by Irina Argo
Cara had crashed into a police station. How convenient. She’d already been handcuffed and was surrounded by police officers. The back of his demolished Ferrari was projecting from the broken windows of the building. Shit! Any other time he’d have felt crushed about losing his favorite boy toy, but right now he wasn’t interested. He had to get his female back.
Stepping forward so she could see him, he called to her. “Cara!”
She flinched and looked in his direction, her eyes flashing with fear. Anock’s heart dropped; she was afraid of him.
The truth hit him like a sledgehammer. It had all been an illusion. She’d never loved him. Everything she did was out of fear, not out of love. His soul cramped in agony. You fucking idiot, you deserve it. You locked her in the bloodstock cells. Accept reality: she hates you.
Someone bumped into him, and he had to stifle his impulse to kill the bastard. It was a reporter, and when he looked around, he saw hoards of them, like ants. Armed with microphones and followed by their cameramen, they circled Cara like sharks. It was a fantastic story, Anock realized bitterly: a young woman who looked like a movie star and wore a designer fur coat had just driven a red Ferrari through the front window of a police station. One of the reporters shoved a microphone at Cara’s face, asking her what had happened.
“Are we on the air?” she asked ignoring his question.
The reporter nodded. Cara reached for the microphone and said, “I am asking the Legacy for Sanctuary.”
“Sorry?” The guy apparently had no idea what she was talking about. But Anock knew. Everything fell into place: the crash had been deliberate, the police station probably chosen purposefully to attract as much attention as possible and to heighten security until the reporters showed up so that she could ask—
“—the Legacy for Sanctuary,” he heard her repeating firmly.
If someone from the Legacy had heard her, they’d be here within minutes, maybe seconds. He had to act fast. Anock shoved the reporter aside and stood in front of the cops, locking his eyes with theirs. “Excuse me, officers, this is my wife and she needs to go with me. Please, remove the handcuffs.”
Hypnotized, they all stared at him agreeably, and one of the cops did what he’d asked. As Cara’s hands were freed, Anock gripped her upper arm. “Cara, please come with me. You’ll be safe, I promise you.”
“Never!” She snapped.
“Cara, please. Let’s go.” He was working hard, very hard, to control his temper.
“No! Let go of me! No!” Cara protested, trying to squirm out of his grip.
“If a female says no it means no, Anock.”
Anock wheeled around. The Legacy. Fuck. Three of them. And, damn, it was some old buddies of his.
“Mind your own business, Sargas. This is my female. She goes with me.”
“I ask for Sanctuary.” Cara wrenched her arm from Anock and ran to the closest Legacy warrior. “He’s abusing me. Please help me.”
“I am what?” Anock was speechless. He had just rescued her from the bloodstock cells and spent a fortune on her.
“Cara.” He moved toward her, but Bruno stepped between them while Sargas picked her up and disappeared through the crowd.
“Get out of my way,” Anock snarled, shoving Bruno aside and lunging after Sargas, muscling his way through the crowd only to see Sargas setting Cara into a car, parked on the far side of the street. Anock shot toward her but bumped into the huge, bulky body of Rock.
“Calm down, Anock. The girl is under our protection.”
“Fuck you. Get out of my way.”
Immovable, he shot a fist into Rock’s jaw. Rock took the blow and struck back. As Anock ducked to avoid it, he saw the car take off with Cara inside. His vision red, he swooped at Rock like a hawk. They fought like machines, on autopilot, until they were pulled apart by the Legacy warriors, who’d gotten backup from Ken and Blade. Anock tried to resist them, but finally gave up, dimly aware that he was being irrational and had to get away from the crowd. He let the Sekhmi drag him away and push him into the car. Blade jumped in next to him and Ken slid into the driver’s seat. As they pulled out, Anock smashed the window with his fist.
“What? You haven’t had enough pain yet?” asked Blade.
“She hates me,” Anock howled, punching the car door. “She hates me, Blade.”
“Give him the blood,” Ken said to Blade, and then to Anock: “It’ll calm you down.”
Blade withdrew a container from a bag on the floor. It was the same jar Ken had brought to Anock’s office earlier and Anock had left there unfinished.
