I don’t miss the momentary flash of pain on his face before he shrugs and turns away. I just chalk it up to the appeal of Nikolai Skotos—that raw emotion that makes him seem almost…human. From the start, we shared a common agony, and I understood his need to cope with over-indulgence and vulgarity. It mirrored my own escape tactics.
“And what am I supposed to do about my friends? My family? What am I supposed to tell Chris and Donna?”
“They’ll understand,” Dorian reassures.
“And whoever doesn’t, we’ll make them,” Niko adds with a wink.
“I CAN’T BELIEVE what I just agreed to.”
Dorian and I are heading North on Academy Blvd. toward Chris and Donna’s house. Morgan opted to ride with Niko and Alexander in the Range Rover, so Dorian was left to drive her ostentatious, candy-red Mustang. He looks out of place in the brightly colored car—too polished and refined. I never really noticed how gaudy Morgan’s ride was until it was graced with Dorian’s beauty.
“Agreed to what?” He peers over at me through the corner of his black shades and the edge of his mouth twitches.
“You know what. Letting you guys take me away from my home…my job...my life. To agree to run. I’ve never run from a fight before, Dorian. I don’t see why I should start now.”
He shakes his head and purses his lips, as if he’s trying not to tell me something. As if he’s keeping another secret from me. I know I could make him tell me, but I don’t want to. I want him to want to be honest with me. I’m owed at least that much.
“There’s more, isn’t there? There’s something you’re not telling me.”
“Gabriella…”
“Spit it out, Dorian. If you want me to go along with your plan, I need full disclosure. You promised—no more secrets.”
He shakes his head, but I can see his defenses crumbling. He can’t lie to me. He wants to, but his curse won’t let him.
“There’s a bounty out—my brother, your father and myself. Stavros wants the three of us, and he’s willing to drain his resources in order to make that happen.”
“A bounty? So he sent people after you?” I can’t even hide the terror in my voice.
“Not people, Gabriella. Assassins. Warlocks who know how to kill a million different ways. Like your father. And like me.”
“Oh my God, Dorian. Why didn’t you tell me this before? We have to do something!”
“There’s nothing we can do, Gabriella! I just have to get you to safety.”
“Me? Why me? For fuck’s sake, why is everyone so damn worried about me?”
Dorian’s hands tense around the steering wheel until I can see the white of his knuckles. Shit. There’s more. I should have known there would be more.
“There’s a stipulation,” he mutters through clenched teeth. “You, in exchange for the three of us. We live if you agree to go to him.”
I bite my bottom lip to keep it from trembling. “And…don’t you think we should consider that option?”
“Fuck no,” Dorian spits, causing me to flinch at the harshness of his tone. “That’s not a fucking option, Gabriella. And if you even think that could be a possibility, get it out of your head now, because it’s not happening.”
We ride the rest of the way to Briargate in silence, without even the sound of the radio to replace the friction in the small space. When Dorian turns on my street, he cuts the engine a few houses down. He doesn’t have to—he’s been able to penetrate the wards for several months now. Niko pulls up right behind him, yet they all wait on our signal to make a move.
“Did I ever tell you about the first time I saw you?” His voice is back to being controlled and as smooth as silk, but he doesn’t look at me.
“No.”
“It was Valentine’s Day. You were at a restaurant with your friends. That boy was there…Jared. I saw that you cared for him. And for some reason, that made me angry. I could have killed you that night—I had planned to—but once I saw you, and the affection you had for him, I decided to wait. To watch you. To learn you. To find out why someone like you could love someone like him. Someone so human and weak and ordinary.”
Finally, Dorian turns to me and removes his dark sunglasses, letting me see him—the real him. “I still wonder that today. How could someone like you possibly love someone like me? With all that you are, and all that I’ve put you through, how could you give yourself to me, time and time again? I’m not worthy of you, Gabriella; I know that. So remember that before you try to do anything stupid. I’m not worth it.”
