptive nature and how imperative it is to keep her in the dark,” Dominic growled. “You essentially signed her death warrant as far as I’m concerned.”

  “You wouldn’t,” I whispered, but I knew better. I recognized that gleam in his eyes. He was angry and thirsty, and at heart, no matter his more tender feelings toward me, he was still a predator. And a predator threatened is dangerous.

  “If you push me further than I’m willing to bend, I will break. But it’s not me who will feel the pain.”

  My closest friends and family were always the ones who suffered the most for my mistakes. I could see the pain in Dominic’s eyes beneath the anger. Under the unbearable weight of everyone I’d nearly lost and could still lose—Meredith, Nathan, and now Dominic—I lost my composure.

  “You’re right,” I whispered. My throat clamped shut against the sudden threat of tears.

  Dominic froze, nearly blending into invisibility from sheer immobility. “Come again?”

  “I’m sorry you feel betrayed, I really do, but you’re right. I can’t keep my promise. I can’t protect both you and my loved ones.” I shook my head, feeling torn and heartsick. “Meredith nearly died because I kept her in the dark. I’m her best friend, and I didn’t tell her the truth about the creatures stalking this city. I let her be ignorant and vulnerable, and because of me, she couldn’t defend herself. She had no way of knowing she even needed to defend herself!”

  The dam burst, and words spilled out of me faster than the tears drenching my cheeks.

  “I wrote an article,” I admitted. “I’ve been writing it for weeks now, draft after draft—editing and shaping and perfecting—and it’s almost done. I just need quotes. I just need witnesses. I need your permission, too,” I added when Dominic’s eyes widened. “But maybe I can’t wait on that. Maybe the world needs to know the truth, so people can protect themselves and not die like Meredith nearly died!”

  He was silent for a long, tense moment. Maybe he would tear me limb from limb after all.

  He wiped his hand down his face. “Is Meredith all right?” he asked.

  Of all the things he could have expressed, I hadn’t expected genuine concern. I burst out crying in gut-wrenching sobs, beyond words.

  He walked to the bed, bridging the distance between us, and held me. He just leaned down, wrapped his arms around my back, pressed me gently against his chest, and held me against him, offering me the comfort and haven of his body.

  I cried harder. His arms tightened fractionally. His hand moved over my back, in gentle circular motions, but still only offering, not demanding, and I was undone. He’d never offered anything, gently or otherwise—only demands from Dominic Lysander
—but for the first time, he gave without expecting anything in return. No deals. No quid pro quo. Just his arms around me and my tears between us.

  Finally, reluctantly, I pulled away and answered his question. “Sevris saved her. I think. The last I saw, she was alive, and Nathan was taking her to the hospital.”

  “What happened?” Dominic asked. An intensity sharpened his gaze, and I couldn’t tell if he was angry because of my distress or his own helplessness. Another attack had occurred in his city, under his watch, and he didn’t have the power or means to control it anymore.

  “I don’t know exactly what happened,” I admitted. “She skipped our meeting with Greta, so I visited her apartment afterwards to see why she’d missed it.”

  Dominic nodded, encouraging me to continue.

  I took a deep breath, trying to smooth the quaver in my voice. “When I arrived, the paramedics were already there, and she wasn’t responsive. They were shocking her with the defibrillator when I walked in. Her heart was so weak from all the blood loss, but—” My voice broke.

  “Take your time,” Dominic murmured, his hand still circling my back gently.

  I cleared my throat. “—but she still had it. Her heart was still in her chest. She’d been stabbed or sliced by something, but her body hadn’t been dismembered or torn apart.”

  “It couldn’t have been a vampire or the Damned if she was attacked during the day,” Dominic reasoned. “And it doubly couldn’t be the Damned if she still had her heart.”

  “Day Reapers don’t need the cover of darkness,” I pointed out.

  Dominic covered my mouth. “Lower your voice.”

  “You said your rooms were safe.” My voice was muffled against his palm.

  “They are, but discretion never killed anyone. Don’t accuse them unless you know for certain,” Dominic grunted. “Even then, don’t accuse them. Not that you could ever know for certain.”

  “Now that Dr. Chunn has both vampire and Damned blood for comparison, I’ll certainly know for certain,” I said, watching him carefully. “I’ll know exactly what happened. Uncovering the truth is kind of my specialty, Dominic.”

  His hold on me loosened. He let his hands drop to his sides and took a step back. “I believe this is precisely the reason why we are required to entrance all humans, no matter the circumstances. Your memories and conflict of interest make you a liability,” he said dryly.

  I stilled. “You said that entrancing me was unthinkable.”

  “So I did. It seems we both gave promises we now regret.”

  “Didn’t you hear what High Lord Henry said? I’m not human. I’m a Day Reaper.”

  “High Lord Henry?” Dominic coughed. “Dear God, don’t call him that. Ever.” Dominic shielded his eyes with his hand as if pained. “And yes, I heard exactly what he said.”

  I frowned. “Why do you look sick at the thought of me being a Day Reaper?”

  He glared at me from under his hand as he continued to massage his temples.

  “Do you have a headache?” I asked, curiosity getting the best of me. Dominic could usually heal catastrophic wounds instantly, but with his Leveling approaching, maybe he was susceptible to daily aches and pains, like headaches.

  “What?” He looked at his hand, surprised, and then let his hand drop to his side. “No.”

  “You were massaging your temple with your fingertips,” I pointed out. “Do you typically suffer from headaches?”

  “I don’t typically suffer from anything,” he growled.

