"Ah, lovely, the Tsarevich has arrived," Salerno said, moving next to her and cocking the pistol against her temple. "Stop where you are, if you please."
Sasha's nostrils flared and his amber eyes flashed with rage at Salerno's actions. He stopped a few lengths from them, his body tense. "I'm here. Let her go, you bastard."
Salerno laughed and signaled in Theodora's direction. The vampire had moved to the helm, and on Salerno's orders began to start the engines of the airship. Aline's stomach bottomed out with dread. If they managed to take to the skies, their chances of rescue were reduced to nil.
"Not yet, Tsarevich. She remains to ensure your cooperation through the procedure."
Sasha pounded his heart with his fist. "You can take the bloody thing, just let her go!" he cried.
"It doesn't work like that, I'm afraid," Salerno said as the motors whirred into life and the airship began to lurch upwards.
"He's going to kill me anyway, Sasha!" she cried out over the engine's roar. "Don't give him your heart!"
Salerno cuffed her on the temple with the pistol to shut her up, and her vision swam. She heard Sasha's anguished cry.
When the dizziness passed, she saw that Sasha had fallen to his knees and held a dagger to his own throat. She cried out in dismay. "Sasha, no!"
He looked at her with desperation and terror, shaking his head. His eyes were filled with unshed tears and fierce resolve. He was prepared to sacrifice himself. "If you spare her life and let her go now, I shall do it myself!" he cried.
Salerno laughed. "Such enthusiasm! Unfortunately, I cannot accept your generous offer. You must be alive for the procedure to work. Otherwise, the device will die with you. Throw aside your weapon, Tsarevich."
Sasha reluctantly cast the dagger away. "I'll do anything you want, just don't hurt her," he said.
Salerno gestured for him to move towards Dr. Hendrix's table. "This will not take long. Cooperate and I will set her free afterwards."
"Don’t believe him, Sasha!" she shouted, struggling against her bonds as the nausea rose in her. Judging from the state of her stomach, they were entirely airborne. Of all the times to get airsick! But her illness gave her a sudden inspiration to get free of her bonds. "Let me go!" she cried.
"Shut up, you bitch," Salerno muttered, pressing the pistol hard against her skin.
"I'm going to vomit," she retorted, bile rising in her throat. "I get airsick, remember?" She didn’t know what she’d do when she was free, but anything was better than remaining bound and helpless. She pretended to convulse, as if about to vomit on Salerno's boots.
Salerno cursed and jerked back.
"Let me loose," she said, "unless you want me to vomit all over you. What am I going to do? Where am I going to go? We're in the sky, Charlie."
He growled at her. "That's not my name."
She convulsed again, but Salerno pulled her upright. She felt the ropes come loose behind her, and then he was shoving her towards the side of the airship. This time, she really was sick over the railing.
When she finished, Salerno was eyeing her with disgust. Which was a good thing, since he was distracted from the dirigible coming up behind them. She'd noticed it over the side of the railing when she was casting up her accounts, and for the first time all night, she felt a glimmer of hope. She'd recognized Fyodor's familiar bulk on the foredeck of the approaching ship.
"Are you through?" Salerno bit out.
"For now," she said, clutching her stomach. She glanced at Sasha. He was sitting on the edge of Dr. Hendrix's table, watching them. Dr. Hendrix hovered at his side, looking a little green about the gills himself and uncertain what to do next.
"Well, get on with it!" Salerno demanded, jerking Aline forwards so he'd have a better view of the proceedings. They stopped near a hatch leading into the bowels of the airship, and he pressed her into the rusty hinges on the edge of the door to keep her still.
If Fyodor and the others planned on stopping this, they'd better arrive soon. The only thing she could do was buy as much time as possible.
"Dr. Hendrix," she cried, "are you really prepared to do this?"
The doctor ignored her, and Salerno laughed. "It's not his first time, my dear Miss Finch. He's been practicing his technique. Playing upon his conscience is useless."
This time, Aline's nausea wasn't caused by the lurching airship. "The lot of you are mad," she cried. "Sasha, don't do this! He'll kill me. He'll let Theodora drink me dry when he has what he wants."
