I clutched his hand. “Dad, no! I love you, don’t do this—”
Nigellus knelt across from me. “It’s done. Be at peace, Darryl Bright. All will be well now.”
The hand I was holding curled convulsively in my grip and went limp. My father’s eyes slid closed as Edward placed a comforting hand on his forehead. His stuttering heartbeat stilled. A slow breath trickled from his lungs, and he did not inhale again.
In the distance, the sirens wailed, growing gradually closer.
SIXTEEN
I COLLAPSED BACKWARD onto my ass as though my strings had been cut, unable to accept that my father could just be... gone—his soul reaped by the demon crouched across from me. “No,” I murmured, my head shaking back and forth slowly in negation. “No, I... no.”
Nigellus breathed in slowly, his eyes closed like someone testing the bouquet of a fine vintage at a wine tasting. The sound of the chainsaw rattled into silence. Edward met my gaze, two tears spilling over to run in zigzag trails down his deeply wrinkled face.
“I’m so terribly sorry, Miss,” he said, his voice laced with that devastating kindness, which had so disarmed me when we first met.
I gulped in air, only to choke on it—an awful, ridiculous noise. Everything inside me felt like it was on the verge of flying apart, even as I grasped at the broken pieces. My mind was an engine revving too fast for too long, until it threatened to shatter, the pieces exploding in all directions.
Nigellus’ dark gaze fell on me like a heavy weight. Then it moved to take in the details of the chaotic scene around us. “We must hurry now,” he said, as calmly as though people weren’t running around stuffing dismembered body parts into bags of salt... as though Rans wasn’t lying still and pale on the ground a few steps away... as though my father wasn’t dead—
“Miss...” Edward said again. He slowly eased Dad’s body to lie flat on the ground.
A bloody hand closed on my shoulder. I twisted away from it with a startled gasp before registering that it belonged to Guthrie. He looked down at me with concern that I couldn’t accept or deal with.
I was in the middle of an eight-acre clearing, but invisible walls were threatening to crush me as they closed in. “Don’t,” I croaked, crab-crawling backward.
The expression of worry on Guthrie’s face grew deeper. He looked positively haggard after the night’s events. I wondered if I looked the same, or even worse. Nigellus had risen to his feet when it became clear that I wasn’t going to start screaming hysterically, or attack him, or whatever it was he’d been worried I might do.
I watched blankly as the demon crouched next to Rans’ body. He brushed fingertips over the places where Caspian’s silver bullets had torn into him, then placed his hand flat over the wound left by Myrial’s silver blade. It was only when Rans sucked in a surprised breath and lurched into a sitting position that my thoughts snapped back into some kind of coherence.
“Zorah,” he gasped hoarsely, as Nigellus steadied him by the shoulder. His eyes glowed blue and frantic as he searched the darkness. “Where—”
I crawled across the short distance separating us on my hands and knees. Nigellus faded back at my approach.
“Rans,” I said in a broken voice, and flung myself into his arms. He clutched at me, and I clutched him back, my head buried against his shoulder.
“Oh, Zorah, love,” he breathed against my hair, the words hitching unevenly.
I burst into uncontrolled sobs, my fingers grasping desperate handfuls of his shirt. His arms tightened around me until it was nearly painful, one hand sliding up to bury itself in my escaped curls, holding me in place against him. He murmured soothing words—not anything stupid or untrue like it’s okay, or everything will be all right—just my name, over and over, and I’m here, I love you, I’m here now.
I had no idea how much time passed like that, before someone knelt beside us and rested a hand on my back. I opened my eyes, blinking through the rusty veil of a vampire’s bloody tears to find Guthrie there.
“We have to leave now,” he said quietly. “Let me help you two get to the van.”
The sirens were all around us now, and flashlight beams crisscrossed the woods. I wasn’t sure if my legs were answering calls from my brain after everything that had happened, but when Guthrie hefted me to my feet, they held. He slung one of Rans’ arms around his shoulders, and I clung to Rans’ other arm as though he might disappear if I wasn’t touching him.
