Eternal Reign

by Melody Johnson

  “I know. That’s why I need to come with you to meet Greta. I saw my attacker.”

  I blinked. “You did? And you remember it?”

  She nodded. “He’s a man, about five-eleven, one hundred and ninety pounds. Curly blond hair and brown eyes. Features as handsome and fierce as an angel, even as he stabbed at my chest.”

  I closed my eyes against the person her description brought to mind. I knew a man with curly blond hair and velvet brown eyes. He’d stood over me as I nearly died, the outline of the sun a halo around his blond head, except Ian Walker was no angel.

  Walker was many things—brave, loyal, prepared, unforgiving, driven—but for all the good and the ugly inside Walker, he did not hunt humans for their hearts. Granted, Meredith still had hers, so that begged the question: what creature would attack Meredith in broad daylight, claw at her chest, not take her heart, and leave her for dead?

  For the first time in my very short experience dealing with vampires, I hoped that Meredith had been entranced, because the alternative was unthinkable.

  I opened my eyes to meet Meredith’s fierce expression.

  “I know what I saw,” she insisted. “Greta can give me a sketch artist and we—What? Why are you shaking your head?”

  “Do you remember how fuzzy your memory was after being mugged? You said that it felt as if the memories were slick, and just as you’d recall the sound of his voice or the shape of his mouth, the features of your attacker would slip away before they could take root in your mind.”

  She nodded. “This is the opposite. I know exactly what happened this time. My memory is crystal clear.”

  “You were brutally attacked and unconscious. Between blood loss and concussion, your memory shouldn’t be crystal clear, even if you did see your attacker.”

  Meredith leaned back against the bed, frowning. “What are you saying, Cassidy?”

  “I’m saying that these creatures have the ability to twist the evidence and change memories. It’s why I can’t find a credible witness for my article and why you can’t remember who mugged you five weeks ago. It’s why I’m questioning whether your memory of yesterday is really your memory or the memory that they wanted you to remember.”

  Meredith’s eyes widened. “Are you saying that whoever attacked me changed my memory of what happened? Is that even possible?”

  “Yes, it is,” I whispered.

  Meredith glanced around the room, her eyes wide. “Like men in black?” Meredith asked.

  I laughed. I couldn’t help it. My nerves were strung on a fraying string, and her innocent question—the image of Dominic in shades and using MIB technology—was the final stretch that made it snap.

  “I was being serious,” Meredith said, exasperated.

  I wiped my eyes. “I’m sorry. I know you were, and so am I. The truth is just so unbelievable that saying the words out loud is crazy. But after all this time, and everything we’ve been through, I think not telling anyone is the thing that will actually drive me crazy.”

  “Just tell me,” Meredith said. “I’m your best friend. Let me be crazy with you.”

  In the end, I didn’t tell Meredith the truth because of her pleading or the fact that she was my best friend. I didn’t tell her because I needed desperately to tell someone on the outside, although that was true, too.

  I told Meredith the truth because she should have known weeks ago. She should have never been ignorant of the risk in this city, and as her best friend, I should have entrusted her with that knowledge to protect herself.

  Keeping the truth from her had nearly killed her, and I wouldn’t make that same mistake again.

  When I was done, Meredith met my gaze for a long moment and said, “I think it’s time you got over Adam.”

  I blinked, both relieved and exasperated by her response. “After everything I just said, your priority is me getting over Adam?”

  Meredith grinned. “When has your love life not been my priority?”

  “I think you missed the part when I told you that Dr. Nicholas Leander is actually Dominic Lysander, Master vampire of New York City.”

  “I missed no such thing, and if that’s reason enough not to love the man, then great, but that’s not what’s holding you back, is it?”

  I opened my mouth to deny my true feelings for Dominic and hesitated. I’d just spilled my guts to Meredith. No more lies. But that didn’t necessarily mean I was ready to admit the truth. I closed my mouth and ground my teeth together.