"He has a gun to your head, milaya. What else can I do?"
She suspected he knew help was on the way and was playing along until it arrived, but she could tell by the bleak, determined look in his eyes that he was prepared to play along to the bitter end. Even if it meant lying there while Dr. Hendrix ripped his heart out of his chest, he'd do it. Noble, foolish man.
"Not this," she cried, her own heart breaking, "please don't do this, Sasha. Not for me!"
"I'd do anything for you, Aline," he said with a bittersweet twist of his lips, undoing the buttons of his shirt and pulling it apart, revealing the hard ridges of his chest and abdomen, and the long scar over his heart.
"How touching," Salerno sneered. "We'll see how strong your love is when Dr. Hendrix has his knife in you. Strap him down, my love," Salerno commanded, and Theodora flashed to Sasha's side. She took his hand and began to clamp the crudely-made iron restraint dangling off the table around his wrist. The vampire moved with such inhuman speed she'd quickly secured it and moved to the other wrist. But not before casting another hungry glance in Aline's direction.
Suddenly, Aline knew what she had to do, before Theodora could restrain Sasha further. It was a risk, but it was her only option. She'd do anything, anything, rather than witness Sasha's execution.
Salerno didn't even notice what she was doing until it was too late. She jabbed her arm against the jagged edge of the hatch's hinge and jerked it down, ripping her flesh open. Blood gushed from the wound, running down her arm and dripping onto the deck.
Theodora's body stiffened, her head jerking up from her task. Her nostrils flared, scenting the blood, and her fangs popped out as her eyes began to glow yellow. She held herself back for only a second, then, as if she couldn’t help herself, she flashed in Aline's direction, knocking Salerno aside and grabbing Aline by the neck.
In the next second, Theodora's fangs were embedded in her throat. The last thing she saw was Sasha running towards her with a horrified expression on his face. Then everything went black.
THE vampire was so enraptured by its latest meal that Sasha easily overtook it. He knocked the creature away from Aline, blood spurting everywhere, and they both crashed into the airship's railing. Aline slumped to the ground, and Sasha rose to go to her side. The vampire had the same idea, hissing as it scrambled towards Aline's supine form. Sasha's vision went red with fury. He grabbed the creature around its neck in the same manner it had grabbed Aline moments before.
It kicked and clawed at him in its frenzy, nothing left of the glacially beautiful woman Sasha had met at the ball. In her place was a rabid animal, Aline's blood dripping down her chin. He was beyond mercy. He backed the creature up to the railing and hurled it over the side of the airship. Its terrified screams were swallowed by the roar of the airship engine.
Salerno roared in anguish and shot off his pistol, hitting Sasha in the shoulder. Sasha staggered back from the blow, and gritted his teeth against the pain. He shook it off and rushed to Aline's side, ignoring Salerno, who still struggled to regain his senses from Theodora’s blow.
Sasha took her into his arms, his heart in his throat. She was deathly pale, the cut on her arm and the puncture wounds in her neck gushing blood. He staunched the wounds with his hands and leaned his cheek close to her mouth to feel for a breath. At last, he felt a feeble gust of air, and he nearly sobbed with relief.
"You bastard!" Salerno cried, his features twisted with his rage, as he regained his feet and advanced in their di
rection. "You killed her!"
Sasha cradled Aline closer, protecting her from Salerno with his body. His heart sank with dread when he noticed the pressure on her wounds did nothing to stop the bleeding. Her lips were nearly as colorless as her cheeks.
God.
"Stay with me, Finch," he murmured, disregarding Salerno's approach, rocking Aline back and forth. If she died now, he didn't care what happened to him. Foolish, foolish girl, what had she been thinking? How could she have tempted Theodora like that? For him?
He raised his head when he felt Salerno's shadow looming over them. He stared at the man through a haze of tears, unwilling to let go of Aline even with Salerno's pistol aimed at his head.
"Kill me now, and you'll never have your damned heart," Sasha bit out.
Salerno lowered the angle of his pistol to Aline. "No, I'll just finish her off," he sneered.
