Sweet Last Drop

by Melody Johnson

  I raised my eyebrows, reminding myself that I was here for Dominic. As his night blood, what would be considered an appropriate response? I took my time chewing and swallowing another bite of salad before answering.

  “Surely my visit isn’t unexpected, considering that Dominic is my Master.”

  Walker kicked my shin with the back of his heel. I grimaced and kicked him back this time, but he toyed with his salad, seemingly unfazed by my retaliation.

  The corner of Bex’s lip twitched as she fought not to grin. She took a sip from her glass before speaking. “Yes, I expected Lysander to respond in some way after Ian was harmed in his care.”

  Walker frowned. “In his care? I’m not—”

  “Dominic sends his deepest apologies,” I interrupted. I gritted my teeth against Walker’s heel as it slammed into the same bruised spot over my shin again. “He never intended Walker any harm. As you know, Dominic’s Leveling approaches, and Walker’s injuries were an unfortunate result of the rising civil war in the coven. I was injured that night, too, but Dominic restored order and healed us as best he could.”

  Bex swirled the liquid under her nose. The crystal from the chandelier winked in the sparkle of the glass and illuminated the liquid a brighter red. “A civil war in which two night bloods are injured doesn’t speak well of the control Lysander is maintaining within his coven.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “He maintained control of the coven just fine. As I said, they attempted an uprising, but Dominic restored order.”

  “I heard differently,” Rene said. He’d settled in the chair next to Bex after serving the salad, but he hadn’t yet touched the liquid in his own glass. “I heard that Lysander didn’t restore order to his coven. I heard that you did.”

  I braced my shin for Walker’s strike, but he didn’t kick me this time. He just stared at me, his face like granite.

  I took another bite of salad, mulling over my answer before speaking. “I did my part, but my actions are an extension of Dominic’s power. Despite what you may or may not have heard, Dominic will maintain control of his coven during the Leveling. I’ll make sure of it.”

  Walker choked on his salad.

  I patted his back. “Are you OK?”

  He glared at me and moved away from my hand.

  I sighed. This was going to be a long dinner.

  “I accept Lysander’s apology on Walker’s behalf,” Bex said. She set her glass aside on the table and stared into my eyes, her gaze unwavering. “You just recently discovered your existence as a night blood, is that right?”

  I nodded. “Until about a month ago, I didn’t even know that vampires existed, let alone that I had the potential to transform into one.”

  Bex rapped her finger on the table. “Lysander must be quite persuasive to have inspired such loyalty so quickly.”

  “He can be persuasive when he wants to be, but he learned from the beginning that I can be just as persuasive.” I smiled, and I’m sure that my smile looked as cocky as it felt. I was very proud of my abilities to entrance vampires. “My loyalty is based firmly on mutual respect, not coercion, if that’s what you’re implying.”

  Bex blinked, and I got the distinct impression that not many things took her by surprise. But I did. “I wasn’t implying anything. My apologies.”

  “Yes, you were,” Walker said snottily. He finished his salad and threw his fork on the plate with a clatter. “All you know is coercion.”

  “I have never coerced you into any decision. You might delude yourself into thinking coercion explains the demons that you have lurking inside you, but let me assure you, those demons are all your own,” Bex growled.

  The intuitive creature that he was, Rene chose that moment to stand, gather our finished salad plates, and escape back into the kitchen.

  “You’re the demon,” Walker snapped.

  Bex shook her head sadly. “When will you forgive me for Julia-Marie’s death? It was an accident.”

  “It was no accident!” Walker exploded. “You killed her!”

  “I did no such thing,” Bex said patiently. “She wasn’t strong enough to complete the transformation. I knew better than to try, but when you insisted, I couldn’t deny you. I can’t deny you anything.”

  I got the distinct impression that this was an age-old fight, so I took Rene’s cue, bit my tongue, and let it play out without my input.

  “I grieve for her, too,” Bex said softly.

  “Bullshit! You killed my parents to worm your way into my life, and you killed Julia to worm your way into my heart. You’re a monster and a murderer. You don’t know how to grieve,” Walker hissed, his voice the nastiest and rawest I’d ever heard.