  Meredith leveled me with a look. “Adam tore your beating heart from your chest and ate it for breakfast; I get it. You survived a deathblow and understandably protected your heart from future heartbreak. But that was five years ago, Cassidy. You’re not the same person you were back then.”

  I snorted. “I’m not the same person I was last week.”

  “Exactly. So as this new person, where’s your heart now?”

  The truth, I reminded myself. This was the time for only the truth. I took a deep breath and said, “I’m not sure. My heart is somewhere I’d never in a million years would have anticipated it being, and I don’t know how I feel about that.”

  “Maybe it’s time you figured it out,” Meredith said.

  “Maybe.” I shook my head. “After we figure out everything else.”

  “No time like the present,” Meredith said, resuming her effort to get out of bed.

  I groaned. “What are you doing?” I asked, exasperated. “Lie down. You need rest.”

  “I told you. I’m fine. I feel better than ever, and after everything you just told me, I know why. It’s as if I was never even injured!”

  I rolled my eyes. “That’s a lie, and you know it. Your wounds might be healed, but you lost a lot of blood. You’re weak and in no condition to participate in a murder investigation.”

  “I’m in better condition than you,” Meredith pointed out. “Your leg is broken. At least I can still walk.”

  I threw up my hands. “Fine. If you can walk down to the meeting of your own volition, who am I to stop you?”

  I turned the handle of my scooter, about to leave her in the dust.

  “Cassidy?”

  I paused mid-turn and met her eyes. My breath caught at her expression. Her face was solid, like granite, but I could tell how upset she was by the quiver of her chin.

  “Oh, Meredith—”

  “Thank you,” she said. She had to clear her throat to continue. “Thank you for finally telling me. You were right. The truth is crazy. If Dr. Chunn’s test results hadn’t confirmed the DNA of another species, I never would have believed it. I still don’t quite believe it,” she said, shaking her head. “But I believe you.”

  “No, I’m sorry,” I said, and this time, I had to clear my own throat. “I should have told you earlier. You should have known and been able to protect yourself. I should have—”

  “You didn’t do anything wrong, Cassidy,” Meredith interrupted. She stepped away from the bed and knelt in front of me. I leaned into her, and we wrapped our arms around each other. I clung to her, hanging on tight to her and what was left of my sanity.

  “I’m so, so sorry,” I whispered against her neck.

  Meredith pulled back to meet my eyes. “I don’t know what I would have done in your shoes, but I know one thing for sure. You’re not the one who attacked me and tried to kill me.”

  “I know, but—”

  “And you fought for me and found a way to save me.” She squeezed my shoulders tight. “You saved me, Cassidy.”

  I nodded numbly; the relief that Meredith didn’t blame me for her attack was almost as overwhelming as the relief that she’d survived.

  She smiled. “Good. Now, let’s go help Greta find the bastards who attacked me and make sure they never attack anyone else again.”

  Ten Hours before the Leveling

  Only one thing hurts worse than having your heart ripped from your chest, and that’s having your maker do the ripping.

  —NEI
L CAROLE, on the pains of servitude

  I didn’t sign up for this power struggle bullshit. I don’t care who leads the coven as long as I don’t have to.

  —RAFE DEVEREAUX, on the pains of servitude

  My every thought, every choice, every action and breath—if I so choose to breathe—occurs only after I’ve considered the potential benefits and threats that may impact the coven as a result of my decisions. Recently, what benefits the coven is not what the coven desires, and they resent me for it. But their desires are not my priority. My priority is our survival, and the majority of my vampires will see the wisdom of my intentions. If they don’t, then they can go to hell.

  Ruling on a pedestal is lonely, but I’ve endured enough servitude to know that I wouldn’t have it any other way but my own.

  —DOMINIC LYSANDER, on the pains of masterdom

  Chapter 24

  Dominic, Rowens, Meredith, and I stood in front of Greta, Harroway, and Dr. Chunn, and the tension between us made me feel like we were facing a firing squad. Well, technically, I wasn’t standing, but Greta didn’t seem to care if I was unofficially handicapped or not. She could kill with the fury in her eyes.

