Last Vamp Standing

by Kristin Miller

  Ariana plopped down, resting her head on her hands. “This can’t be happening.”

  “His love for you is strong and pure, Ariana. It’s enough to bring you through this if you let him.”

  Ariana’s gaze shot to Eve’s. “What do you mean, if I let him?”

  “He has done all he can do. Now the decision is yours to make. You’re in the first stages of the Valcdana and will learn much before it is time to go back.”

  Valcdana was the vampires’ oldest and most revered mating ceremony. Reserved for couples who want to pay the ultimate price, their blood and their life, for an eternity with their partner. In most instances though, the Valcdana led to death.

  “Yes, Ariana,” Eve said, reading her thoughts. “But to every yin in this world, there is a yang. Where the Valcdana is blackened by the possibility of death, the enlightenment that you are about to undertake sheds new light.”

  “If we make it that far.” Ariana’s stomach tightened. “I’ve only known a handful of vamps who were strong enough to bring their partners through the rite.”

  “You think it’s chance that some men drain their women and are unable to bring them back?” Eve shook her head, releasing a few blonde tendrils from her bun. “It has nothing to do with chance, or even the strength of the men. It has everything to do with why the ceremony was started in the first place.”

  Ariana never cared much for the details of the Valcdana. Had never really cared to know much about anything related to being bound to another person for all eternity. Now, as she tried to grasp the details, they were sketchy and unclear. “The Valcdana begins during mating. It’s not difficult to understand the why of it. Bloodlust takes over everything.”

  “It’s more than that. If a man takes the vein of his partner, draining her out of pure lust or because he hungered for the passion of her body rather than the passion of her heart, the woman passes to the Ever After and remains here. If a man drains his partner out of love—pure, brilliant love with the intent of being bound together as one—the Valcdana can be completed as it was designed. The woman is brought back to her lover’s arms.”

  That dug up a whole heap of problems. Dante had issues dealing with his hunger from the first day she met him, though Ariana didn’t realize he’d hungered for her soul then. He could barely restrain his urges long enough to be in the room with her for an hour, let alone a lifetime.

  From the passion behind his kiss, the way it lit a fire in her core and seemed to enflame one in his, how could Ariana tell if he drained her because he lost control or because the depth of his love catapulted them into Valcdana territory?

  “Come,” Eve said, standing. She really was regal in this place and moved with effortless grace. Like she didn’t walk but glided over the mist-soaked ground. “Would you walk with me, Ariana? I’m supposed to tell you more before he gives you his vein.”

  Ariana followed Eve down a narrow winding trail that led to a fountain. A massive stone angel perched in the center, her legs crossed as she dipped a dainty toe into the water.

  “I know all about the voices that plague Dante and the crosses in his blood line. But you have to trust that his love for you is pure. If you do that, you can focus on what you have come here to learn.”

  Ariana nodded slowly as her heart stilled. She trusted Dante more than anyone she’d ever met. She trusted him with her life. Her heart.

  “Don’t you want to be at his side for all eternity?”

  There was nowhere else she’d rather be than at his side. More now than ever before.

  “Then you must know what you do for him. What you do to him.” Eve picked up a pebble and stroked its flat, gray surface. “You are a healer, Ariana. You always have been. You believe you pull from Black Moon, that Black Moon’s healing energies are the source of your powers. You believe you are just another insignificant pebble in Black Moon’s sparkling pool.” She flicked the pebble in her hand into the fountain. It falling-leafed its way to the bottom as ripples spread through the water and washed against the angel’s toe. “You couldn’t be more wrong. Your energy, your healing and your light feed into Black Moon.”

  A breeze swept across her arms, reminding her of the brand her haven had left behind. Rolling her lace gloves down to her wrist, Ariana stroked the raised lines of the crescent. “I’ve felt anchored to the place since the first time I projected from there. Black Moon is a part of me as much as I’m a part of it.”

  Ariana’s gaze flittered to the ripples of water as they reached the far end of the fountain and echoed back again.

