He stared up and her, and then into the light. “What do you want?” Agony laced his voice. “I’ll do anything. I don’t want to die.”
“You belong to all of us now. Do you understand that, Zepar? You can never betray a single person’s blood that will run through your veins. If you do, God will see your sins. Your evil will be minimal with your collector. Not enough to take away your position as master, but it will change you. From him, you will face your consequences if you turn away from us. I give him that right.”
Zepar looked toward his brother. He paused, but nodded. “I accept.” His body jerked as another round of pain took over. “Do it!”
Stinging raced across her arm as Jason got to her. One by one, Jason lifted Zepar to their wounds. He drank as if his life depended on it, and it did. Marcella knew in the pit of her stomach that this was going to work. Their blood was unstoppable. Once Zepar changed over, and Samael and Donavon took their turns, together, they’d be the finger of God.
Chapter 12
The emotions that rushed through Samael were indefinable. He couldn’t believe his brother had submitted to Marcella’s demands. Zepar was his father’s most loyal servant. Now where would he stand? Would he be able to pretend like none of this had happened? He wasn’t sure if this was good or not. Sure, it was great to have Zepar be a part of them, but if he so much as screwed up on either side, he was fucked. Samael didn’t envy his life for a second.
A bright light flashed throughout the room, and Jason’s head slowly lifted. His brother had taken a good half hour to give into death, but once he did, the process went pretty fast. The wind immediately died down, and he watched Marcella collapse into Dom and Ambrose’s arms. Samael rushed through the circle, glad the ritual was finally over.
“Marcella,” he scooped her into his arms. “I can’t believe you did that.” The wound on her arm was already healed, but blood covered her shirt and jeans. He held her tightly to his body. “You know when you mix yourself in the ritual how draining it is on you. Fighting the wind for so long was more than you should have put yourself though.”
“Our son’s life depended on Zepar being alive. It had to be done, Samael.”
Time stopped as he looked into her eyes. Could it be true? Just imagining himself being a father to a boy that would lead in his passing, was all he’d ever wanted, and everything he never thought he’d have. A daughter would have been a blessing, but a boy. “My son,” he whispered. “How do you…”
“Ambrose.” She smiled. “He told me.”
His gaze connected with the collector. Ambrose smiled, knowing he’d just found out. “Thank you,” he mouthed to the former vampire.
Tattoos began to race down Zepar’s arms, but Samael continued to stare at Marcella. Love overwhelmed his heart. There was so much he wanted to say, and nothing that he would have been able to express. She needed to know of his love, his commitment to her and their child. He just wasn’t sure where to start, or what he could do to prove the amount of his devotion. Nothing seemed like enough.
“Let’s go see our new collector.”
Samael didn’t want this moment to end. Reluctantly, he put her down and let her pull him to his brother. Zepar stared at his arms in amazement. “If I had known this was possible, I would have bowed before you long ago.” He looked up at Marcy. Everything about his aura was different. So much pureness pulsed from him that it scared Samael. God, he hoped while his brother was in demon master form that this much good didn’t radiate through him, or else they were all in trouble.
“I’ve never felt so…” He looked down, puzzled.
“Good,” Marcella suggested.
“Is that what it is?” Zepar laughed. “I guess it’s not so bad.” He fell back and rested his hand over his heart. “I think I could get used to this.”
Samael noticed that, like Ambrose, he had no creature on his chest. The lines were thick like Marcy’s, Dom’s, and Jason’s, though. Even the symbols made up by his skin tone were the same as the other collectors. It was odd how they all shared similar patterns except for the former vampire. The tribal covering Ambrose was thin and delicate. Not at all like the rest of them. Samael didn’t understand it. It could have been from the evil they all held, but Jason had turned from being a human, and he’d been good enough to be a saint. Samael didn’t understand this collector stuff one bit. It didn’t add up.
“Welcome to our family, Zepar.” Marcy kneeled before him, and Samael didn’t miss the way adoration filled his brother’s stare. “We’re going to have to go back on our mission, but Jason will be here for you if you should need him for anything. He is your master now. Just as I am your queen. The creatures will come within a few weeks, and it can be a bit overwhelming at first, but the moment you feel uneasy, come here. Jason and Ambrose will help get you through them. Don’t hesitate to make this your home.”
“You truly are a good person. I’m so sorry about the past. I really am.” Zepar lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. “I never gave you the chance to win me over. I should have. Maybe things would have been different.”
“I doubt it.” Marcella smiled at him and brought his hands to her lips, returning the kiss. “We must go. Are you okay here?”
“I’m great.” He laughed.
“Wait.” Samael stepped forward, feeling his adrenaline soar. He couldn’t believe he was going to do this. “Marcy, you have to turn me. I want it now before you get further along in your pregnancy. We’re already here, and I know I’m not going to be able to talk you out of this trip. I think the drive will go so much smoother if my evil isn’t triggering every creature within a hundred-mile radius.”
“You’re right.” She turned to her collectors. “Be ready if I need you. I might be able to change him myself. I don’t think he’s as evil as Zepar was, but just in case, come in at once.”
