“Smart girl. Lie down on your back right next to my foot, hands behind your head. If any of you move, I’ll run her through. That’s all it takes to kill a Dhampir.”
“Truly, it’s okay,” she said, hoping the others would realize she had a plan. “Everyone do as he asks.” She lay on her back on the floor.
Fydor, in a smooth maneuver, stepped back, lowered his sword, and shoved Nik with his foot on the backside. He then stood over Elena, foot on either side of her thighs, sword tip at her throat. Nik, with his injured leg, lost his balance and fell forward.
Man, oh, man, she hoped that elixir to restore her powers was working or this was a really bad plan. A look of pain crossed Fydor’s face. He shook his head and held the sword steady. “Kill the spell, Uzana, or I kill her.”
“Nope. Sorry. No can do, dude,” Aunt Uza said from near the door. “Roaches check in, but they don’t check out.”
“Let him go! He’s not worth it,” Nik said, struggling to his feet, blood coating his thigh.
“Sorry, hottie. Gotta think of the greater good and all.”
Fydor dragged the tip of the sword from her throat down between her breasts in a stinging trail of fire. “I can make her death slow and painful.”
“No!” Nik shouted, shuffling closer.
“Move and I kill her, nephew.” His gaze drifted down her body. She could feel the cool air over her belly button. Her shirt must have ridden up. He lifted the bottom edge with the tip of the sword and nudged the leather up. “What’s this?” He blinked hard and made another grimace. “What the fuck is it!” he shouted. “Answer me, Uzana, or I’m slicing her open.”
“Go right ahead.”
Elena couldn’t believe her reaction. What was she about?
“Folder. You can read this shit. What does it say?”
Stefan didn’t answer.
“I know Time Folders can’t lie. Tell me or I’ll choke her with her own intestines.”
“It’s another prophecy.”
Clutching his stomach, he winced. Elena’s breath caught. Maybe he had drunk the poison, and this would work after all. She bit her lip and tested her power. Still, only a vague buzzing. Shit. Relax. Will your power to increase.
He straightened and held the sword hilt above his head, point down, just as her death angel had done in the convenience store, only this time, she didn’t welcome death. Not at all. She had way too much to live for.
“Tell me what it says, Time Folder.”
“It says she’s carrying a baby that will be the bridge between worlds.”
“Not a chance in hell will I let that happen.”
Just as it had when she battled the shifters in Uza’s yard, things seemed to move in slow motion. It started with a guttural yell from Fydor, followed by a battle cry from Nik who lunged right as Fydor plunged the sword toward her abdomen. Before the tip came within range, Elena envisioned herself standing behind Fydor. She’d picked a close distance, hoping she had enough juice. Right as she felt the blade touch her skin, her body buzzed and reconfigured exactly where she’d envisioned it, just in time to see Nik take Fydor to the ground.
It had worked!
Nik wrestled the sword out of Fydor’s hand, both men gasping in pain. Nik struggled to his feet and swung the sword up in position to decapitate his uncle.
“No!” Elena shouted. He froze. “Please.” After long moments, in which she knew he fought a vigorous internal battle with his Slayer nature, he lowered the sword.
She looked around the room at the horrified faces. Well, all except for one. Uza was grinning ear to ear, stroking her purring mu-mu.
Fydor groaned again and convulsed.
Fee’s shoulders lowered, and she took a deep breath, relief clear on her face. Aleksi, too, relaxed a bit, brow arched as she watched in fascination.
Gasping, Fydor rolled to his side in a ball. “Tatiana, help me,” he groaned.
“I’ll help you like you helped my husband.” She crossed her arms over her chest, face expressionless, and stood still.
It didn’t take long after that for him to die. Elena had a suspicion it happened far too fast for Aleksi and Tatiana, who had suffered at his hands for years. Once he stopped convulsing, no one moved for a while.