  “Your healing energy has brushed upon every elder you’ve astral-projected to the haven. You’ve made them healthier and more whole. You’ve eased their doubts and confirmed their dreams and beliefs. From that single projection, you healed their every wound and forgave every piece of baggage that they carried through their transition.”

  Ariana braced herself on the edge of the fountain. No wonder the elders treated her with such awe-inspired reverence. How could she have known she was influencing them in such a way? Everything she’d ever known was flipping topsy-turvy.

  “Dante was right,” she thought aloud, skimming her fingers over the branded sword on her arm. “Only I’ve dusted onto them, instead of them onto me.”

  “You would have realized it sooner, but you didn’t want to open your eyes and see. There are other things, too. Other things you’ve been blind to.”

  Interest piquing, Ariana took her gaze off the angel, who seemed to be staring right at her, and leveled it on Eve.

  “What else.” It was a statement. A demand. If this was her enlightenment, then damn it, she wanted to hear everything.

  Eve smiled, like she’d been waiting for the enthusiasm all along. “Without you, Black Moon wouldn’t have a barrier at all. You are the barrier, the healing force behind its walls keeping it hidden.”

  A twinge of denial pricked Ariana’s side. “You don’t know a thing about Black Moon. You’ve only been here two days. How would you know what keeps it hidden?”

  Eve’s sweet smile remained fixed, irritating Ariana all the more. “It’s my job to bring elders to this side. It’s my job to know the workings of the place where the majority of them are hidden. But it wasn’t until it was revealed that I would take part in your enlightenment that most of this was brought to light . . . pardon the pun.”

  Sounded honest enough, and Eve had no real reason to pull Ariana’s chain about something this serious.

  “How is it possible?” Ariana’s wind punched out of her sails. “How can I do anything to keep Black Moon safe? Fleshing out the elders’ mawares inside the haven walls is the only thing we’ve found that can do that.”

  “No.” Impatience flared in Eve’s blue eyes. “That’s what your Primus told you, what he wanted you to believe.”

  Eve picked up another pebble and handed it to Ariana. She took it and turned it over, then dropped it into the water. The pebble smacked the surface with a heavy kerplunk and sank right to the bottom. Ripples spread hard and fast, sloshing against the angel’s foot.

  Ariana traced the logic from Eve’s words back to the first talk she’d had with her Primus about astral-projecting. He’d said she needed to use her maware to bring newly transitioned elders to Black Moon. That it was the only way to keep the haven safe—the only way to keep him safe, too.

  But what if their safety didn’t depend on the elders at all?

  “If my healing energy dusted onto the elders when I projected them to Black Moon,” she said, piecing together the puzzle, “then each time I project, it’s reinforcing the walls. It doesn’t have anything to do with the elders fleshing out their mawares.”

  Eve smiled and leaned over into the fountain, her red dress flaring out over the stone rim like a lake of fire. “Now you’re getting it.”

  “Damn it, he could’ve just told me,” Ariana sai
d as anger flushed her cheeks. “I risked getting staked every time I teleported into the black market to bring back an elder. If it was only my projecting that reinforced the barrier, I could’ve projected to a thousand places in the forest without the damned risk!”

  “But that wouldn’t have helped your Primus in the least,” Eve said, pointing into the sparkling crystal waters of the fountain. “Look and enlighten yourself completely.”

  Ariana leaned over the side and peered deep into the water, past the flat stone bottom to an image that slowly surfaced. An image she’d seen before.

  The center ring in the black market.

  Thick swags of fabric dropped from the ceiling onto the raised stage. Velvet chairs lined the ring auditorium-style with a blacked-out elevated section for regular high bidders. Curling upward to the left was a spiral staircase that led to Juan Carlos’s private quarters.

  Seeing the stage in the market once more, even as an enchanted image from the safety of the Ever After, didn’t sit well with Ariana. She cringed remembering how Juan Carlos had caught her downstairs—she’d just projected and had been too disoriented to get up to speed with what had been going down—and how he’d demanded that she give her name to the screaming bidders.

