The Last Vampire- Complete series Box Set

by R. A. Steffan

  “What reason is that?” I whispered around the lump in my throat.

  He lifted my hands to his lips and kissed my knuckles. “So that two people who care for each other can be assured that neither of them will ever be forced to live without the other, of course.”

  I opened my mouth to say... something... and burst into ridiculous, girly tears instead. God... bravado aside, I was still a hopeless emotional wreck after the past several weeks. Rans let go of my hands in favor of wrapping his arms around me, and I clung back shamelessly.

  “Shh, I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I still forget how little practice you’ve had at being loved. It’s all right, Zorah. I’m right here. I know you still don’t quite believe it, but I promise you that I’m not going anywhere without you. Not even into death.”

  I cried harder, unable to stop myself despite my overwhelming mortification at being such an idiot—but something about these tears felt different than all the countless other tears I’d shed over the course of the last twenty years since my mother died. Maybe it was because I finally wasn’t alone anymore. Someone cared enough to hold me. Someone cared enough to whisper words of comfort and reassurance in my ear. Or maybe it was because what he’d just said was true.

  No matter what happened, I would never have to live in a world without Rans—because if Rans were dead, I would be dead, too. It was the first time I’d ever looked at the life-bond from a selfish perspective, rather than a guilt-ridden one.

  But despite this mind-bending revelation, I knew we still needed to finish packing and leave before someone who wanted us dead showed up and broke down the door. Rans might be okay with saying goodbye to this life, but I wasn’t ready to let it go just yet. Not after last night.

  Besides, I still had to tell Rans what I’d realized about the bond. Even though it felt like the well of tears lurking inside me was bottomless, I choked them under control and pulled back from Rans’ embrace far enough that I could wipe my eyes.

  “Maybe I don’t have to die of old age in fifty or sixty years, though,” I managed.

  He palmed my cheeks dry with the pad of his thumb, but a look of caution flitted over his features. “Zorah, I can’t—”

  “Vampire blood extends the human lifespan,” I continued quickly, cutting him off. “If it works for the tithelings, shouldn’t it work for me, too? Unless my demon blood interferes somehow, anyway.”

  His expression cleared with understanding. “Ah, I think I see where you’re going with this. But do you truly want that? Take it from a vampire—living forever isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

  I shrugged, affecting nonchalance. “Hey, you know as well as I do that the chances are one or the other of us will get killed trying to keep things between the demons and the Fae from spiraling back into war. But... just in case we don’t...?”

  He kissed my forehead. “If that’s what you truly desire, then bite me like you mean it the next time we’re having sex, love. I’ve no objection.”

  I managed a watery smile, feeling better about this one small aspect of our situation, at least.

  “It’s not nearly as much fun when the hickey heals within seconds, but you’re on,” I promised. Reluctantly, I stepped out of his arms, and he let me. “Now, next question. I know we can’t stay here, but where can we go? Nigellus already knows about Guthrie’s place, and it doesn’t seem fair to drag the poor guy any further into this mess than he already is.”

  Rans drew breath as though to answer, but then his shoulders stiffened and he lunged for the sheathed sword lying on a table nearby. I would have blurted some variation of ‘What the fuck?’, but an instant later I felt a faint change in the room’s air pressure. When I whirled to look behind me, a third person stood in the room.

  Nigellus caught himself against the doorframe as though to combat a moment of dizziness. He straightened almost instantly, though, pinning us with brown eyes that held a hint of hellfire kindling in their depths.

  “Get what you can’t live without, and don’t dawdle,” said the demon. “We need to leave before the wrong people show up, and blood starts spilling.”

  TWO

  I TENSED, WONDERING if I was about to find myself in the middle of an all-out brawl between a vampire and a demon... and if so, whether Rans had a supply of salt in the kitchen downstairs. Rather than attack his former mentor, though, Rans gave me the briefest of looks, paired with an almost imperceptible shake of the head.