He grabbed the jar and hurled it against the window across from him, shattering both the jar and the window. The night-lily scent filled the car, making Anock sick.
He leaned his head back and covered his face with his hands. His eyes were dry, but tears were flooding his soul.
Don’t say a word, or I swear I’ll kill you both, brothers.
“Take me to the Legacy.”
“Not now, boss. You can’t attack them. That’s not how it works. This is the Legacy you’re dealing with, and a female in Sanctuary.”
“Take me to the Legacy, damn you. I want my female back.”
“Listen, Anock.” Ken’s voice was stern. “You’ve got to calm, down first. Blade is right. You’re not in any condition right now to demand anything. You’ll only ruin everything. They already think you’re crazy, and all that does is show them that she’s right to request Sanctuary.”
“I don’t fucking care.”
“You should if you want to get your girl back,” Blade muttered, brushing shards of glass off his suit, as they pulled into the mansion’s underground garage.
Chapter 78
“Blade, call the Legacy and tell them that if any of their assholes dare to court Cara, I’ll rip their entrails out and sell them as pet food,” Anock growled as they walked to his office.
“Okay. How ’bout I translate it for them. I’ll say that the girl is yours and you kindly request that they keep their filthy hands off of her.” Blade grinned at him before heading down the hall to his own office.
When they got to his office, Anock went straight over to the wall behind his desk. Opening the panel that hid his weapons collection, he pulled out his latest addition, a Carbon Xtra CLS crossbow, and peered through the scope at Kennet. “So, what do you think?”
“Come on, Anock. You can’t shoot a demon with that thing,” Ken said, rolling his eyes. “Let’s get back to business. The King wants to know about your progress with Simone.”
“No progress at all,” Anock replied, caressing his toy’s barrel. “She refuses to relinquish her Keeper powers. I’ve tried everything.”
“Tor understands and has offered to help you. Call him.”
Anock raised his brows. He hadn’t been able to reach Tor. The King had turned off his phone.
Ken answered his silent question. “He’ll be available this time. Go try Simone again, and call Tor if you need to.”
“Well, it can’t hurt to try.” Anock stood up and reluctantly put the crossbow away.
Heading over to the apartment where they’d been keeping Simone locked up, he opened the door to find her lying on her bed, face down, fully dressed. She showed no reaction as he stood in the doorway to her room.
Anock sat on the edge of her bed. “Simone, we need to talk.”
Silence.
“Sim, come on.” Still no response.
Damn, why was it so difficult dealing with females? “I understand that you hate me and that you’re angry, but there are things that are more important than our personal emotions. I’m going to say it one last time: you must surrender your Keeper powers to Arianna.”
She didn’t move a muscle. Why hadn’t he brought his crossbow? Careful, Anock. Don’t project your frustration onto her; stay on track.
“Fine. You leave me no choice.” Anock called Tor. To his surprise, the King answered o
n the first ring.
“I’m with Simone, sir. She refuses.”
“Give her the phone.”
“Your father wants to talk to you.” Anock handed Simone the phone.
She took it listlessly from his hand. “Hello?”
* * *
“Simone.” Tor’s voice was tender. “Listen, my daughter, I’m sorry that you’ve been locked in the apartment, but your behavior left me no choice. I want you to know that I love you, and I always have. I just haven’t been very good at demonstrating it. I know that sometimes I was distant. It was just that I’d never raised a girl before. I didn’t know how, and it was even harder knowing that you didn’t even have a mother to turn to. None of this is your fault, and I wish I could rewind and start over again. I’d have done everything differently. I ask for your forgiveness.”
Simone took the phone away from her ear and stared at it, astonished, as if it had come to life in her hands and was talking to her on its own. This was the last thing she’d ever have expected to hear from her father. He’d said he loved her—and he’d completely disarmed her.
She brought the phone back to her ear. Before Tor had started talking, all she’d wanted to do was yell and scream. Now she could barely speak through the tightness in her throat, and all she could say was “Father.”