Zepar stood and everyone left the circle. Marcella walked around and said a chant to cleanse the space. The smell of sage was thick, and quickly lavender took over. All of her clothing except her panties disappeared. The loose curls fell over her shoulder to cover her breasts. Samael knew his cue. He stripped down and took his place, lying down in the center.
The men around the circle began to take hands, and words poured from Marcella mouth. Light from the candles jumped, casting shadows along the walls. Samael tried to control his breathing as he looked at the men staring at him from outside of the circle. It was completely different to be the center of attention while knowing everyone there was about to witness his death. He swallowed hard and focused on the ceiling. Marcella began talking and he knew the glow would appear soon.
Wind began to move over Samael’s skin. On the cold cement floor it felt a lot colder than when he’d been the one witnessing the ritual. The sound of Marcella’s voice grew louder, and the circulation of air increased. Light explode above him, so bright that it blinded him. Samael tried to close his eyes against the pain, but the illumination held him locked. Flashes of his life began to project before him, and all the darkness he’d been raised in filtered though.
As the progression of memories passed, the scene of him seeing Marcella for the first time came into his view. Their gazes met and Samael had known he found the one that was meant for him. Then his father’s voice broke through, announcing that she was a gift to him. It completely ruined their moment. The way his father had described her sounded nothing more than a ploy for another one of his plots to take over. In disgust, Samael watched himself leaving his own party.
The images picked up again, only slowing at Marcella’s death. She’d looked right at him the moment before his father had ripped out her heart and crushed it in his palm. Samael gagged, or felt like he had. The pictures sped by, ending when he’d entered into the circle. Marcella’s voice burst into his ears, and he noticed her arm was pressed to his mouth.
Blood poured over his tongue and she was screaming at him to drink. How long had he been like this? Samael pushed his head forward and too
k her openly in his mouth. His vision burst into view. Her face was right over his, and he watched as a smile appeared.
Fire erupted in the pit of his stomach and Samael paused from drinking.
“Don’t stop,” Marcella urged. “The more you drink, the faster the process will go.”
Even though it was torture, Samael listened. The thick blood was sweet but hard to swallow. He got down three large mouthfuls before agony took over and he felt his body jerk back from her cut. Flames raced through him so fast that it crippled him, keeping him from thrashing like the men before him.
White figures began to dance above him, just outside of the circle. Samael was captivated. Although they looked like angels, he knew they weren’t. The thin, pale bodies seemed to move gracefully to a beat only they could hear. Long white gowns covered their bodies, and he noticed that their hair was just as pale as the rest of them. The room began to pulse and he blinked a couple of times, trying to bring it back into focus.
A woman’s head peered from behind Jason, catching Samael off guard. Who was she? The golden eyes immediately caught his attention, and as she stepped around him, Samael could feel himself gasp. She walked seductively, and her outfit was almost identical to the one Dominic had dressed Marcella in the day she’d become a collector.
Black leather pants hugged to the woman’s hips. A matching halter top covered her chest, and black hair blew out wildly around her as she breached the circle. No one seemed to see her as she came to stand directly in front of him.
Samael could feel his heart stop and knew his body was dead, and yet the woman was still above him. “Who are you?” he heard himself whisper. Damn, she looked so familiar. So much like…He shook his head slowly.
“My name is Leena.” She looked at Marcella. “And that is my mother.”
“What are you doing here?” Samael couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Jason and Marcella’s child was no longer an unborn baby, but a grown woman, a damn fierce one at that.
“I’m the only true living collector alive today. I was the one who answered your prayers and brought my mother back. I did it for you. I’ve watched your pain, Samael. Your love is genuine, and true. Do right by my mother. She deserves it.” Leena swallowed hard. “You all have a tough battle ahead, if your paths continue on this course. Beware, for friends are also foes. Take my gift of transition, for I am the keeper of the light.”
Leena vanished, and with her, a blinding light took over. Samael gasped for air and felt his body fly to a sitting position. He looked around the room wildly for Marcella and Jason’s child. She was nowhere to be seen.
Arms wrapped around him, and Samael held onto Marcella as she cheered for his transition into a collector. What was she going to say if everything she’d believed about the messages she’d received from her past were nothing more than thoughts planted by her own daughter? Samael wasn’t sure how he knew this, but he just did. Leena had been there from the beginning to help her, just as he had.
“Samael, how do you feel?” Marcella helped him stand, and a crawling feeling against his skin made him look down. Small lines began to cover his body. He looked at Ambrose. They were going to have the same markings. The mix between the Polynesian and Samoan tribal had always been his favorite, and now that it was on his skin, he could pinpoint exactly what kind it was. It wasn’t Celtic at all, but a mix of something altogether their own. They were the sign of a master. Apparently, he and Ambrose were already to that level. Once Marcella and the rest grew into their gifts, he knew their tattoos would change.
“You have wings on your back like me,” Marcella burst out. “I wonder why that is? I always thought it stood for my succubus. I guess not.”
Samael couldn’t talk with the jittery feeling he had. He stopped and looked down at his stomach.
Closing his eyes, he could feel the soul inside of him. Marcella’s history had his eyes flying open. He’d had no control to take her soul at all. But…she’d given it to him as if she knew he’d wanted it.