Two police officers appeared from the cover of the woods as we were climbing into the van, their service weapons drawn and their flashlights pointing at us. One of the beams wavered crazily across my face, half-blinding me.
“Freeze!” one of them barked. “Let’s see those hands!”
Guthrie’s eyes flared. “We’re not here. Forget you saw us. You didn’t find anything out of the ordinary in this area.”
The weapons and flashlights sagged as the officers’ expressions went slack.
“Go away now,” Guthrie added. “Search the park east of here.”
The pair stumbled off in a daze.
Rans and I ended up in the van’s front passenger seat, with me curled awkwardly in his lap. I didn’t protest the position—for one thing, the vehicle was ridiculously crowded with the six of us, and for another, it allowed me to bury my face against his chest and avoid looking at the silent, sheet-wrapped shape in the back of the van.
Guthrie had to mesmerize three more sets of cops before we finally escaped the boundaries of Forest Park. Once on the main roads, he drove toward the abandoned factory near the river where the next steps in the plan would take place. Honestly, I didn’t give a flying fuck about the plan right now... even though I probably should have. All I could do was cling to Rans and try not to think about anything except his presence. He rubbed a hand slowly between my shoulder blades, even though he had no way of knowing even half of what was going on.
The others were talking. I was far enough gone, mentally speaking, that it wasn’t difficult to let the conversation float past without really hearing it. At one point, Rans tensed, his arms tightening. From that, I gathered that someone was filling him in on what had happened after Myrial stabbed him through the heart. When he went very, very still a few moments later, I could guess that the conversational topic had turned to his unexpected recovery from a fatal wound—but that didn’t mean I was remotely ready to face any of it yet.
Unfortunately, I didn’t have a lot of choice in the matter once the van pulled into the echoing brick and steel building that had once housed a shoe factory. Half the windows in the place were broken. Of those, fewer than a third had been properly boarded up. But... the place was private. It was somewhere no one would notice the flare of Fae portals opening and closing, with the possible exception of a crackhead or two who wouldn’t be believed anyway.
Guthrie parked the vehicle and turned the engine off. Silence echoed, both inside and outside. Not even the flutter of a bird’s wings or the chirp of insects lightened the oppressive atmosphere. I peeked out from my hiding place against Rans’ shoulder. My eyes caught on that ominous sheet-wrapped form in the back of the van, and I abruptly squeezed them closed again.
Albigard was the one to break the tense atmosphere. “I will begin transporting the remains to the more distant locations.” He levered himself up from the second-row passenger bench, bending his tall frame awkwardly to keep from bumping his head.
“Are you strong enough to do so?” That was Nigellus.
Reality started to force its way past my protective layer of shock, as the magnitude of everything that still needed to be done hit me. I opened my eyes again, keeping them firmly away from the contents of the cargo area.
“Travel by ley line requires little energy,” Albigard was saying. “A single portal leading from here to the nearest one will suffice. I can hold it open long enough for us to throw the bags through, and then take the pieces to their final destinations one at a time.”
Guthrie
stirred in the driver’s seat. I caught him gazing at me with an expression of worry in his dark eyes before he quickly looked away, caught out. “I can go with you, and keep an eye on the bags while you’re off transporting them individually.”
Albigard gave a brusque nod. Guthrie opened his door and got out, the Fae following him. A moment later, I hear the rear doors creak open. The van shifted slightly on its suspension as the pair started unloading the bags with their grisly, salt-encased contents hidden inside.
Nigellus half-rose, then paused. The demon looked pale. Washed out. Almost translucent under the van’s sickly yellow dome light.
“Once they’re gone, I’ll begin transporting the parts of Myrial that will be remaining here on the American continent,” he said.
Alarm fluttered through me, and my gaze narrowed.
“We’ll begin transporting them, you mean,” Edward shot back. “The last thing you need right now is a salt bag splitting open while you’re dragging it around.” He eyed the demon with a frown. “Speaking of which, are you strong enough for this yet?”