Sasha tensed, but a second later, something hit Salerno from the side, carrying him clear across the deck and into the operating table Hendrix had prepared. Hendrix shrieked and jumped away from the fracas, but not before grabbing up the strange square box that had crashed to the deck. He turned to flee the scene, but ran into the immoveable bulk of Fyodor, who quickly subdued the man, pinning him to the deck with his automaton leg.
Salerno regained his feet and came at his attacker, who turned out to be the Inspector, eyes aglow and fangs out. Drexler easily dodged Salerno's onslaught, then rounded on the man with a speed to rival any Elder, sinking his fangs into Salerno's neck, ripping it open. Salerno clutched at the wound, and Drexler jerked away from the man, spitting out the blood as if it were distasteful.
Salerno, weakened but undeterred, fell to the deck and crawled towards his fallen pistol. Another figure appeared in that moment, kicking the gun farther away from Salerno’s grasping hand with the toe of his tall boot. It was the Duke, black cloak swirling about him in the wind and a look of supreme distaste on his austere face.
"About bloody time you arrived," Sasha muttered.
The Duke curled his lip in disdain, as if he found the whole business a dreadful bore, and focused his attention on Salerno, who crouched at his feet, his eyes wide. Clearly, Salerno had not expected the Duke to appear. "You've made a fool of me, Carlos," the Duke murmured. "A fool of the whole Council. Anything to say for yourself?"
"That heart was supposed to be mine!" he spat out, defiant to the end.
The Duke shook his head. "Fredo always said you didn't deserve it. If only we had listened to him, we could have been spared this unpleasant business," he said, pulling an ancient broadsword from the sheath around his waist. “I hate this part.”
Salerno scrambled backwards, clutching his neck, but he wasn't quick enough. The Duke raised his sword and brought it down, severing Salerno's head – and fingers – in one smooth motion.
The Duke calmly cleaned his sword on Salerno's waistcoat before sheathing it, and turned to the Inspector, who was still spitting out Salerno's blood. "What's wrong with you?" he demanded.
"Bonded blood," Elijah muttered. “Not good.”
The Duke studied the Inspector with an inscrutable expression, then finally turned his attention back to Sasha. "How is she?"
Sasha clutched Aline tight to his chest, feeling the tears course down his cheeks. She wouldn't stop bleeding. He took a trembling hand away from the cut on her arm and felt her neck for a pulse.
He couldn't find one.
"She has a blood condition," he heard Rowan say in a grim tone, though Sasha hadn't seen the man approach. "It won't clot. She'll bleed out."
Sasha shook his head, lying Aline's limp body across the deck. There was blood everywhere, dripping from her spectacles, saturating her gown, his shirt, pooling around them. Oceans of blood. And she was so still. He ripped aside her bodice and pressed his hand against her sternum, searching for a heartbeat.
"She's alive," he breathed in relief when he felt the barest glimmer of a pulse.
"Not for long," Rowan said above him. "She's pissing blood, Sasha. There's only one way you can save her."
Sasha shook his head in disbelief, his heart dropping to his knees.
"Damn it, if you won't do it, I will!" Rowan cried, shoving him in the shoulder.
Sasha shook him off and stared down at Aline's face, so bloodless, so still. So dear. He knew he couldn't let her die, but there were no guarantees that the transformation would even work, with her damned blood disorder and her current condition. Bonding was not an exact science. And even if it did work, she'd hate him. But at least she'd be alive.
"I'd do it now, Tsarevich," the Duke murmured, "if you're going to do it at all." He handed Sasha the dagger he'd dropped earlier.
He ripped his blood-soaked shirt all the way off and gathered Aline once more in his arms. Then he plunged the dagger deep into his chest near his heart, where the wound would remain open the longest before closing up. His acidic, amber blood sizzled to the surface, and he pressed Aline's mouth to the wound, allowing it to gush over her lips. It burned her flesh like acid, and he closed his eyes against the sight.
When it was done, he held her close and waited. "Don't leave me, milaya. Please, don't leave me," he murmured. His damnable heart felt like it was arresting in his chest at the very thought of losing her. His soul ached as it had when he was still human and watching his wife's life slip away, helpless to do anything to stop it. If she died, he knew he’d die with her. He’d beg the Duke to cut out his heart.