  But it was also where she’d set her sights on Dante for the first time. He’d stood right there near the bumper, blocking the stage from the seats. He’d captured her with a single smoldering glance, a look that had shimmered with sincerity and weakness despite the strength radiating off him in hot, heady waves.

  The image in the water came to life, rippling with sound and movement, air and life. Ariana let herself be swept away into the current, carried into the revelation.

  “Make it fast,” a gravelly voice boomed from somewhere above the stage. “Doors open in less than an hour.”

  It sounded like Juan Carlos, all the business savvy of a snake. Her blood chilled at the husk of his voice. She remembered with too much clarity the impact he’d had on her and the resulting sting on her cheek.

  “Whatever arrangement we had before, it’s over. We’re through.” It was Ariana’s Primus. She could make out the condescending baritone anywhere.

  “I told your messenger the same thing I’m telling you. Breaking our commitment isn’t that simple. We have a deal.”

  “Had a deal,” her Primus corrected.

  “Is that why you finally came out of the safety of your Black Moon cocoon? To pound it through my skull? Well, you can forget it. You’re not scaring me any more than your guppy did.” Papers rustled. A door closed. “I get the message you want out, but it’s not happening.”

  “You broke the agreement.”

  “I didn’t break shit,” Juan Carlos hissed. “My therian guards said three escaped from the rooms downstairs. You got two elders and a piggyback. Count yourself lucky I let three leave, and shut your trap.”

  “Your guards are imbeciles. The two elders who came back to Black Moon don’t count as part of our arrangement. One was Ariana, the elder who’s supposed to bring your elders back to my haven, the other was a damned Watcher, and one was an elder who didn’t belong here. They brought that one with them.”

  “Don’t see how that’s my problem.” Footsteps pounded down the stairs. Four stomps, two sets of feet. They were alone. “I told you from the start that if we catch your lady-projector, we gotta make it real. We’ll sell her the same as any other. How am I supposed to know which elder is yours from the one she’s takin’ back to you?”

  Juan Carlos knew all along. That’s why she’d been able to get in and out of the black market so easily. He’d been expecting her. Part of the deal.

  Ariana scowled as her Primus descended the final stair and stood in the entry, his shoulders brushing the frame. Every fiber of her being wanted to jump through the image and rip his head off. He’d betrayed her. Sent her into the black market full knowing what would happen if she got caught.

  And for what?

  So she could strengthen Black Moon’s barrier? No . . . there had to be more to it than that.

  Juan Carlos descended the final stair, meeting her Primus on equal footing. His hair was slicked back, his midnight-black robe sweeping the floor.

  “Here’s the thing, Primus, I don’t care who you are or what haven you call home.” He took a giant step forward until the two egomaniacs were chest to chest. “We’re gonna keep playing it my way. I’ll keep tracking down elders and bringing them here to auction off. You’ll buy whoever you see fit and keep this place underground.”

  Is that why the black market was hidden, only accessible to those in an elite, inner circle of slimy clientele? Because her Primus was using Ariana’s maware to dust onto it, too? Hatred boiled hot in her stomach.

  As Eve began to pull on Ariana’s shoulder, to coax her out of the image and back to the Ever After, Ariana shrugged her off.

  She couldn’t leave until she figured out what was missing.

  Why would her Primus care to keep the black market running and hidden if he didn’t need the elders to keep Black Moon safe?

  “Tell you what I’m going to do, Juan.” Her Primus scowled so menacingly, heat radiated through the image. “I’ll keep this place hidden for you so you can keep up the dealings you’ve got goin’ on behind closed doors. But my Ariana isn’t projecting here again. Your guards let a Watcher get by, and now my whole operation is threatened. If you keep tracking elders, do it for yourself, not for me.”

  “Stop being overdramatic. You’ve already secured your army of elders. No one is going to touch your precious haven.”