“Of course I am, Edward. Don’t be ridiculous.” The words sounded infinitely tired.
I straightened, dragged abruptly back to the here-and-now whether I was ready to face it or not. “Hang on a second. Why should we trust you to hide... parts of Myrial?” I asked, aiming for belligerence and barely achieving petulance. “What’s to keep you from deciding in a decade or ten that it’s in your best interest to switch loyalties and retrieve her so she can be revived?”
Behind me, Rans kept a wary eye on the confrontation, but didn’t add anything to it. Nigellus pinned me with those ageless eyes, and I fought not to quail beneath the power contained in that gaze, even while he was weakened.
“Firstly,” he said in a cold tone, “I believe that my ability to keep a secret has been amply proven this night. After all, I’ve been keeping secrets since before humanity started walking upright. Secondly, given the position in which your Fae ally has just placed himself, you’d do better to be concerned about his shifting loyalties. However, since I have no knowledge of the places he intends to hide the remains, and he has no knowledge of the places I intend to use, your concerns have little basis in reality.”
“Just go, Nigellus,” Rans said tiredly.
The demon’s piercing gaze moved to him. “I will return to Mr. Leonides’ residence afterward. And we will talk.”
Rans made a weary gesture with one hand. “Yes. No doubt we will.”
Edward shot both of us unhappy looks, but he clambered out of the van on creaking joints, joining the demon. With the last of the bags unloaded, the van doors slammed shut a couple of minutes later. Rans and I were alone, with only that ominous sheet-wrapped bundle for company. I lowered myself to sit sideways in the driver’s seat across from him with my elbows on my knees, my face resting in my hands.
“I’m so sorry, Zorah,” Rans said softly.
I poked at my feelings, realizing with relief that numbness was finally beginning to set in properly—because I seriously needed a bit of numbness right now. Scrubbing at my eyes, I sat upright to look at the man I loved—alive and miraculously unharmed.
Miraculously.
Ha.
“This doesn’t feel like winning,” I said hoarsely.
“No,” he agreed.
“What are we supposed to do now?” I asked, feeling empty inside.
Rans’ eyes slid back to the corpse lying on the floor of the van. I didn’t follow his gaze.
“Will you let me take care of this for you?” he asked.
I looked at him blankly. “Take care of—?”
He gave me such a look of compassion that I had to turn away, gazing through the windshield without registering the empty building beyond.
“I could take your father’s body to one of the hospitals,” he explained gently. “Ensure his death is treated as natural, so you can claim his remains for a funeral.”
I blinked several times. If I said no, I’d have to think more about what to do instead. A brief, nightmarish vision flashed through my mind of sneaking around St. Louis with my Dad’s corpse, trying to bury him in secret.
“Okay,” I said, my voice emerging faint and raspy.
He nodded. “As soon as Guthrie gets back, I’ll drop you both at the penthouse and take the van. You can wait for me at his place.”
Part of me wanted to argue—I wasn’t sure I could bear to let Rans out of my sight yet. A larger, more selfish part was desperate to get away from the makeshift shroud with the scent of human blood clinging to it. That blood felt like a silent accusation.
I’d been too slow.
Not good enough—just like always.
I couldn’t save him.
My throat tightened. “Okay,” I said again, my traitorous voice breaking on the word.
Rans leaned across the gap between the seats and grasped my hands in his. I leaned forward as well, until our foreheads rested together. We stayed that way until a flash of magic outside heralded Guthrie and Albigard’s return from their gruesome errand.
* * *
Later, the six of us gathered in Guthrie’s extravagant apartment. The sun was up. Normally after a night like the one I’d been through, I would have been sleeping like the undead. Right now, though, the draining effect of daylight on a new vampire just sort of blended in with the general sense of horribleness hanging over me like an aura.