  “We were just about to leave, as it happens,” he said. Though he affected a tone of mild surprise at the sudden appearance of an intruder in his bedroom, his voice gave no hint of the revelations I’d shared with him about Nigellus’ treachery. “I take it you have a specific destination in mind?”

  Okay... so apparently we were playing it cool for now when it came to the powerful demon of fate. I could understand the logic, since we were already in trouble on multiple fronts. Nigellus, at least, didn’t want to kill either of us. Rather the opposite, in fact. He needed Rans alive, and by extension, that meant he needed me alive. Too bad none of that lessened my desire to verbally ream the backstabbing son of a bitch until his ears burned.

  “I’ll take you to a location that should be warded well enough to protect you until more permanent steps can be taken.” His eyes raked me, and I knew without having to ask that news of my fight with Myrial at the gate between Hell and Earth had reached him.

  “Hey. Don’t give me that look. Myrial attacked me first,” I said, making myself hold that piercing gaze. “She popped out of nowhere and tried to pull energy from me so I wouldn’t be able to make it through the gate.”

  As a second-generation succubus hybrid, it was far more difficult for me to pass through the barrier that separated Hell and Earth than it was for a full-blooded demon or cambion. I’d had to gorge myself on sexual energy to manage it at all, and even then it had been a struggle. I tried not to shiver in reaction as I remembered the feeling of being stuck in a wall of Silly Putty as I pushed through the invisible gate.

  Nigellus’ eyes continued to burn into me for long moments, but rather than reply directly, he only said, “Less talking. More leaving. No doubt we can discuss the details when you’re in safer surroundings.”

  Rans looked grim as he strapped his matching pair of iron swords across his back and slid into his black leather coat. For lack of any better options, I zipped up my bag of belongings and slung it over my shoulder. With luck, wherever Nigellus was about to drag us would have laundry facilities, because one of the downsides of living out of a suitcase was a severely curtailed underwear selection.

  His own bag hanging from a shoulder, Rans held a hand out to me. I took it, giving his fingers a solid squeeze. I could only imagine what he must be feeling right now—facing his friend and mentor for the first time after learning the truth, but unable to voice the knowledge. Nigellus wasted no time before grabbing each of us by the upper arms. I braced myself as reality went dark around me.

  The cool humidity of York gave way to bright light and dry heat. That blazing sun was almost directly overhead, too. It had been early evening in York; a quick round of mental math told me we must be in America somewhere, and the weather argued for the Southwest. In fact, the weather felt surprisingly familiar to me.

  “Wait. Is this California again?” I asked on a hunch.

  Nigellus let our arms drop. He turned, biting out a low curse as he wavered on his feet. I saw Rans start to raise a hand as though to steady him, only to abort the movement and clench his fist at his side.

  “It is, yes,” Nigellus confirmed, once he’d locked his knees and straightened his spine. “Questions after we’re inside, if you don’t mind.”

  Inside? I glanced around at the rural landscape, taking in dry grass and rolling hills broken by neat lines of arbors. We were somewhere in wine country, at a guess.

  “Uhh...” I began.

  “Look with your demon senses, not your eyes,” Rans said quietly, even as Nigellus strode o
ff in the direction that my mind didn’t want to pay attention to.

  I tried to cast outward with my magical core, the way I did when I was reading animus trails from a crowd. There was something there, but it wasn’t until a door opened, revealing Edward framed inside, that I registered the house standing not thirty feet away.

  “What the actual fuck?” I asked faintly, blinking at the structure’s modern, elegant lines.

  “The house is warded,” Rans said. “It’s demon magic—probably Edward’s doing. He was always a deft hand at this sort of thing.”

  I filed that away for later consideration, since I was still hung up on the whole ‘invisible house’ thing. “Right. Okay. Invisible house. No problem.”

  The demon-bound butler was gesturing us toward the door. When we were close enough, he called, “Zorah Bright... Ransley Thorpe... enter and be welcome!”

  “We’ll be able to cross the threshold now,” Rans explained.

  I nodded, traversing the stone walkway and steps that I’d somehow completely failed to notice earlier. “Hi, Edward,” I managed weakly. “Fancy meeting you here.”