Nik took a step back and slid his father’s sword into the sheath on his back, and then his eyes met hers. Her heart soared as they stared at each other, and everything else seemed to fade away. He held out his arms, and she ran to him, loving the feel of being folded against him. “It’s over,” she said. He pulled her even tighter and kissed the top of her head.
“Not quite.” Tatiana calmly felt for Fydor’s pulse. Then she picked up the crown, strode to the door, opened it, and entered the great hall.
Nik wasn’t bleeding anymore, but he had a slight limp still. His leg would heal. So would the cut on her chest. Unwilling to let each other go, they held hands as they followed his mother.
“Fydor Itzov is dead,” she shouted. The room fell silent, and all turned to look at the queen. From the looks of it, the battle had all but ended.
“All hail King Nikolai,” she said, holding the crown high over her head.
“All hail King Nikolai,” an exuberant chorus of voices responded from all around the room as Tatiana placed the crown on her son’s head.
“Eternal life to the Uniter. Bringer of peace. Protector of the bridge,” Vlad shouted from the back of the room, bloody dagger held high.
“Eternal life!” the crowd repeated.
“Well, my work here is done,” Uza said from behind them. “Getting you two together was slower than molasses in January. Don’t screw it up.” She disappeared with a pop.
“And now your work really begins, sweet girl,” Stefan whispered in her ear. “Good luck keeping him in line.”
Ricardo’s red eyes met hers from several yards away. “I wish you good choices, Elena Arcos.”
She grinned up at Nik, whose bruised, bloody face was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. “Loving you was the best choice I ever made.”
He put his lips against her ear. “That was not a choice. That was inevitable. I’m irresistible.”
He was. And as soon as they were alone, she’d show him just how irresistible she found him. Every part of him.
He placed his palm over her belly. “I love you, Elena Arcos.”
“Love is a myth, remember? Slayers don’t love.”
“This one does.”
Epilogue
“Leather. No respectable Slayer nursery is decorated any other way. It has to be done in black leather,” Aleksi said.
“I guess this room will just not be respectable, then.” Elena held up two wallpaper samples. “Planes or puppies?”
Aleksi groaned and plopped down in the rocking chair sent as a gift from the bird shifters. It was striking and ornate with carved raptor talons gripping the rocker rails.
“He’s only half Slayer. The other half is vampire and human with some seer thrown in.”
“Puppies, since he’ll be a mutt.”
Elena ran her hands over her abdomen. She wasn’t showing yet, but the day before he returned home, Stefan flew a doctor in from Belfast with a portable ultrasound, and they now knew for certain it was a boy. She was pretty sure she could have just asked Aunt Uza to get that information, but nobody had heard from her or Borya since the day of the battle.
Children’s laughter rang out in the hallway as Claude’s kids pushed each other in a wagon, pretending it was a human car. Mihai had stepped down as Commander of the Elite Force, and Claude had taken his place, moving into the fortress with his family. A happy squeal was followed by giggles.
“Thank you,” Aleksi said. “You did this.”
She closed the wallpaper book. “What?”
“This.” She gestured to the door. “Laughter. There hasn’t been laughter in this building in twenty years. Now it’s everywhere. Niki laughs all the time. So does my mother.”
“What about
you?”
She smiled. “Yeah, me too.” She sighed. “You’ve brought love here. We always had it, but we covered it, like we cover our fear.”
“Love should never be covered up or hidden. It should be used and savored and screamed from the rooftops.”
“Kinda like you screamed last night?” She winked.
Heat raced up Elena’s neck and over her face. Their bedroom was all the way at the end of the hallway, for goodness sake. She picked up a teddy bear Ricardo had sent when he got back to the States and pitched it at Aleksi’s head. Nik had made her scream all right. More than once.
Her body hummed all over at the memory. Time for a change of topic. “We’re going to name the baby Ivan Gregor Itzov, after both of our fathers.”
“I think that’s a fantastic idea.”
“It was Vladimir Dalca’s idea.”
“Mmm. Vlad.” She ran her fingers over the teddy bear’s ears. “Too bad he’s a vamp.”