“I know it’s hard, Simone,” Tor continued. “But there are times in our lives when we must make personal sacrifices, even terribly painful ones. This is one of those times. Please, Simone, it is very important for me that you surrender your powers as a Keeper. My daughter, please, if you refuse to do it for yourself, do it for me, because I love you.”
Simone knew then that he had won. If he’d been demanding, she could have refused without a second thought. But how could she reject him now, when he’d finally told her something she had been longing to hear her entire life? His voice echoed in her brain, again and again: “I love you and I always have.” With those simple words, he’d captured her. She would do what he asked.
“I will,” she told him quietly, feeling tears matting her eyelashes. “But I don’t know where Arianna is. And ... ” She paused, breathing in all her courage. “I want you to know that I was the one who helped her escape.”
“Yes, I know. It’s okay.” Tor’s voice was still soft. “I respect your love for your sister.”
Then there was a long, loaded pause that lasted a lifetime. “I’m sorry, daughter. Anock will take you to her.”
Tor hung up. Simone just sat there in a stupor until Anock took the phone from her.
“Alright, Princess; let’s go see Arianna.”
“What?” What about Sanctuary?
“She’s here. We couldn’t just let the Queen of the Amiti go free.”
“So it was all a setup.” She felt the last remnants of her ego shred into little pieces that fluttered to the floor. It had been bad enough to betray Oberon, give up the Keepers’ location, and agree to give up her powers; this was the last straw. “No wonder everything went so smoothly.” She dropped her face into her hands and sat like that for several minutes, trying to tame the rage stirring inside her.
Finally she looked up at Anock. “Where is she?”
“I’ll take you to her.”
In a daze she followed Anock to the elevator and then down the stone corridor to the bloodstock cells. The place looked about the same as the basement of the pride’s estate at Sharm el-Sheikh. The thought of her sister doomed to spend the rest of her life in this dismal crypt was beyond painful, beyond what her defenses could withstand. She felt her mind check out.
When her sense of reality returned, she found herself facing her sister. Arianna looked just as she had when Simone had found her in the pride’s bloodstock cell, dressed in a dull grey smock, lethargic on her bed, apparently having just been drained again.
“Ari!” Simone mumbled. “Arianna, I’m so sorry. They set us up—it was a trap. I really thought I was rescuing you.”
Arianna stayed silent, her eyes expressionless.
“Talk to me, Arianna. It’s me, Simone.”
“Why are you here?” Arianna finally asked, her voice apathetic.
“She came to surrender her Keepers’ powers to you,” Anock interjected, taking a seat in the cell’s only chair, crossing his arms and legs and leaning back to tilt the chair against the wall.
“Fine.” With obvious effort Arianna sat up on the bed. “I’ll take them back. Give me your hands.”
Simone stepped forward hesitantly. In a split second, Arianna transformed; no longer a pitiful bloodstock, she became the Queen of the Amiti, holding herself with dignity and integrity. Her demeanor made Simone feel petty and worthless as she stood in the middle of the room, wishing for the earth to swallow her.
“Give me your hands,” repeated Arianna, reaching out, palms up. Simone placed her palms on Arianna’s. Her sister’s hands were as cold as a corpse’s, and Simone wanted to rub them, warm them with her breath. Arianna must be freezing down here, alone and surrounded by the stillness of the heartless cement walls. How could she possibly survive in this grave? Simone pictured her own room: comfy silk quilt and satin sheets, fresh roses and a bottle of cabernet on the side table, window open to the garden. How could she live her life from now on, knowing that her sister was deprived all of that? Of everything?
“Now look into my eyes and say that you ask the Amiti Queen to take your powers as Keeper.” Arianna’s voice reached her from the underworld.
It was the underworld: Sheol, Hades, Tartarus. And it was Simone and her pride who’d doomed Arianna to this place. She shivered, trying to drive away the thought.
Arianna’s quiet voice pulled her back. “Do what I told you to. I’m tired, Sim.”
Mechanically, Simone repeated Arianna’s words. There was a sudden, jolting shift of air in the room, and she felt a powerful stream of energy leave her body and flow into Arianna’s. As Simone watched, Arianna’s green eye turned amber, and both pupils narrowed until they were vertical ovals. The transformation lasted for only a few seconds, and then her pupils rounded out again and her eye color returned to normal, one green and one amber.