  “Hello, Miss,” Edward said, his tone kind even though his expression held a hint of tension. He ushered the three of us inside and closed the door behind us, running a critical eye over Nigellus. “I did try to tell you to take a plane in one direction at least, sir.”

  The demon waved him off brusquely, but it was true this was the first time I’d ever seen Nigellus looking anything but self-possessed and debonair. He recovered himself before my eyes, though, straightening and looking down his nose at his aged servant.

  “And I reminded you that time was of the essence,” he shot back.

  It took me a minute to puzzle out the exchange, but then I remembered. “Hang on. I thought you told me demons couldn’t teleport across wide expanses of saltwater,” I said. “What... doesn’t the Atlantic Ocean qualify?”

  Nigellus spared me a glance. “I said we find it difficult. I didn’t say it was impossible. Enough of these inconsequentialities—we have important matters to discuss.”

  Edward sighed. “I’ll go make the drinks, then. Spiked or unspiked lemonade this time, Miss?”

  “Spiked,” I said, because hello. Talk about a no-brainer. “In fact, you’d better make it a double.”

  Edward gave me an ironic little nod. I tried not to worry about whether my undeniable affection for the old guy was going to end up being a problem. With luck, he was merely an innocent bystander to Nigellus’ scheming... or possibly even another victim of it. I simply couldn’t imagine him being on board with what his demon master had been doing to Rans all these years.

  Speaking of which...

  Ignoring Rans’ cautioning look, I spun to face Nigellus. Maybe I couldn’t lay into him like I wanted to, but there was one subject that wasn’t off limits.

  “All right,” I began in a hard tone. “Time for answers. What happened to ‘Hell is the safest place for you?’ Because I arranged to have my father sent there in good faith, but then I had to find out on my own that Myrial was the asshole incubus who got my grandmother pregnant? What the fuck, Nigellus?”

  “Perhaps you’d first care to tell me what, precisely, Myrial did or said that led to your... confrontation?” Nigellus asked, already back to his normal intimidating self.

  But I wasn’t having it this time. “No—enough with the deflection. How about you give a straight answer to a straight question for once? Why didn’t you warn me ahead of time about who Myrial was?”

  His expression was about as readable as the freakin’ Sphinx. “Demons hold a great many confidences, Zorah. It was hardly my place to disclose another individual’s private information—particularly regarding such a sensitive matter.”

  “So you did know about it beforehand,” I confirmed, unsurprised. “Well, thanks for nothing, in that case, because not only did I spend half my time in Hell fending Myrial off from trying to bind my father’s soul; I also nearly ended up trapped inside the gate between realms after she drained my animus. God only knows what she might try to do to Dad now that I’m not there to look after him!”

  Rather than appearing bothered by my words, Nigellus looked at me shrewdly. “One might wonder why you were in such a hurry to leave, if you were so concerned about your father’s safety in your absence.”

  I thought quickly, running through the list of people who’d known that I was planning on leaving Hell. Taking a gamble that none of them were likely to have spoken to Nigellus in the interim, I lifted my chin.

  “I wasn’t, until that crazy-ass demon attacked me,” I shot back. “I was doing exactly what I told you I’d planned on doing—seeing if I could get through under my own steam once I’d absorbed enough power. I’d come pretty close on my previous attempt, so I figured I’d try it with my bag to see if I could get inanimate objects through with me.”

  Nigellus raised a brow. “How lucky that you were also carrying salt on your person at the time.”

  Oh, right. Forgot about that part. Oops.

  I brazened it out, scoffing. “Hardly luck. I’d been keeping salt with me ever since Myrial started getting pushy with my father. I used to carry pepper spray with me when I had to walk home from the bus stop after working late shifts in St. Louis, too. What’s your point?”

  See? I was getting better at this lying thing. Maybe I’d just needed more practice.

  “We’re rather straying from the point,” Rans put in. He’d been uncharacteristically quiet up to this point, bringing home how rattled he must be by the situation. “Hell was not the safe haven it was intended to be, and now both Zorah and her father are in Myrial’s crosshairs. I assume that’s why you traveled across an ocean to whisk us away to safety in a warded house, Nigellus.”