  As Juan Carlos crossed the stage and jerked open a narrow closet door, her Primus followed step for step, one arm held awkwardly behind his back. When Juan pulled out a cane from inside the shadowed belly of the closet, Ariana couldn’t help but stare at its warped shape. It was charred black with the head of an open-mouthed dragon at the top. Two ruby-jeweled reptile eyes stared up from the sides, right into Juan’s hand. Who would’ve thought a greaseball like Juan Carlos would own something so downright warlockish?

  “That’s just it,” her Primus said, stepping closer still. “Now that I’ve built my army of elders and I’ve got Ariana squashed under my thumb, no one is going to hold leverage over me now. Not even you.”

  Juan Carlos ducked and spun around to dodge the coming blow, but it was too late. Her Primus swung his arm from behind his back, revealing a long, silver blade. With an ear-piercing hiss and a blur of speed, her Primus sliced the blade across Juan Carlos’s throat. Then, when Juan hit the floor, landing in a thick pool of his own blood, her Primus showed his true character.

  He picked up Juan’s charred cane and held it high. Examined the rubies glimmering on the sides. Tucked it under his arm. And whistled “Puff the Magic Dragon” as he walked away.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  NOT IN A million years would Dante ever . . . ever forgive himself.

  He’d called Ruan into the bathroom to see if there was anything he could do to help, to bring her back. Or maybe he just didn’t want to be left alone with his conscience.

  Ever After help him, it was too late.

  “You gotta let go, buddy.” Ruan tried to pry Ariana out of Dante’s arms and got a back-the-fuck-off growl that made the thunderstorm outside sound like pitter-patter. “Okay, maybe another minute.”

  He retreated to the opposite side of the bathroom, but it still wouldn’t be far enough away to survive the wrath churning in Dante’s middle. He was coiled tight, ready to explode. He clutched Ariana’s cold body with a steely death grip. Carried her into her room and laid her on her bed, covering her in blankets.

  “There’s got to be something I can do.” He kneeled beside the bed and pressed his forehead to hers. “She’s got to come back. She’s strong enough to fight through this. She can do it . . . you can do it.”

  “I told you,”
Ruan’s voice droned. “If she returns it has nothing to do with how strong she is. If you killed her because you lost control, she’s long gone. She was probably sipping tea in the Ever After before you covered her up.”

  Here came that growl again, reverberating from Dante’s chest, vibrating the bed, the floor.

  Ruan put a hand on Dante’s shoulder, probably to be sympathetic or some shit. “On the other hand, if you drained her because you love her—”

  “I told you what happened,” Dante snapped.

  Soul. Souring. Silence.

  Ruan blew out a deep breath. “Then we have to wait and see.”

  Dante loved Ariana. With everything he had. But what if it wasn’t enough to bring her back? How could he live with the guilt? With the knowledge of what he did to his one true love, his soul mate?

  With a hiss, Ariana jerked upright. Like she’d been shocked with invisible defibrillator paddles. Then she sank back onto her pillow. Eyes closed. Not breathing.

  “Now!” Ruan said, rushing the bed.

  But Dante knew what to do without having to be told. Raw instinct took over. He bit into the flesh of his wrist until blood ran freely across his lips. Then he sat on the bed, raised her neck up to meet him, and kissed her, smudging blood onto her lips. They were stiff from death’s unrelenting hold.

  “Come on, baby,” he whispered, his forehead pressed against hers.

  Nothing.

  He tore into his wrist, thrashing his fangs near his vein. He let the blood flow like a river down his arm and into her mouth.

  “Damn it, Ariana, come back to me.”

  Desperation peaking, Dante sucked from his own vein. Pulled a mouthful of blood into his cheeks. Then he parted her lips with his and let the blood slide past them, across her tongue and into her cheeks.

  As he pushed his tongue into her mouth, tasting the metallic tang of his blood mixed with the sweet, familiar taste of his life mate, a miracle happened.