But she remained unmoving in his arms, and the last of his hope began to fade.
Epilogue
Two months later
"ARE you quite sure you want to leave us, dearest?" Lady Christiana asked as Aline tightened the last strap of her luggage. Aline sat down gingerly on the bed beside her friend, groaning from the exertions of the morning. She'd remained at Llewellyn House for the last two months since she'd nearly lost her life aboard the airship. Even with Sasha's Blood Bond, it had taken a fortnight for Aline's body to recover completely from its wounds and accept the transformation. The rest of the two months had flown by in a haze.
She'd slept a lot in the last few weeks.
She'd soon discovered the reason why, after she'd begun spending her mornings bent over a chamber pot. Not only had she become immortal; she'd become a mother as well. Adapting to her new circumstances was not easy. Any time she'd thought of leaving Llewellyn House, a profound weariness of the soul had descended, forcing her to her bed.
And deep down she'd thought that perhaps if she waited long enough, Sasha would come back for her. But he'd left before she'd even woken from her delirium, and as the weeks passed, it became increasingly clear to her that he was gone for good. Not even Rowan knew where he was.
She'd begun to accept that he was not coming back, and that she needed to get on with her life. She touched her middle, feeling the slight bump already forming. Their lives, she amended. This impossible turn in her life was overwhelming. But she knew one thing: she would never regret the child Sasha had given her. "It's time," she said as brightly as she could manage. "And you know I have always wanted to see the Continent."
Christiana looked doubtful but squeezed her hand. "I shall come join you soon. I won't leave you to endure your labor alone."
Aline's vision began to blur with tears, and she wiped them away with exasperation. The one thing she would change about her condition was her tendency to turn into a watering pot every five minutes.
"Besides," Christiana said, "it shall be the closest I ever get to motherhood myself. You'll grow sick of me, I vow. I plan to be a very overbearing godmother."
Christiana was joking, but Aline could see the real yearning in her friend's eyes. When Christiana had Bonded with the Earl decades ago, she’d given up the possibility of ever having a family. It seemed it was forbidden under Council law, if not impossible anyway.
The discovery of Aline's pregnancy, however, had thrown Council law into question. The Earl had been anything but pleased, a
nd he’d been forced to inform the Duke of Brightlingsea, the Hero of Sevastopol himself, who, it turned out, was the leader of the Elders. Aline had been mortified to have such a private matter bandied about by strangers. And frightened.
And, in the end, spoiling for a fight. Her anger had trumped all. If these ancient, arrogant men with their ridiculous laws thought that they had any sort of say over her body and the child that she carried, they were wrong. When His Grace summoned her for an audience to inform her that she was allowed to keep the baby, since it had been conceived before the Bonding, she'd demanded to know why he thought it was any of his business in the first place.
He was clearly surprised by her defiance, as he was a man few dared to cross. She could see why, as he was the most intimidating man she'd ever met. But she refused to be impressed by his consequence, perhaps as a result of her raging hormones, and harangued him for a good while on his presumption.
At the end of her rant, she'd declared the only way he could have stopped her from having the baby anyway was to kill her, which she didn't think he was prepared to do. That had settled the matter permanently.
The Duke, eyes wide, had said cryptically, "Now I understand why he was so drunk," washed his hands of the situation entirely, and retreated to his Welsh estate.
When Christiana had heard what Aline had said to the Duke, she'd been shocked, then secretly delighted. But Aline’s unique circumstances had not changed Christiana’s. Aline couldn't help but feel guilty that she was having a child when Christiana never could.
But the point was likely moot. Even if it were possible for Christiana to conceive, the only man she seemed interested in was a vampire. Aline didn’t even attempt to work out the logistics of that.
Aline tried to lighten the mood. "One benefit of Bonding is that I no longer get airsick," she said. It was a fact she'd discovered on a short balloon ride the other day. "I mean to take advantage of that, and the fact I no longer have to worry about my lungs. I shall be the worst tourist."
Prince of Hearts (Elders and Welders Chronicles) Page 26