  “Detective Wahl,” Dominic began, “if I may—”

  “You may not,” Greta cut in. “You’ve missed two of our meetings, one of which I expressly told you to attend. You don’t get to talk.”

  “I can explain—” I began.

  “And you,” Greta said, shifting her target to me, “sweet-talked your way into a crime scene using my name as leverage. That is inexcusable.”

  “But she—” Meredith began.

  “And don’t even get me started on you.” Greta’s face softened as she shifted her gaze to Meredith. “You should be home, resting.”

  “I can’t. My home is a crime scene,” she said.

  “Perhaps we should just focus on the case,” Rowens said, the voice of calm reason. “You can crucify your team later.”

  Greta turned her fury on him. “Meredith’s attack is the case.”

  “We don’t know that for certain,” I reminded her, hoping to temper her anger with the facts. “The attacks at Harry Maze Playground and Wingate Park weren’t personal. They occurred in public places with multiple victims of convenience. Meredith’s attack was at her home, not in public, and she was a specific target, not convenient in the least.”

  Harroway nodded. “That’s true.”

  Dr. Chunn shook her head. “I found evidence that says otherwise.”

  “Oh?” I said noncommittally, wondering whether Dr. Chunn’s evidence would be real or fabricated by whoever had attacked Meredith.

  “Hit us with the facts, Susanna,” Rowens encouraged her.

  Dr. Chunn blushed prettily behind her thick, gray and yellow hipster glasses. “As with all the forensic evidence in this case, the facts only open a host of questions instead of answering the ones we already have.”

  Greta frowned. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

  Dr. Chunn grimaced. “Scales were found at the scene and beneath Meredith’s fingernails—the same scales that were found at our other scenes. But they weren’t an identical DNA match.”

  “Translation?”

  “Whatever species of animal attacked Wingate Park last night also attacked Meredith at her home this afternoon, but not necessarily the same exact animal. Granted, we don’t have DNA samples from every animal from last night, not for lack of trying.”

  “So the only thing we know for certain is that one of our mysterious, human-sized, bat, heart-eating creatures, potentially from Wingate Park but not necessarily, attacked Meredith without eating her heart, their signature mark.”

  “That’s correct.”

  Greta closed her eyes and squeezed the bridge of her nose.

  “Maybe it was interrupted before it could finish its feeding,” Harroway offered.

  “Was there evidence of anyone else in the apartment?” Rowens asked.

  Dr. Chunn shook her head. “If someone interrupted, you would think the animal would have attacked whoever had interrupted as well, but only Meredith’s blood was found at the scene.”

  Harroway crossed his arms. “Unless whoever interrupted knew the assailant.”

  Dr. Chunn frowned. “The scales found on scene were from one creature. There’s no evidence of a second assailant.”

  “Maybe the second assailant didn’t attack, only interrupted the attack, like a lookout or a partner or—”

  “Or their leader?” Dominic asked.

  Harroway nodded. “Exactly.”

  I shook my head. Dominic was trying to pin this on Jillian and the Damned, but the timeline didn’t fit. “Can you estimate the time of Meredith’s attack?” I asked Dr. Chunn.

  “To the hour?” Dr. Chunn laughed. “I’m good, DiRocco, but unfortunately even the most advanced forensic technology isn’t that good. Based on the amount of blood loss from Meredith’s injuries, I’d estimate the attack took place anywhere between late morning yesterday to early afternoon.”

  I nodded. “During the day.”

  Dr. Chunn nodded. “Based on Meredith’s wounds, she would have bled out relatively slowly. She was incapacitated, but no major arteries had been severed. Meredith was very lucky.”

  Rowens frowned. “Or someone wanted her to suffer.”

  I glanced at Meredith. She was biting her lip, probably trying to revive a memory she didn’t have anymore.