“Now, Simone, you are free to live your life without the heavy burden of being a Keeper.”
“How do we know that her powers are gone?” asked Anock, startling Simone, who had totally forgotten that he was there.
“You can feel it. You’ve been around Keepers; you should have a memory of their energy field. Sense her.”
Anock turned to Simone, narrowing his eyes and focusing for a moment. “She does feel different. Maybe ... lighter.”
Simone felt the shift, too. Anock’s description of her as lighter felt accurate, but something was missing. The deep knowledge she had previously sensed within her was gone.
“Let’s go.” Anock got up from his chair.
She opened her mouth to argue, but caught Anock’s glance and choked on the words before she could say them. Never in her life had she felt so powerless. She understood that it would be a total waste of effort to demand Arianna’s release. They wouldn’t let her go, and there was nothing she could do to convince them otherwise. But she couldn’t leave Arianna without giving her at least a glimmer of hope.
“Ari, I’ll do everything I can to help you, I promise. Do you believe me?”
Arianna didn’t answer, didn’t even look at her. She just dropped her head onto the pillow and closed her eyes. Her beauty had vanished. Her skin was pasty, the same shade as the pillow, and her face had grown sharp and angular, her features losing their softness. Her once dazzling hair had lost its lustrous shine; it was as lifeless as a cheap synthetic wig. She just looked ugly and depleted.
Simone caught herself wondering if she, too, looked ugly and depleted. Part of her recoiled with self-loathing for thinking that way—about herself or Arianna—but given everything that had happened, a little more self-loathing wouldn’t make a big difference.
&nb
sp; She had to be honest with herself: it was exhausting to be this miserable. Her inner vampire rejected the darkness her soul had descended into and demanded that she reclaim her life. She could no longer tolerate the emotional pain it caused her to think about Arianna and Oberon. It was so severe that she constantly felt sick. It was unfair. Did Simone have to stop living her life just because others were deprived of theirs? She wanted to party, laugh, dance, flirt, and shop, dammit. Their fate wasn’t her fault. It was not.
Or was she just a coward trying to escape a problem that required a colossal investment of her life energy to resolve? Would she really be able to live her fabulously privileged life knowing that people so dear to her heart were enduring such endless torture?
Nobody could answer those questions for her. She’d have to make these choices on her own. And if she made herself face the truth—not run away like she wanted to—she knew that what she did in this situation would set the course for the rest of her life. Her decision would define who she was, who she would ultimately become.
“I’ll be back, Arianna, whatever it costs me. I promise.” She glanced at Arianna one more time and left the cell. In total silence, she followed Anock back to her apartment.
Blade and Ken were waiting there.
“What the hell are you doing here? Get out of my room.”
“Of course, Princess,” Ken said calmly. He and Blade both moved toward the door.
As they passed Simone, she felt a vibration in the air, sensed the danger—but by then it was too late. She felt a swift, sharp pain like a bee sting in her shoulder, felt her strength dissipating in a rush. Ken caught her in his arms and carried her to the bed, while Blade threw a syringe into the garbage can.
“Sorry, Princess. It’ll be better for all of us if you sleep for a while,” Anock said, covering her with a blanket. “Good night, Sim. Sweet dreams.”
With helpless rage and blurred vision, she watched them leave her apartment before the darkness enveloped her.
Chapter 79
The war was finally coming to an end, and the vampires would win. All of the Keepers had been captured, bled and locked in silver-steel cells in the basement of the Guardians’ mansion, awaiting execution. But Tor wasn't feeling the thrill of victory. In fact, he couldn’t remember ever feeling so terrible. It was as if he saw a black hole before him, ravenously consuming all the mass and light within its reach, and he knew that whatever tiny remnants of light still flickered in his soul were rapidly approaching its event horizon, the point of no return where they’d disappear forever, leaving Tor in cosmic darkness. He was going to have to do the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life—sign death sentences for all the Keepers, including Arianna—and his hunt for an alternative, any alternative, was growing increasingly desperate.