“Yeah, too bad.” Elena grinned and went in search of Nik. It wasn’t much of a search, actually; she knew exactly where he’d be: the rec room. Which was now truly a rec room, complete with wet bar, huge flat-screen TV, multiple game consoles, and oversize—or Slayer-sized—comfy leather sofas. And at that moment, her oversize Slayer was snoozing on one of those sofas with a rugby match playing on the television. She picked up the remote from his chest and switched it off.
“I was watching that,” he said, not even bothering to open his eyes.
“Ah, men and their sports,” she said, climbing over his body to straddle him. That got him to open his eyes…and grin. “I have a sport in mind. It involves a lot of practice.” She leaned down and kissed him.
He put his hands on her thighs. “I hope it’s a contact sport.”
“It is.” When she reached over to put the remote on the coffee table, two wrapped packages caught her eye. “What are the boxes for?”
“For you.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” He wrapped his hands around her backside. “But what about our sport?”
“Well, we’re taking a brief time-out.” She turned the smaller of the two boxes over in her hands, but found no card. It was wrapped in shiny gold paper. He released her backside and rubbed his hands up and down her thighs, gorgeous smile on his face. She swatted his hand. “You’re distracting me.”
“You don’t say.” He put his hands behind his head, soft T-shirt stretching over his muscled chest and upper arms.
She slid her fingers under the wrapping paper, revealing a velvet box. A ring box. Her gaze shot to his, and his smile broadened. Heart fluttering, she opened the box and gasped. It was a ring with a blood-red stone surrounded by diamonds.
“The ruby was your father’s. He wore it in a pinky ring Vlad collected when he retrieved my father’s sword. I had it reset,” he said. “I had wanted to give it to you on the day we married, but it took much longer than expected.”
She looked down at her plain gold band he’d given her at their wedding. “This works fine.”
He took the ring out of the box and slipped it on above the gold band. “Yes, but this one suits a queen. And the mother of my child. And the love of my life.”
Wow, how far they’d come since that day in the convenience store. Nothing on earth would tempt her to go back to her old human life.
“Thank you. It’s amazing.” She picked up the other box, wrapped in plain brown paper. “What’s this one?”
He propped up on his elbows. “I assume it’s from your Aunt Uza because it was addressed to Queen Ellie Baby’s Baby care of King Hottie-Totty.”
“Well, that certainly narrows the possibilities.” She tore the paper and read a note scrawled on the lid. “I made these myself. Nimble fingers/nimble mind, as they say.” She lifted the top and peeked in. “It appears she’s taken up knitting?” She pulled out two booties of entirely different sizes made out of the oddest yarn. It was soft, but uneven… Surely not. She turned one over in her hand and…
“Cat hair!” she and Nik said simultaneously. She busted out giggling as he grabbed the booties, box, and wrapper and tossed them over his head.
Then he rolled her under him. “Time-out is over.”
“Yeah?” Her voice was breathier than she’d expected. “I’m thinking this game might go into overtime if you’re lucky.”
“Baby, count on it. I’m the luckiest man alive.”
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Acknowledgments
Getting Love Me to Death to this point has been an absolute delight, thanks primarily to the team at Entangled, especially Liz Pelletier, who believed in this book from the start.
Huge hugs to the whole gang in Camp Clarke for cheering me on and getting the word out, especially Shawna, Lucy, Nicole, Mariela, Tabatha, and Allison. Pass the marshmallows!
Love to Patrick McDonald at QueryTracker for always listening and making those website changes with a moment’s notice.
And of course, I would not be able to finish a page without the support from my amazing husband, Laine.
About the Author
Marissa Clarke lives in Texas, where everything is bigger, especially the mosquitoes. When not writing, she wrangles her rowdy pack of three teens, husband, and a Cairn Terrier named Annabel, who rules the house (and Marissa’s heart) with an iron paw. Marissa Clarke is a pseudonym. Her real name is Mary Lindsey and she also writes young adult novels for Penguin USA.
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