  “The incidents at Harry Maze Playground and Wingate Park were random hunts, not strategic attacks,” I said, thinking out loud. “Why would they suddenly have an agenda? Why would they target Meredith specifically?”

  “Whether or not the attack was premeditated and personal, Meredith’s survival is nothing short of a miracle.” Dr. Chunn met Meredith’s gaze. “Given the extent of your injuries and the time you spent bleeding out—” She shook her head, baffled. “According to science, you should be dead.”

  Meredith shrugged. “I must have someone watching over me.”

  I coughed to cover up my bark of laughter and shook my head. “I’m sorry, but I’m not convinced that the same creature who attacked Meredith is responsible for the previous attacks at Harry Maze Playground and Wingate Park. Despite the scales, this attacker has a completely different MO.”

  Greta opened her mouth.

  “If I may,” Dominic interjected, “I have a suggestion.”

  Greta spread her arms out. “By all means, don’t show up for my other meetings, but please, contribute to the ones you deem worthy to attend.”

  Dominic ignored her sarcasm and took her at her word. “We have only ever been reactionary to the attacks on this city. I think it’s time we anticipate their next move and plan a course of action to either stop them or catch them in their own game.”

  Harroway raised his eyebrows. “Like a booby trap?”

  “No, like a stakeout,” I said. “We don’t have the manpower, weapons, or means to stop them, but I have silver-plated tracking devices. If we stake out their next hit and shoot trackers into a few of the creatures, we can follow them back to the location where they hide during the day.” I turned to Greta. “Instead of just waiting around for them to attack, we’d be able to take the fight to them.”

  Greta was nodding, the cogs in her head turning in sync with mine. “If we discover their daytime hideout, we could plan a raid and take them all out at once. We could finally play our game, not theirs.”

  “Planning a stakeout is great if they give us fair warning,” Harroway interjected, “but how will we anticipate the location of their next attack? Does anyone have a creature in their back pocket with a tip?” he asked, pinning his eyes on me.

  I crossed my arms. “Funny.”

  “I’m not laughing,” Harroway said.

  I opened my mouth, not sure if Harroway was playing nice or just twisting the knife, but Dominic clamped his hand on my shoulder and squeezed.

  “We need bait,” Dominic said.

&nb
sp; I glared at him and struggled not to roll my eyes. Every plan he’d ever suggested used me as bait. Why should this one be any different? “We need inside information,” I said.

  “They’re creatures who hunt. Their attacks aren’t premeditated, so there isn’t inside information to be had,” Rowens chimed in. “We need to determine how they choose their hunting grounds and either anticipate their next attack or stage a scenario that will draw them to us.”

  “Like I said,” Dominic murmured. “Bait.”

  I tapped my lips, thinking. “For argument’s sake, let’s say that Meredith’s attack was separate.” I held up a hand when everyone in the room opened their mouths to argue. “I’ll concede that her attack is related in some fashion, but everything about it breaks their typical pattern. We need to analyze their patterns to predict their next move.”

  Greta made a circling gesture with her hand. “Fine, assuming that, for argument’s sake, what’s your point?”

  “What do Harry Maze Playground and Wingate Park have in common?” I asked, working through my process out loud. “They’re both wide open, yet enclosed areas. They’re both tucked away in the borough, yet have high foot traffic. They—”

  “They both had events,” Meredith said.

  I frowned, thinking. “Harry Maze Playground had the Night Owl literacy fund-raiser, but Wingate Park didn’t have an event.”

  Meredith nodded. “The crime scene was the event. It drew more people than would normally be in one location. It could have been a trap, set by the creatures to ensure a crowd, but if these creatures are led purely by instinct and the thirst to hunt, they don’t have the mental awareness to plan a trap. Maybe a few creatures attacked initially, and then when we came on scene for the investigation, it drew the rest of them. Maybe we unwittingly created a bloodbath.”

  I nodded along with her. “Maybe. All those heartbeats migrating to one centralized location.... It would have been like a homing beacon.”