Before I can respond, he’s out of the car and opening my door. The others join us moments later but keep their distance. No one questions the look of sheer dread on my face, and I deduce that they already know. They know it’s either them or me. We can’t hide forever, and even if we could, what kind of life would that be? How could I banish my friends and family to an eternity in the shadows?
I knock on the door and wait anxiously, preparing myself for the chaos that will undoubtedly come next. What will they think about my appearance? My decision? Hell, what will they think about Alexander?
I hear footsteps approach, and an odd, almost floral essence from the other side of the door. It isn’t perfume or those essential oils that Donna likes to wear. It’s her magic. It’s faint, yet I can feel it wafting over me, filling my lungs, tempting my tongue. Instinctually, I take a step forward, eager to taste more, but Dorian stops me with a hand on my chest, feeling my curiosity as if it were his own.
“You need to remember what you are now,” he whispers. “We’re drawn to magic. It’s in our nature to want to harness it. You have to control those urges. If not, you could mistakenly kill Donna.”
I nod and stand up as straight as possible, pressing my fists to my sides. Shame paints my cheeks. I could kill Donna? I could hurt the only mother I’ve ever known?
Donna opens the door with a bright, welcoming smile on her face, taunting the demon inside me. But as soon as she takes in the scene before her, her expression goes from shock to fear to utterly elated.
“Thank goodness!” she shrieks, taking me into her arms without a hint of reluctance. “Oh, my sweet girl. We were so worried about you. I’m so thankful to have you back!”
She pulls away to get a better look at me and gasps at the sight of my dual-colored eyes. Physical proof of my transformation. “I’m so proud of you,” she sobs. “Look at you. So strong and beautiful. I just wish your parents could have seen the wonderful young woman you’ve grown into.”
“Lucky for me, I have,” Alexander says, stepping into view and coming to stand beside me. “I just wish Natalia would have had the same pleasure.”
“Alex?” Donna covers her mouth in disbelief, tears welling in her big blue eyes. “Oh my goodness, I can’t believe it’s you! You’re alive!”
“I am,” he says with a tip of his head. “It’s good to see you again, Donna.”
“But how? When?”
“Mom,” I say, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Why don’t we go inside, and we can explain everything?”
“Yes, of course,” Donna nods, ushering us in. Her glance stops at Niko as he passes, and he extends his hand.
“So lovely to meet you, Mrs. Winters. I’m Nikolai Skotos. Thank you for having me in your home.” When Donna places her hand in his, he gently slides his other over her knuckles, drawing her closer to him. “I have to say, you’re far too young and beautiful to have a grown daughter.”
Dazzled by his charm and roguish good looks, Donna blushes and mutters something unintelligible before Niko brushes past her, leaving her to linger in his influence. I shoot him a knowing look and shake my head, prompting him to wink at me with a wicked grin. Of course, our playfulness doesn’t go unnoticed by Dorian, who tightens his grip around my waist before leading me to the family room. It’s completely ridiculous for him to harbor an inkling of jealousy, but I can’t help but feel a surge of happiness from it. For so long, I felt inadequate. Like a litt
le girl in love with some unattainable god. And now, for once, Dorian is getting just a taste of what it was like to see him interact with that she-bitch, Aurora. He’ll never understand what it was like to lose him to her. He’ll never ever be able to fathom that magnitude of agony. But maybe this—this unfounded, imaginary thing he sees between Niko and me—will give him just a glimpse of the pure hell I was in for the past six months. I know it’s childish of me to want that, but I can’t help it.
We settle in on the loveseat while the others take the couch. Donna scurries off to the kitchen for refreshments just as Chris emerges from his study.
“Dad!” I exclaim before I can stop myself. Shit. I don’t dare to look over at Alexander. I can’t even imagine what he must feel at hearing that word used to describe someone else.
Chris doesn’t even seem to notice the motley crew sitting in his family room. He makes a beeline straight to me, pulling me into his arms for a bear hug as if I am five years old again. I can literally feel the tension draining from his body, allowing a rush of relief to wash over him. When he pulls away, there are tears in his eyes, but not from fear or confusion at my appearance. Of pure, undiluted joy.
