Now.
Listened to the other end while Sebastian raised his sword.
Now.
“Shroud?” he asked. Sebastian closed the distance between them. “With Ian? Oh, wonderful. Send them right up.”
Sebastian struck.
IAN
I shifted my weight while my stomach twisted. Trying not to see, not to let the person standing next to me bother me. I gulped and clenched my fists.
Kent looked at me, worried.
“We can still turn back.” His familiar liquid singer’s voice melted over my ears.
“No.” My voice shook. “Amanda’s in there, and Sebastian and Josephine. If we don’t do something about Specter now, he won’t leave any of us alone. Not ever. You know that.”
Kent sighed. “He doesn’t give up. That is true. Maybe you’re right, little sister.”
My sight went red. I clenched my eyes shut.
“All right?” His concern was so genuine, for a moment, I wasn’t.
I shook my head. “It’s just . . . you look just like him. Exactly.” I let myself look, and like I’d worried I would, found myself drinking in the sight of him. Afraid of looking because it wasn’t him at all.
He shrugged. “That’s because I’m in your head. It’s a simple trick, really. I just tell you what to see. Since you knew Kent, I can tell you to see Kent. That way everything’s perfect. I can’t accidentally leave anything out.”
My thoughts flashed to Not-Emily – he’d had me fooled. Completely. And that was how he’d blacked out the lights in the penthouse. He could control what we saw. If I hadn’t gotten close enough to touch, close enough to drink his cold blood, I would never have known. Even at that, I wondered if he could have fooled me into feeling warmth and tasting mortal blood. If he’d wanted me to know right before he killed me.
I nodded and dragged my eyes away from Alec. That hurt worse. I wanted to look.
“I miss him,” I murmured. My eyes welled with tears.
“Yes,” Alec said, but his tone sounded distracted and far away.
Oh, Kent. I miss you. The tears dripped off my nose, slid down my cheeks. Reminded me how hungry I was.
Kent had given me that. And then he left, without telling me everything it meant. I knew he didn’t mean to, I knew that. I just wished he’d been more careful, kept himself safe.
Anger at Alec swelled again. I wanted to punch the person next to me – except I couldn’t punch Kent.
I clenched my fists and waited for the elevator to stop.
PENTHOUSE
Specter whirled before Sebastian’s blade could find its mark. Too fast. Too late to pull the blow. Sebastian grit his teeth, trying to stop it, feeling the impossibility. His sword fell on Josephine, as he had feared, as he had hoped it would not. The blade stabbed into her middle, aimed for Specter’s heart. She screamed. The sound ripped Sebastian apart, piece by piece.
Sebastian pulled the sword. Fresh, wet crimson stained the blade.
Specter looked down at Josephine. “Really, she’s not going to last long like that. You should be more careful.” Confident that Sebastian would not attempt to strike again, he sauntered to the elevator door and hit the call button. He turned so both Sebastian and the elevator remained in his sight. “Only a moment now.”
Sarah, on the floor, her eyes glassed over as Josephine’s were now, the taste of her lingering in his mouth while she gazed at him one last time . . .
“Answer my challenge, Specter, goddamn you!” Sebastian’s voice came out ragged, as it had not since he woke and found Sarah lying so quiet and still beside him. Emotions he couldn’t even begin to name boiled in him.
“Your time away has done nothing for your temper,” Specter chided.
Tears misted Sebastian’s eyes. Tears of anger, of frustration, tears for the slice across Josephine’s middle, where her shirt slowly wicked away what little blood she had left.
“Damn you!”
Specter watched him, lazily, as if he were about to yawn. Josephine’s eyes registered fear, though unfocused. As though she saw something horrible that Sebastian could only guess at.
“Aha!” Specter’s smile widened. Sebastian heard the elevator come to a quiet stop.
Perhaps, perhaps when he decides to drink Ian, I can take action then, keep him from killing her, get to Josephine in time . . .
But Josephine was rapidly running out of time. Her eyes fogged over while the last of her blood seeped away. Sebastian felt his hand trembling on the hilt of his sword, though the tip remained steady.