“You?” He whispered the words, knowing somehow that it wasn’t right to talk about the souls he harbored.
“Felt right,” she said lowly. “I’ve always been yours. Now I always will be.”
There it was again. That need to give her something monumental. Something that would be worthy of her. And there was nothing that came to mind.
“Thank you.” Samael couldn’t deny feeling off since he’d turned into a collector. He’d always been quiet, but even now, he felt like it was hard to talk. The men had come around and congratulated him, and all he could say was thank you to everyone. He needed to talk to Marcella and Jason and let them know who he’d seen.
“Let’s go celebrate before you all take off again.” Jason waved at them to come, but Marcella stepped up.
“I wish we could, but I’m exhausted. I really think I need to get back and rest.”
“She’s right,” Samael agreed. “We should be going, but Jason, I need to talk to you first.”
Everyone filed out except for Jason, Dom, and Marcella. Samael wasn’t even sure where to start. “When you all changed, did anyone come to you? I mean, was there a woman you talked to?” All he got was a blank stare from them. “I take that as a ‘no.’”
“Did you meet someone?” Surprise lit Marcella’s face.
“I did.” He ran his fingers through his long hair. “I met Leena.” Before he could go on, Dominic and Jason gasped.
“You met mine and Marcella’s daughter?” Jason yelled.
“What!” Marcella looked between him and Jason, baffled.
“Yes, she’s the keeper of the light. The only true living collector.” He looked at Marcella. “She’s the one who brought you back. I’m assuming she brought you all back, but she didn’t say that. Just mentioned you, Marcy.”
“My baby was a girl?” She turned to Jason. “How did you know, and why didn’t you tell me?”
He shrugged. “I really didn’t find the right moment, Marcella. Ambrose told me her name was Angelina. That she went by Leena. He didn’t say much more than that, except that she was happy.”
A staggering breath came from her. “Why didn’t she come to me? Why haven’t I seen her?”
Samael wasn’t sure what to say. Tears came to her eyes as she looked up at him. “What did she look like?”
“She looks like you.” He closed his eyes. “Her hair is dark and long like yours, and her eyes are golden. She had a bit of Jason in her, too, though.” Samael looked at them. “A warrior, for sure. At least with all the leather she had on, she looked like one.”
“Leather?” Jason and Marcella yelled out at the same time.
“Hey, I’m just telling you like I saw it, okay?” Talk about overprotective parents. They acted like he was at fault. Samael was just the messenger.
“We should get back,” Marcella whispered. “Maybe she’ll come to me when she’s ready.
Samael agreed. Tonight had turned into one that he’d never forget. He was sure that went for everyone else, too.
Chapter 13
The sound of Marcella being sick awoke Dominic. He sat up in the bed and saw that Samael was missing, too. A yawn came from his mouth and he forced himself from the motel’s hard bed. The toilet flushed, and a few seconds later Samael supported Marcella as she walked to the sink and began brushing her teeth.
“You okay?” He came over and watched as she shook her head.
“We’ve been up for an hour now. She’s been really sick this morning.” Samael rubbed her back as she leaned over the sink. After she was finished, she washed her mouth out with mouthwash and a shiver took over her body.
The tint of her skin was extremely pale. Worry settled through Dominic while she walked over to the bed and collapsed. “I’ll never eat pancakes again. I can still smell them.” She swallowed hard and Dominic looked at Samael.
“It’s what she ate this morning. I don’t think she even swallowed her first bite before it hit.” He lowered to the
bed and rested his hand on her hip. She’d moved into the fetal position and was practically curled around him.
“The smell,” she groaned. She waved her hand and vanilla filled the air. Dominic walked to the window and looked outside. The sun was already high in the sky. He checked the time. “Checkout is in twenty minutes, should I go and get another night here?”
“No,” Marcella sat up. “I’ll be fine. It’s already passing. Maybe if we get back on the road the fresh air will help.”
“Are you sure?” Samael didn’t look like he believed her.
Slowly, she stood. “I wouldn’t put the baby under extra stress if I could prevent it. I really think it’ll help.”
“All right. Let’s go load up then. If you get sick again, or look any worse, we’re stopping. Agreed?”
“I won’t fight you one bit.” She kissed his hand, and Dominic could see Samael practically glow from the action. Their love was amazing to see. Just as he was thinking that, she turned and wrapped her arm around his waist. “Dom, will you lay in the back with me? I feel like cuddling.”
“Of course.” He held her close as they left the room and headed for the SUV. The heat was stifling, and he was sure it wasn’t any cooler here than it was in Texas. The locks clicked as Samael hit the button and Dominic pulled open the door. He folded down the backseat and made the surface flat. He envisioned a thin layer of foam for comfort and laid out a blanket to cover it, and then one to cover up with in case she got cold. Marcella climbed in and he followed her. Pillows appeared before them and she lay on her stomach so she could stare out of the windshield.
Samael ran back to drop off the key card and then climbed inside. “You both look comfortable. Good. I think I like this better. Now at least I know you’re relaxing as best as you can under the circumstances.”
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