“I always knew you were special, kiddo,” he rasps, his voice raw from an unshed sob. He cups my face, brushing away the moisture on my cheeks with his thumbs. “I always knew you’d make the right choice. You make me so proud, and so honored to call you my daughter. And no matter what happens, that’s what you’ll always be.”
When he takes a step back from me, I reflexively look over at Alexander, whose blank gaze is fixed on the floor. I feel bad, but I can’t deny the only father I’ve ever known. I can’t shun the man who loved and raised me just because Alexander has suddenly reappeared. I know he would’ve been there if he could, but he wasn’t. And Chris and Donna were left to fill that void when I was orphaned at infancy. They took on the impossible task of raising a child that was broken and foreign to them in every way, and they succeeded. They loved a little monster like it was their own flesh and blood.
Before Chris makes his way to his favorite recliner, he acknowledges Dorian beside me, giving him a stiff nod. “Dorian. Thank you. Thank you for protecting my daughter.”
I know it’s difficult for him—allowing himself to feel anything but disdain for Dorian. But he’s trying to see the good in him again. The good he saw over two decades ago when a ruthless assassin chose love and friendship over duty and tradition.
Chris steps forward and offers an outstretched palm, extending an olive branch. Dorian regards it for just a moment before standing to his feet and joining his hand with his.
“It was, and is, my greatest honor. And I plan to continue to love and protect her, for as long as she’ll have me.”
Chris nods once more, accepting Dorian’s proclamation as truth. Before he makes his way to his favorite, worn recliner, his eyes sweep over to the couch, widening with shock. Blood instantly drains from his face, leaving it pale and distorted in disbelief.
“Alex? Alex, is that you?” he stutters, swallowing several times. His gaze goes to me, to Dorian and then toward the kitchen where Donna is still preparing snacks.
Alexander lifts his head slowly, deliberately prolonging the inevitable. He knew what he was doing by coming here. He had to have expected that Chris had filled the space that was left behind by his supposed execution. So it doesn’t make sense that his unblinking, pale blue eyes are sparked with riotous fury as he stares back at my adopted father, a tight, almost mocking smile on his lips.
“Alex? Oh my God, it really is you. How did you…? Where have you been?”
Alexander doesn’t speak. He just keeps staring, those startling blue eyes growing paler and paler, as decades of pain and regret come boiling to the surface.
I can feel Dorian tensing beside me, his own instincts telling him that trouble is brewing. He shifts in a quick movement, pushing me back to shield my body with his own. He locks eyes with Niko for just a flash of a second, causing his brother to slide to the edge of his seat, on guard and prepared to subdue Alexander if need be. Or at least attempt to.
All this is happening within the span of one human breath. One mortal heartbeat. Leaving Chris oblivious to the single, thin thread that his life is dangling from.
And me? I’m just sitting there, wondering how the hell I got here. And what the hell I plan to do to stop it. I mean, I could stop it. I should stop it. Alexander’s anger is unfounded. He has no right to feel anything but gratitude towards my adoptive parents. They took me in and loved me when there was nobody left to fill that role. And yeah, I’ve made my fair share of mistakes, but I think they’ve done a pretty damn good job.
“Here we go!” Donna trills, holding a tray of lemonade and cookies. I watch as the palpable friction in the room slowly recoils like a retreating viper, conceding yet still deadly.
Blissfully unaware of the danger that lurks within this humble family room, Donna sets the tray down and begins to distribute glasses of lemonade, starting with Niko. He graciously accepts, yet keeps his eyes trained on Alexander who sits just a few feet away on Morgan’s right. He could push her out of the way and detain the Warlock before she even knew what happened.
When Donna offers Alexander a glass, he politely thanks her and diverts his venomous gaze back to the floor, making the rest of us release a tiny sigh of relief.
She hands me a glass, and when I reach my hand out to receive it, Donna grasps my hand and flips it around. “Oh my goodness! Is this what I think it is?” Her excited eyes dance between Dorian and me, waiting for the big announcement. I pull my hand back and put it behind my back.
“No, no,” I insist, shaking my head as embarrassment warms my face. “It’s not like that. Just a birthday gift.”