The doors of the elevator slid open. Sebastian didn’t turn to look. The hunt, the fight, it had all come to this end, and he could not force himself to watch Ian face her death.
But as the doors opened, Specter’s eyes went from smiling and expectant to wide.
Shocked.
Pained.
An expression Sebastian had never imagined could cross his mentor’s face.
Josephine slipped from his arms. She landed roughly on the floor, opened her mouth to cry out. Her voice had no more strength than a gasp.
As Specter’s face twisted into agony, Sebastian felt his surprise melt. Felt emotion turn to thought, thought turn to movement. He pulled back his sword and rushed forward.
Specter’s eyes flicked from the elevator to Sebastian – widened as he realized he’d let go of the one thing keeping Sebastian back. He threw up an arm to block, reaching for his own sword –
Sebastian’s blow fell, cutting through muscle and sinew and bone through to air, and into muscle again. From mid-forearm down, Specter’s arm hit the floor, tumbling away from them before it began rot. Specter roared, a sound of frustration rather than pain. When he pulled back, sword drawn, Sebastian saw the slice he’d laid across his teacher’s neck – not enough.
The distraction was at an end. Specter’s anger focused fully on Sebastian. Snarling, his former teacher attacked.
IAN
My knees tried to give out from under me. I hung onto Kent’s arm, unable to scream when I watched Specter’s arm fly through the air and hit the floor. It landed with a heavy thunk.
The look on his face when he saw . . .
His eyes had locked on Kent-Alec. Images, rapid-fire, had slammed into me, too clear to be imagination, too filled with emotion to be mine – He and Kent together, how alive Kent made him feel; watching Kent progress, sword in hand, blood-thirsty sneer on his face; the agony of watching him walk away . . . in his mind, screaming after Kent’s unresponsive back over and over, “How dare you?”
The instructions to tear out Kent’s heart had been very specific.
But here he was, in the flesh, beside his new child. The second brat to steal the place beside him. Alive.
And all Specter could think was, I’m so glad . . .
I tried to shut my eyes when I caught Sebastian’s movement, but they wouldn’t obey me. The sound made me cringe more than the sight – a wet thunk as the sword cut through, a damp crack as the arm hit the floor –
And then the swords crashed together, a heavy, dull sound. I watched, unable to stop watching. The first few strokes seemed even, almost choreographed. I wanted to look away, so I wouldn’t have to see Sebastian take him down.
But with each clash of swords, the movements got faster and faster, until they nearly blurred. I could still see them and follow the moves – but I didn’t think a mortal could ever fight like this. And even missing one hand, Specter was obviously still a match for Sebastian.
My grandfather. Trying to kill my best friend.
I didn’t dare blink. It wasn’t just a sword fight; they blocked with arms or legs, spun, kicked, punched. I couldn’t even follow everything, except that every blow seemed about to land square on one or the other, and they always blocked or dodged it. When Sebastian ducked a blow aimed for his neck and took it in the shoulder, I gasped.
“Do something!” I hissed at Alec. He stood like he’d been welded into place next me, watching t
he fight with a dark kind of interest. That look on Kent’s face was so odd it startled me. I shook his arm. He blinked. I thought I would have to repeat myself, but he didn’t even look at me.
“Specter, wait!” he yelled out in Kent’s voice. “Stop, please! I need to talk with you!”
We might as well have been watching a movie for all the good it did. They kept going, following their script. And from the way Sebastian kept taking steps backwards, it didn’t look good.
“Fuck!” I hissed. Sebastian was definitely moving back. He looked like he wanted to get around to Specter’s other side, but he had to keep his sword up to defend himself. He hadn’t gotten a shot of his own in for a few strokes now.
Kent-Alec shrugged. “He’s too good. We managed to shock him, but he won’t be distracted during a fight.”
“Fuck!” I said again. I had to do something . . . I thought of pulling Josephine out from under foot, but the fight had moved away from her and Sebastian needed help way worse.