  I tapped my chin, thinking. Walker suffered from headaches and seizures regularly. One too many concussions, and his brain hadn’t recovered. It made me wonder how many head wounds Dominic had sustained through the years and if his weakened state would surface past injuries. If he was susceptible to headaches, could he be susceptible to seizures, too?

  “The thought of you as a Day Reaper disturbs me profoundly, as it should you.”

  I snorted. The thought of Dominic having a seizure was infinitely more disturbing. “At least they didn’t accuse me of being human. We came this close”—I pinched my fingers until they nearly touched—“to being discovered, and we sneaked past on a technicality. That’s a win as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Only the Chancellor is permitted to transform a Day Reaper. When you transform, you won’t be a member of this coven. You won’t be mine.” He locked eyes with me, his expression more intense than I’d ever seen it. “You’ll be his.”

  I shrugged. “I don’t plan on transforming, so no worries there.”

  Dominic sighed, but the expulsion of his breath was more growl than air. He was frustrated and, for once, not appreciative of my obstinacy.

  “I tolerate your insolence because I’m confident of my ability to eventually persuade you to see reason and agree to the transformation. You tolerate our relationship because you know I won’t transform you without your complete, exuberant consent.”

  I nodded, not particularly agreeing with the word “relationship,” but without another word coming to mind, I let it go. Dominic’s tone was deceptively peaceful, like the silent drop of an impending bomb.

  “The Chancellor won’t wait for your consent nor attempt to convince you. When he feels the time is nigh, he will transform you. No questions asked.”

  And there it was: detonation.

  “Oh,” I breathed, and the cold bite of fear perforated my heart.

  “How could he know for certain what I am?” I asked. “You’ve fed from me. You’ve forged lifelong bonds with me, and you thought I was nothing more than a normal night blood.” Had my heart not physically ached at the thought of my consent being ripped away, I would have chuckled at the oxymoron: normal night blood. As it was, I crossed my arms over my stomach and shivered.

  “You are a night blood, but as usual, there’s nothing normal about you. When you transform, you will become a Day Reaper. You will be able to tolerate sunlight. You will have superior senses, and despite your current physical ailments, you will be the strongest of our kind.”

  “I don’t trust High Lord Henry. You’ve tasted me, and you never said—”

  “I never knew. Only other Day Reapers can taste a potential Day Reaper. You taste like a night blood to me, or at least, you used to before your blood transfusion. I’m told that a Day Reaper’s blood crackles on the tongue, and that if other Day Reapers listen closely enough, they can hear the pops and snaps of the power in your veins, begging for release. But that’s just what I’m told.” Dominic lifted his hands in a helpless gesture.

  “Oh,” I said again, searching for another excuse, any excuse, for why the Chancellor was wrong, because if he wasn’t, or at least if he believed he wasn’t, he thought I was his. And that was unacceptable. “What would happen if you transformed me? Would I turn into one of the Damned?”

  “No, nothing like that,” Dominic waved away my concern. “You would be fine. The catalyst to becoming a Day Reaper is within the night blood, not in the vampire blood used during the transformation. I, on the other hand, would be death walking with the first swallow of your blood.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “The transformation would kill you?”

  Dominic shook his head. “The Chancellor would kill me for such insolence, and take my coven with him,” he said dryly.

  I crossed my arms. “You’d think that since I no longer taste like a night blood to you, I’d no longer taste like a Day Reaper to him.”

  “The Day Reapers have enhanced senses, and the Chancellor himself has the most enhanced senses of all our kind, while my senses are weakening by the day. It’s no surprise that I can’t detect the slow regeneration of your night blood.”

  “But I still can’t control your mind! I can’t block your commands! I can’t—”

  Dominic held up a hand for silence. “Obviously you are not regenerated enough to utilize your natural abilities, but just enough for the Chancellor to detect the nuances of the Day Reaper in your night blood.”

&n
bsp; “He’s mistaken,” I insisted. “He must be.”

  Dominic’s face turned sympathetic, and a wash of panic doused me. Worse than his anger was his pity. He truly believed I was a Day Reaper.

  “He would have no reason to lie, and he’s too powerful not to detect the truth,” Dominic said gently. “You annoyed him enough that had you been anything but a Day Reaper, you would be dead.”

  I shook my head, feeling numb. “What should I do?”

  “What can any of us do? We survive.”

  “That’s precisely my problem, Dominic! I don’t want to survive my brother, my co-workers, Meredith, Greta, and Harroway. I’ve already survived my parents. I don’t want to survive anyone else, let alone everyone else.”

  “You wouldn’t survive me,” Dominic murmured.

  I met his eyes, and something passed between us, a commonality that seemed obvious, but one I’d never previously considered. Dominic was lonely. He’d outlived the family and friends he’d known and loved during his human lifetime and wanted someone with whom he could share his current existence. The thought that I could fill that void was irrational—he’d built an entire city of vampires, transformed hundreds of other night bloods, made new friends and formed fresh alliances. If none of those connections could fill that void, how could I?

  Irrational or not, however, I knew the pit of loss and the need to fill it with something, anything to bury the pain deep enough that not even an excavator could unearth it. I’d filled mine with work, and my single-minded focus to drive away that pain had made my career blossom. Except that, beneath my success and drive, the pain still festered, deep beneath the surface, unseen but still present.

  Adam had been too full of light to follow me down into the darkness. Walker had been too stubborn and would battle against it with his dying breath.

  But Dominic lived in darkness. He breathed it, thrived on it, and would follow me anywhere in it.

  “Unless you reveal my existence to the humans and the humans eradicate us,” Dominic teased, his voice husky but not rattling. His voice wasn’t being affected by animal instinct but the instincts of a man. “But then, you wouldn’t survive either.”