  I held my breath for Bex’s reaction.

  She stared at him a long moment, took a longer sip from her wine glass, and finally, she leaned forward, her beautiful green and yellow-tinged eyes pleading. “I don’t know what I can do to show you that I never intended for any of those things to happen. I’m not to blame for the fire that killed your parents. I don’t know why Julia-Marie’s blood couldn’t sustain the transformation. I’m not responsible for the things you’ve always accused me of, and I don’t know what on earth I can do to show you that I care. Tell me what to do to rewind the damage, and I’ll do it.”

  Walker crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “You want to rewind back to when I agreed to be your night blood?”

  Bex nodded. “Of course that’s what I want. It’s what I’ve always wanted.”

  “I agreed to be your night blood to save Julia. My decision had absolutely nothing to do with you and everything to do with saving her. But you failed. I’ll never agree to be yours again,” Walker said coldly.

  Bex leaned away from the table. I waited for her to explode, transform into a gargoyle, and tear Walker’s throat out—a woman enraged—but she didn’t. She picked up her napkin, patted her lips with its corner, and stood.

  “I’d better check on Rene to see what’s holding up your dinner,” she said.

  She turned her back on the dining hall, leaving Walker and me drowning in the wake of her tense, angry silence.

  “You’ve never mentioned Julia before,” I said softly.

  “I don’t like talking about her. She uproots memories I’d rather leave buried.”

  I understood better than anyone the benefits of putting the past to rest, but I had to know. The reporter in me wouldn’t let it go, and if I was honest with myself, the woman in me wouldn’t, either. “Julia was the reason you agreed to become a vampire?”

  Walker rubbed his palms along the grooves of the table. He stretched his fingers wide over the expanse of wood, studying its texture as he spoke. “Yes. Julia-Marie Frost was my high school sweetheart. She was the love of my life, and of all the luck, she was a night blood. She understood my lifestyle. She understood me. She was the only other person I’d ever met, beside Ronnie, who could share my entire world: no lies, no betrayals, no judging.” He swallowed, but I could still hear the thickness in his voice when he added, “She was my entire world.”

  “That sounds wonderful,” I said softly, but I ached for him. I knew this story didn’t have a happy ending.

  He released the table and rubbed the corner of his temple. “She was diagnosed with leukemia shortly after our engagement party. I was devastated, but Julia—being Julia—accepted the news graciously as God’s plan.” A muscle in Walker’s jaw ticked as he spoke about God. I bit my tongue and let him continue. I had the feeling that if I commented now, he wouldn’t finish the story. “I waited as long as I could, but eventually, I couldn’t live with her suffering any longer. I brought her to Bex to transform her onto a vampire. Bex refused, claiming that Julia-Marie was too weak to complete the transformation, but I insisted. I told Bex that if she transformed Julia, I would willingly allow her to transform me, too.”

  Walker stopped speaking, and by the strain in his jaw and temple, I didn’t think he cou
ld finish even if he wanted to.

  “But when Bex drained her, Julia died,” I surmised, finishing the story for him.

  He nodded.

  “I’m so sorry, Walker.”

  “It was a long time ago, nearly ten years now.” He laughed harshly. “Although sometimes, it still feels like yesterday.”

  “Leukemia,” I said thoughtfully. “Isn’t that cancer of the bone marrow and blood?”

  Walker nodded. “Yes, it is.”

  “Maybe Bex wasn’t lying. Blood is crucial to the transformation, and if Julia had cancer of the blood….” I shrugged, at a loss for words. “Bex warned you that Julia wouldn’t survive the transformation.”

  “Bex was always jealous of Julia and me,” Walker snapped. “Bex wanted me for herself, so when she saw her opportunity to kill Julia and get her out of the picture, she took it. She’s a vampire, Cassidy. Just like all the rest, she’s a monster.”