I could see two swords lying on the floor, pretty close to me. One looked heavy, I didn’t think I could even lift it. The other one, though, seemed light and thin. I could probably swing it around just fine . . .
Yeah, swing it around. Not use it. I’d get myself killed.
But if I didn’t do something, Sebastian would get himself killed. Specter was backing him into a corner, he couldn’t possibly swing a sword from there. His face had become that mask of rage again, and I could tell he knew he was being herded.
“Can you fight him?” I asked Alec-Kent.
He shook Kent’s blond head. “I don’t have half the training Sebastian does, and look at him.”
That settles it.
Before he could say anything else, before I could think too hard and scare myself out of it, I let go of his arm and ran for that slender sword. I couldn’t fight Specter either, but if I could hold that sword and rush in real fast while Specter was blocking or swinging, he wouldn’t be able to turn around before I stabbed him through the heart.
Right?
“Ian, Christ, don’t!” Kent’s voice yelled after me. But I had already crouched to grab the sword. I got it and stayed hunkered, watching the fight. Trying to pick up the rhythm of the blows, trying to see where I could dart in and –
Stab him to death.
That should have horrified me. But right now, I flexed my fingers on my sword and remembered to take into consideration how long it would take me to run across the floor.
“Ian, stop!” Kent shouted.
From where I crouched, I could see Amanda hiding, her eyes enormous, staring at me. I tried not to think about her, because Sebastian was in serious trouble.
As that thought ran across my mind, his sword flew out of his hands and I knew I had to move now or not at all. I ran, sword raised, and screamed.
“Bastard!”
I pelted across the room, watching everything happen in slow-motion. Specter raised his sword to stab it down into Sebastian. Sebastian glared up at him, his face utterly hateful. And then, as I got close enough to bring my sword down, I watched Specter whirl. Changing his strike from Sebastian to me. His handsome face grinned with complete joy.
I couldn’t see or hear or think of anything beyond my sword – and him. My hands suddenly felt like something had crashed into them.
I hit him?
It felt that way. I could feel the sword in my hands, and they stung like they’d hit something really hard.
I hit him!
But he seemed very unconcerned that I had. In fact, he pulled his own sword back for a second blow. I glanced down, expecting a sword in my hands, thinking that maybe he had just enough left to take me with him.
There was no sword. A few seconds late, my numb hands sent that information to my brain. He’d knocked it away from me so hard that my hands had lost all feeling. I looked back up into Specter’s awful, joyful face, just as the tip of the sword pressed into my chest.
I gasped as it sank in, metal sliding past skin. It didn’t hurt.
All I could think was, yes, I had gotten myself killed. I lost.
The tip of the blade tapped my sternum. I felt it hit the bone, a gentle thunk. Waited for it to keep pushing, crack the bone, force into my heart. It stopped against my sternum and didn’t move.
I waited for the end, clenched, thinking –
Stupid.
The blade pulled back out again.
I blinked.
Specter’s eyes and mouth had opened wide. He was purely, openly stunned. My face must have looked just like his. He still had his own sword raised above his head, not touching me at all. The blade that had cut my chest protruded out of his, reaching between us for only a second.
And then he crumpled.
Kent stood behind him, lips curled in a snarl, sword in hand and bloody to the hilt. Sebastian knelt to one side, still empty handed. Kent let the tip of his own blade droop and watched Specter fall. Specter hit the floor, sprawling, his sword clattering. He didn’t move. Kent rushed for me and threw his arms around me.
I burst into tears.
PENTHOUSE
Sebastian did not waste time in shock. He pulled himself to his feet, ignoring gashes and cuts, and rushed to Josephine’s side. For all that the fight had seemed to take hours, he knew it had only lasted minutes. He dropped to the floor, wrist in his teeth, and gave Josephine the wound he opened. Somewhere in the background, Ian sobbed. He could hear Amanda whimpering, if he listened closely. He did, long enough to assure himself she lived. And then his attention focused entirely on Josephine.
She did not drink.
Her shirt was stained red where it should have been white, a patch that covered her entire side. How much had she lost? How much did she need?
Has it been too long?