Guthrie was in the same boat I was, but I got the impression his continued wakefulness had more to do with post-battle jitters than mine did. As soon I could feel anything that wasn’t heaviness, I’d make a point of being happy for him, or at least relieved. He was, to all appearances, free of Myrial’s shadow for the time being. She hadn’t reaped his soul to gain power on the cusp of her defeat, and now she was—according to Nigellus—in a form of stasis until enough of her salt-encased, hacked up body parts managed to find their way back to each other to make her existence viable.
I didn’t know where Nigellus had stashed the pieces he’d taken, but Albigard had hidden several of them in abandoned salt mines around the world. Each of them had taken half of her skull and brain, further complicating Myrial’s predicament. There was no way of knowing exactly how long the ploy would be effective, but unless someone intervened to retrieve her various pieces, it was likely to take decades at the very least.
I wanted to feel more relieved by that prospect than I did.
Since his return with Guthrie, Albigard had been lurking in the background of the discussion like a shadow. He had been seriously drained during the battle—both physically and magically. As had Nigellus.
Thinking about the renegade Fae and what he’d done for us, I realized that I’d overlooked something rather important during the aftermath of the fight. With a frown, I asked, “Wait. What happened to Caspian and Reefe’s bodies? Surely you didn’t just leave them there?”
“They were magically incinerated,” Edward said. With no humans around for him to fuss over or fetch drinks for, he was seated in one of Guthrie’s armchairs, his gnarled hands clasped loosely between his knees.
I thought of Caspian, the twisted Unseelie traitor who’d pursued me halfway across the globe... and of Reefe, the torturer whose heart I’d personally shredded with an iron blade. Again, I felt like I should be having more of a reaction to their deaths than I was.
“Good,” was all I said.
Albigard pushed away from the wall he’d been leaning against. There was a haunted look behind his green gaze; his normal haughtiness somehow diminished.
“I must leave now,” he said. “I will be marked by the Fae, once they discover I’ve killed a member of the Unseelie Court.”
My brows drew together. “Caspian was a back-stabbing double dealer. And besides, if there’s no body, how can they possibly find out what happened?”
He gave me a flat look. “Once he is missed, they will assume I was involved and question me. And I will tell them the truth.”<
br />
I still didn’t really understand the parameters of the whole ‘Fae can’t lie’ thing. “That’s... really fucked up,” I said. “You helped save the treaty. You stopped a war. Shouldn’t that be worth something?”
He lifted one shoulder in a small shrug. “I didn’t kill him to save the treaty. I killed him to avenge my brother and sister.”
I swallowed back a fresh surge of tightness in my throat at his mention of family.
Guthrie had been watching the exchange with interest. “Oh? What did he do to them, exactly?”
Albigard’s expression went flinty. “My siblings were powerful adepts—members of a flight of warriors under his command at the end of the last war. They were twins, which is rare among the Fae. Caspian ordered them to Earth to deploy a newly developed weapon.”
Rans tensed beside me. Albigard’s eyes fell on him.
“However, he conveniently failed to mention that the weapon would burn out their magic and kill them the moment they activated it,” he continued. “Or that it would wipe out an ancient and powerful race in a single stroke.”
Their gazes locked, ice blue and forest green—unblinking.
After a long moment, Rans broke eye contact, gazing through the window that looked out across St. Louis instead.
“They’ll send the Wild Hunt after you,” he said quietly.
“Perhaps,” Albigard replied.
I didn’t really understand the exchange, but something about it still sent a shiver along my spine despite the muffling layer of numbness surrounding me.
“If we can help, let us know,” I said.
He arched an eyebrow. “Doubtful.”
“Right... there you go hurting my feelings again, Tinkerbell,” I managed, aware of how flat the quip fell.
“You seem to be surprisingly resilient for a mongrel, demonkin,” he replied, in the same vein. “I daresay you’ll survive the experience.”
With that, he sent a final look around the room, his gaze lingering for a moment on Nigellus, who tipped his chin in acknowledgement. Then, the Fae turned and left, the front door of the penthouse opening and closing behind him a moment later.
The Last Vampire- Complete series Box Set Page 98