  Bex didn’t need an opportunity to kill Julia to get her out of the picture, I thought. Julia was already dying. I opened my mouth to say as much, but Walker’s expression stopped me cold. The pain of Julia-Marie’s death was still fresh. The wound hadn’t healed over time, it had festered, and poking at it would only cause more pain. I pursed my lips and kept my thoughts to myself.

  Bex and Rene returned from the kitchen before I could think of an appropriate response to Walker’s pain and deep, seething anger. They were holding dishes of—I squinted, my brain refusing the register what I was seeing—baked macaroni and cheese and toasted chicken club melts on pretzel rolls.

  I stared at the food in front of me, stunned. “I haven’t had baked mac and cheese in forever.”

  “It’s my favorite dish,” Walker said, his voice devoid of emotion.

  “I know. That’s why I had it made,” Bex said, her voice equally hollow.

  “Thank you,” I said, genuinely surprised. It smelled like heaven. “It looks delicious.”

  “We might not eat solid food anymore, but if we hope to attract the many night bloods in town recently, we’ll need to feed them. Food is, after all, the route to everyone’s heart,” Rene quipped.

  Walker glared at him. “Keep your eyes off my night bloods.”

  “I doubt it’s my eyes you’re worried about,” Rene said, smiling wide to show off his fangs. “Can’t look anywhere these days without spotting a night blood. With this kind of spread,” he motioned to the mac and cheese, “it’s you who must worry about them keeping their eyes off me.”

  I rolled my eyes. Without a doubt, Rene was the worst comedian of us all. Walker was still glaring, so I leaned in and whispered. “He’s joking.”

  Walker looked down at me and raised an eyebrow.

  “I didn’t say he should quit his day job.”

  Rene laughed. “Too late. I quit my day job years ago. Ninety-eight years ago, to be exact.”

  I burst out laughing, realizing my mistake, and when I glanced at Walker, the edges of his pursed lips were trembling. He didn’t want to laugh. Monsters didn’t make jokes, and people who hunted monsters didn’t think they were funny. He hid his amusement behind a cough and scooped up some macaroni.

  Dinner continued with Rene’s humor lightening the air, and without further discussion on the topics of Julia-Marie, night blood loyalty, or vampire transformations, I was actually able to enjoy the fresh baked macaroni and grilled sandwiches.

  “Are you sure y’all won’t stay for dessert?” Bex asked when Rene had cleared our dinner plates. She blinked several times, and her beautiful green and yellow eyes ringed by those doe lashes were hard to resist. Physically, they were lovely, but mentally, I could feel the pull of her will shaping my tongue: I’d actually love dessert.

  The evening had progressed so well I might have accepted the offer, but if she was resorting to mental compulsion to force us to stay, I wasn’t sticking around to find out why.

  Walker spoke before I could swallow the rest of my wine. “Actually, I’d love—”

  I kicked his shin.

  “Ouch! What the—”

  I swallowed and pasted on a smile. “We would love to stay for dessert—”

  Bex smiled and half rose from her chair.

  “—but unfortunately, with a murderer on the loose, we’d better leave sooner rather than later. At the rate and viciousness of these recent attacks, the murderer will more than likely strike again tonight.”

  Bex settled back in her seat, an expression of carefully crafted understanding on her face. “Of course. It’s too bad y’all can’t stay just a bit longer.”

  Walker shook his head, frowning as if he wasn’t exactly sure what he’d been thinking a moment ago.

  I knew exactly what he’d been thinking: Bex’s thoughts, just like I had. The only difference was, when I heard her thoughts in my mind, I could differentiate them from my own.

  I folded my napkin from my lap and set it on the table. “Thank you for dinner. The food, as well as the company,” I grinned at Rene, “was lovely.”

  “Y’all are very welcome,” Bex said, nodding graciously.

  I pushed my chair back from the table.

  “Before you go, however, I do have one item of business I’d like to discuss.”

  I raised my eyebrows in question, but my gut sank. Get out, get out, get out, it screamed. A small, hopeful fraction of my heart hoped it was overreacting, but the few times I hadn’t listened to my gut, I’d regretted it.

  “Business?” Walker asked.