Sebastian refused to think that. Instead he stroked Josephine’s hair, said her name, and let himself bleed and bleed for her.
Ian’s boots thumped to the side of the room where her child huddled. He listened to the two girls wrap their arms around one another, Ian murmuring to Amanda. Still he bled.
His voice grew strained and doubt began to creep in when finally, Josephine swallowed. Only a weak movement. For a moment, he wondered if he had imagined it. But another came, a tiny flash of her throat, and after several seconds, another.
His heart leaped.
“Yes, please Josephine, drink, drink . . .” He pushed her hair away from her face, whispering to her, watching her throat flash as she swallowed. Gradually, she closed her mouth over his wrist and sucked. Her eyes fluttered, then opened, and she looked up at him.
He had fed her so much already, his own hunger roared to be satisfied. It was insignificant, unimportant compared to what Josephine needed.
Red drops appeared across her face. It alarmed him –
– until he felt the wetness on his own face. His tears, falling on her.
Some shadowy part of his mind knew that tears could be joyful . . . he shook his head, unsure, unable to stop them in any case. Josephine closed her eyes against the red drops landing on her face and sighed.
“Dammit, Alec, take that face off!” Ian’s voice said.
Sebastian looked up.
Kent stood before him.
Sebastian froze.
Before he could do more than that, Kent’s features blurred – for a moment, Sebastian thought his tears had interfered with his vision. As he watched, Kent’s features became Alec’s.
He raised an eyebrow. The second shape-shifter.
He turned a glance on Ian, requesting an explanation. Her face was buried in her sister’s hair. She didn’t see him.
He turned to Alec. His sword lay close by. He could reach it easily if the shape-shifter moved.
“What is this?” His tone made Josephine jump. He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, watching the shape-shifter.
Alec jumped as well. He turned to Sebastian with his sword hanging limp from his hand. “I killed him.” He
sounded shocked.
Sebastian didn’t move. “The pack will have your blood for it. They are loyal to him.”
Alec stared at him, stricken, then smiled. His features blurred again, as if he had been thrust underwater, and Shroud stood where Alec had been. The change happened nearly instantly. Sebastian had wondered how long the transformation might take; if he would know it if he saw it happening or have time to act. He decided he would need practice.
“He who bests the leader becomes the leader himself,” Shroud reminded Sebastian, as if he needed rules quoted at him. “This solves a great deal –”
“You did not call challenge.”
Shroud looked at Sebastian as if he had been slapped. “He would have killed her.” He waved a hand at the pile of dust Specter had become. “What should I have done, waited until he had finished you both?”
“No. I am only telling you the rules. He who bests the leader becomes the leader himself, and the penalty for attacking without calling challenge is death.”
Shroud continued to stare at him. “There’s no reason for them to know what happened.”
“I have sworn oaths,” Sebastian reminded him. “I no longer care for the pack and its doings, but those oaths bind me to them.”
Shroud had no answer to that.
“What have you done with Shroud, that you so casually wear his face?” Sebastian asked. “What makes you so confident that he would not reveal any lies you tell?”
A tiny smile twitched at Shroud’s mouth. An eerily familiar gesture. “I always was Shroud.”
Sebastian allowed his mouth to curl in a frown. Josephine murmured against his wrist, her swallows less intense now. His first thought was that this creature had to be lying. Sebastian had trained Shroud. He had first met Alec only nights ago – but so much had happened that he did not understand.
“Explain,” Sebastian demanded, keeping a close eye on his sword.
The creature sighed, as Sebastian had seen Shroud do many times before. A ripple of unease went through him.
“I wanted to find Kent,” Shroud said. “I knew Specter was trying to find him, and I thought perhaps, if I could spy on them, I might find out what they knew and beat them to Kent. To save him. So I joined them, as Shroud. And eventually Specter did find Kent, and sent Malison to kill him. I came too, under the pretense of winning more territory in Europe.” His face darkened. “I didn’t reach Kent in time. At first I thought you had killed him – but Ian said something about another shape-shifter. I must admit, I did not know there were more.”
In the Dark Page 36