  “And where exactly are we, anyway?” I added—pausing to take the glass Edward brought me.

  Surprisingly, he was the one to answer. “A vineyard outside Vallecito, California, Miss. It backs up to Wolf Creek.”

  “And Vallecito is...” I prompted.

  “In Calaveras County,” Edward said.

  I blinked. “Okay...” My gaze fell on Nigellus again. “Seriously? Do you have any clue how much of a pain it was for me to get to the UK in the first place? And now you’ve dragged me right back where I started from!”

  He shook his head in irritation. “Myrial—and anyone else looking for you—could have tracked you to York as easily as I did. Here, you’re protected behind the house wards until you can both be personally warded. It’s clear I may be needed in Hell soon anyway, so it seemed a logical solution... albeit a temporary one.”

  Rans let his bag fall to the floor, and waved away the drink Edward offered. “There’s evidence that Myrial may be actively attempting to shatter the Fae treaty,” he said.

  Nigellus took a glass of something amber-colored from the tray Edward was holding and threw it back in one go with an angry flick of the wrist. “Myrial’s indiscretion occurred nearly half a century ago, Ransley. She fell in love with a human, and that seldom ends well.”

  Myrial herself had tried to feed me that line once before, and it pissed me off just as much the second time around. “I think demons must have a very different definition of that word than humans do,” I bit out. “But that’s not what Rans is talking about.”

  “Myrial tracked us down at a club in St. Louis,” Rans said evenly, “and within minutes we were the victim of a coordinated attack by humans who were immune to my mesmeric influence, and also armed with silver weapons. Not salt, Nigellus... silver.”

  The demon... actually looked taken aback. It was not an expression I’d ever seen him wear before.

  “Silver?” he echoed. “How certain of that are you?”

  My temper snapped. “Considering we had to cut three silver bullets out of Rans’ back—including one that was inches from his heart—we’re pretty fucking certain.”

  Nigellus’ expression closed off. “That is... unwelcome news, if
true.”

  “Yeah?” I snapped. “Well, it wasn’t a cakewalk for us, either. An innocent woman died in that attack. And Myrial could barely be bothered to stop polishing her nails while the rest of us were fighting for our lives!”

  “You need to consider the possibility that you have a traitor within Hell’s echelons,” Rans said coldly. “Whether it’s merely one individual or a group.”

  Betrayal. There seems to be a lot of that going around these days, I thought grimly, still glaring at the demon in front of me.

  But Nigellus had already regained his usual aura of detached coolness. “I will take it under advisement, Ransley. Now, though, perhaps you should both settle in. Once you’ve done so, we can speak further in the library.”

  I chugged my spiked lemonade, wondering if I should have asked Edward to make it a triple rather than a double. Was that even a thing? I sighed, setting the glass aside on a nearby table, and followed along behind the butler, Rans at my side. Edward took us to a stylish bedroom done up in white and chrome, with accents in red, black, and dove gray. Once we were settled in, he gave us directions to the library where Nigellus would presumably be waiting for us, and left us to it.

  I dumped my luggage on a chair near the bed and turned on Rans. “I’m not letting Nigellus get you alone.”

  The look he flashed me was jaded. He lifted a finger to his lips and I frowned, the expression deepening as he said, “Now, love... no need to overreact. He might have known about Myrial being your grandfather, but it’s obvious enough that he didn’t know about the attack at the club.” As he spoke, he rummaged in the bedside table and came up with a pen and notepad.

  What? I mouthed the word at him, wondering if he suspected the room of being bugged.

  He jotted down a short note and turned it so I could see. His handwriting was atrocious, a fact I might have found funny under other circumstances. I deciphered it well enough to read, ‘Demons have excellent hearing,’ and nodded my understanding.

  ‘We need him,’ Rans wrote. I knew my scowl must look positively thunderous, but I nodded again, because he wasn’t wrong. He handed me the pen when I gestured for it.