“Oh,” she smiles tightly, despite her obvious disappointment. “Well, it’s gorgeous, dear.”
Hoping to salvage the mood, Donna turns to Alexander. “I just still can’t believe it. Alex is alive!” She props herself on the arm of Chris’s recliner, and he reflexively places his hand on her knee in an act of possession and protection. Maybe he can sense the change in the atmosphere. Or maybe he just doesn’t fully trust the band of supernatural killers sitting before him.
Donna, none the wiser, prattles on in excitement. “What a wonderful surprise. We thought for sure you were captured by the Dark. How did you escape? Tell us everything!”
Alexander lifts his chin, just enough that his slow-burning gaze creeps up to Chris. “Why don’t you ask your husband that question?”
The fuck?
I open my mouth to ask him to clarify, but the words are caught in my throat as an inexplicable wave of nausea overcomes me. I grasp Dorian’s thigh, suddenly feeling dizzy, and he instantly draws me close to support my sagging body.
“What is it?” he asks, placing a cool hand on my suddenly flushed face.
“I just started feeling woozy. I’m fine, it’ll pass.” I try to sit up, but he refuses to let me go.
“You’ve given so much of yourself to Morgan. You’ve overexerted your powers. You need to rest.”
Donna scurries over, concern dimpling her forehead. “Gabi, sweetie, are you ok? Does she need to lie down?”
Dorian turns to her, mirroring her worry. The others draw in closer as well, ready to help in any way. “Gabriella had to heal Morgan last night, and it must’ve taken more out of her than we initially thought. She needs to replenish.”
I cringe, knowing exactly what that would entail. Obviously, that act would not be appropriate in front of my parents, immortal or otherwise.
“I’m fine, I promise. Just a little queasy.”
“Maybe some peppermint tea will do her some good,” Donna says turning toward the kitchen. I try to tell her to wait—to just wait until the sensation passes—when the doorbell rings, sending debilitating wave of nausea to rip through me.
“I’ll get it!” she announces, taking a detour to the front door. In the few seconds it tak
es for her to turn the doorknob, the nausea is replaced with a niggling feeling of doubt. Of danger. Just like I felt a year ago whenever the Dark was near.
“Wait!” I shout, my hand reaching out to stop her from across the room.
Donna opens the door, revealing a boy, no older than eighteen, dressed in black slacks and a crisp white shirt. A black, leather bound bible is tucked under his arm, along with a few pamphlets. The boy smiles brightly at Donna before extending his hand in greeting.
“No! Close the door, Donna!” I shout, eliciting varied looks of confusion from everyone, Dorian included. I use my strength to break free from his arms, bounding over the coffee table, towards the door…
But it’s too late.
Too late to stop her.
Too late to save her.
IT ALL HAPPENS so fast. Much too fast for any human boy.
Impossibly quick, he reveals a dagger and plunges it straight into Donna’s abdomen. The way he smiles as the blade slices into her flesh, I almost think I am imagining it. But I can’t deny the wet sound of hot steel tearing into soft, pliant skin and tissue. I can smell it burning into her body, killing vital organs on its journey through Donna’s belly. Yet I still don’t believe it. Not until she slowly turns to us, the dagger protruding from her fragile frame in a sea of deep red. She opens her mouth to speak, yet only blood gurgles up from her throat, spurting out of her mouth. Then she drops to floor, choking on her last breaths.
“No!” I scream, arms outstretched, covered in a fiery auburn haze. Electric fire bursts from my fingertips, surging to the murderous human boy until I can no longer see that sinister smile. Until the skin melts from his bones before being incinerated into a pile of ash.
“Mom!” I cry, falling to my knees to cradle her limp body in my arms. “No, no, no! Please!”
Chris is screaming, sobbing hysterically, praying desperately for a miracle. He drops to his knees in front of us. “No! Please don’t leave me. Please just stay with me, baby. Stay with me.”
I feel Dorian beside me, checking her vitals. He looks up at me with grave, hopeless eyes, but I refuse to see them. I refuse to believe this has happened.
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