  Bex nodded. Her expression looked contrite, but the gleam in her eyes said otherwise. “I believe I invited three of you to dinner, but here you are, just the two of you.” Bex looked between us, her expression still carefully crafted, but the crease between her eyebrows and the little frown tugging at her lips was all an act. She was relishing this moment.

  Walker stiffened next to me.

  “Where’s Veronica?” Bex asked, and her voice was nothing but sweet curiosity.

  I glanced at Walker from beneath my lashes.

  “She had a long day and didn’t feel well,” Walker said succinctly.

  Bex wiped her mouth with the corner of her napkin and placed it on the table in front of her. “It would have been nice to hear that from Veronica herself. Honestly, it feels as if she purposefully rebuked my invitation.”

  “She sends her sincerest apologies,” Walker said, but his voice sounded anything but sincere. Coming from his lips, even with his charming country twang, the words were flat and fraud.

  “And yet, you didn’t bother to apologize on her behalf until I broached the subject.” Bex clucked her tongue in a succession of tsk-tsks that somehow shot from her mouth and whipped through the air like slaps. I physically felt their sting from across the table.

  “You’re lucky we even—”

  “We’re sorry that we forgot to mention how poorly Ronnie felt earlier in the evening.” I interrupted. I wasn’t sure where Walker was leading with that intro, but it hadn’t started well. I doubted it was going to end any better. “It wasn’t our intention to offend you. When we tell her about that mac and cheese, she’ll doubly regret not being able to attend tonight.” I stood.

  Walker followed my lead. He pushed back from his chair and stood as well.

  “Ian Walker. Cassidy DiRocco,” Bex commanded.

  She looked at both of us as she said our names in turn. I knew that tone. Dominic used that tone on me when we’d first met, and I used it every time I was about to entrance a vampire. I envisioned a mirror between the two of us, a giant mirror with a fortified, silver gilt frame surrounding my entire mind. Nothing, not her words or her will, was getting through my mental barriers.

  “Sit down,” Bex commanded. “Now.”

  Walker sat instantly.

  I felt the pound and rumble of her command hit my mental barriers like thunder. They shook from the power behind her words, but they didn’t break. Her command reflected off the mirror a
nd hit her. She was already sitting, so Walker couldn’t tell that her command had reflected. He only saw that I didn’t sit, and by the swift swivel of his head and the blazing look in his eyes, he was astounded by that alone. But I could tell. Bex’s eyes widened in fear and anger, which I expected, but they also widened with something I’d hesitate to define. I wanted to name it “recognition,” but that didn’t make any sense.

  Rene whistled. “Your Master must simultaneously worship and rue the day he met you.”

  “Is this a game?” I asked darkly, ignoring Rene. “Dinner went so well. I was looking forward to relaying a favorable report to Dominic. But not anymore. What business is it of yours to force us to stay?”

  Bex pursed her lips tightly, but she nodded. “Understood. Please, sit. My business is not with you.”

  I hesitated. I didn’t like the way she’d worded that last sentence. It didn’t bode well for whomever she did have business with, but at least she hadn’t commanded me to sit this time.

  I sat.

  Bex locked eyes with Walker. “When was the last time Veronica left your house?”

  Walker frowned. “It’s not safe outside the house after sunset. I wouldn’t want her—”

  “I’m not talking about after dark,” Bex dismissed. “In general, when was the last time she stepped foot outside your house?”

  I glanced at Walker, my eyebrows raised.

  Walker crossed his arms. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Let me enlighten you. Veronica hasn’t left your house after dark since y’alls parents died, but she hasn’t stepped one foot outside your house at all in the past five years.”

  Walker opened his mouth, but whatever he’d been about to say, he thought better of it. I could almost see him thinking, backtracking through their shared history, and from his weathered expression, he concluded that Bex was right.

  “Your point?” Walker asked tightly.

  “No matter if Veronica felt well or not, she wouldn’t have joined me for dinner.”

  “If Ronnie doesn’t want to leave the house, that’s her business,” Walker said. “I don’t make her daily routine my concern.”