by Harper Allen
I counted silently to ten. “You didn’t get a good look, but you threw a pointy stick anyway,” I said tightly. “Yes, that was Dr. Maisel, and his wife’s ashes are over there, if anyone’s interested.” I switched my gaze back to Kat, taking her silence for pissed-offness. “Sorry for flying off the handle like that at you, Kat. I owe you big-time, sis.” When she didn’t respond I went on in a mollifying tone, “Just how far away were you when you threw your stake, anyway?”
“Thirty-one strides.” The answer came from Darkheart, but although he was speaking to me, it was Kat his attention was focused on. He was wearing the homespun cloak he’d worn the previous night and as he drew nearer he undid the silver clasp at his neck. Reaching her side, he shrugged off the garment and deftly flung it around her shoulders. “Was very good kill,” he said, his eyes intent on her, “but now you are feeling the reaction, da? Not unusual, granddaughter. Breathe deep in and deep out, as earlier tonight I taught you.”
A shaft of moonlight lit Kat’s features and I suddenly realized that her silence hadn’t been caused by annoyance at me. Her face was chalky white and her eyes were closed. She opened them and looked at Darkheart. “He was a vamp. He had to be killed,” she said faintly. “I know that, so why do I feel like I just committed murder?”
“You do?” Tash’s tone was bright. “Well, with that attitude I can’t see how you could possibly be a Daughter of Lilith. And if you didn’t inherit Mom’s title, that means I’m—”
“Regret is not bad thing,” Darkheart said sharply. “Means merely that chosen one understands burden laid upon her. All vampyrs—” as usual, he pronounced the V like a W, so it came out wamp-eers “—were once human, nyet? Being Daughter of Lilith does not mean you forget this.”
I might as well be honest here and confess that I’ve considered skipping over the next part, since it doesn’t show yours truly in the best light. It might not even be too much of a stretch to say that I come off pretty much as a jealous bitch.
Which was exactly the way I felt right at that moment.
It was obvious Kat was the Daughter of Lilith in this generation of Crosse females. She looked like one, she staked like one, she even, according to Grandfather, felt the way a true D of L should feel. Maybe the official votes weren’t in yet, but unofficially it was crystal clear that Tash and I had been relegated to the status of chopped liver. But at least Tashya had been in the running, however briefly. I hadn’t even been given the opportunity to compete for the title.
“Wicked cool throw, Kat. This must be a custom-made jobbie, huh? Silver-bound grip, precisely weighted.” I picked up her stake from where it lay in Maisel’s ashes, hefting it in my hand as I walked over to where my pitiful basket handle had landed. “When I sent Hetty Maisel’s vamp butt to hell, I had to make do with this piece of crap. I guess that’s what separates the chosen ones like you from schmucks like me, though. You’re given all the training and the equipment and the kudos, and then you get to go all Hallmark-moment afterward.”
Even as the words left my mouth, I realized how immature I was being. Kat had just saved my life. I was acting like an asshole. And in my heart I knew it had absolutely nothing to do with any Daughter-of-Lilith issue.
I hadn’t seen Tashya’s stake come flying out of the dark until it was right in front of my face. It had been humanly impossible to react as I had, and yet the same Megan Crosse who’d barely managed to kill her vamp fiancé by accident, who’d fallen over her own feet while trying to fight off two oldster vamps tonight and come disastrously close to miscalculating Hetty’s staking—that same klutz at killing vamps had reacted with vamplike speed to prevent a stake from entering her. The images I’d envisioned earlier this evening came back to me as Darkheart spoke.
“Is big difference between making kill in defence of your own life and defeating vampyr to save another, granddaughter,” he said, his eyes more hooded than usual as he looked at me. “Your sister acted as Daughters have done since the beginning of—”
“Damn right I killed in defence of my own life!” I broke in, hardly caring what I was saying as long as I kept the images at bay. “I didn’t have an option, seeing as how your shape-shifting sidekick dumped me here tonight and then ran off when the waskelly wampeers showed up—and just as an aside, the word is vampire, okay? Vamp- with a V, -ire with an—”
“I didn’t run off and leave you. I was watching all the time.” Mikhail stepped from the shadows, and in my agitation I felt as if his narrowed gaze could see everything I was trying to keep hidden. I went on the offensive immediately.
“Watching for what? To see if my head or one of my arms got ripped off first? I almost got killed while you were watching!” I turned back to Darkheart. “And if I had, my blood would have been just as much on your hands. When you forced me to witness my mom’s last minutes, I heard you make a solemn vow to her that you’d keep her daughters safe—not just the two you thought might take her place, but all three of Angelica’s triplets. Last time I checked that included me, but at one sniff from Mikey-baby, you decide I’m a wannabe vamp who doesn’t rate even the most basic instructions in how to keep herself alive!” I felt my precarious control eroding. “All your talk about honor and duty is total crap, Darkheart, just like the deathbed promise you gave your daughter! Tashya and Kat can do what they want, but after what happened tonight I wouldn’t attend one of your stupid training sessions if you begged me. And don’t you ever dare call yourself my grandfather again!”
About to turn away, I realized I was still holding two stakes. I held out the silver-bound one to Kat. “You’ll need this,” I said, already regretting that I’d taken out my fears on her. “From that throw you made, I’d say it’s clear you inherited Mom’s role as a Daughter of Lilith. Congratulations, Kat.”
Instead of taking the stake, she grasped my outstretched hand with both of hers. “Believe me, sweetie—Tash and I didn’t know Mikhail brought you here. Grandfather Darkheart didn’t, either.” She shot a look at Mikhail, who gave us a cold stare in return. “That shape-shifting liar told us you refused to take part in the training. I assumed you were still in denial about all this.”
“Me, too,” Tash said. “We decided we’d let you sulk until after our lesson and then show you the stuff we’d learned, like how to do a backflip and twist around in the air so you land facing the other way. But by then you wouldn’t have been impressed by much, I guess, seeing as how you’d have been dead.” She tipped her head to one side. “You can apologize anytime for acting so snotty about my stake-throwing, Meg. I’m the one who saved your ass by finding out you weren’t in your room.”
“Only because she wanted to borrow your Ro & Me lotus clasp to clip her hair back,” Kat elaborated. “And it was Grandfather Darkheart who realized what Mikhail must have done.”
“But not soon enough,” the Russian said harshly. “You are right, granddaughter—if you had died here tonight my hands would have borne your blood. I would have avenged you by the only means possible to me, but that would not have brought you back. I give thanks that what I do now is not done as vengeance for your death, but as an insurance that never again will you be placed in danger by one I trusted. Mikhail!”
“Someone’s in the doghouse,” Tash said in a loud whisper to Kat and me as Mikhail walked slowly toward Darkheart.
“He deserves it,” Kat said. I darted a glance at her set profile as she watched Mikhail come to a halt in front of Darkheart. Her whole attitude seemed different—stronger, without any of her languid mannerisms. She was already growing into the role, I realized disconcertedly. Whether she accepted yet that she was a Daughter, already a distance seemed to exist between her and the woman she’d been twenty-four hours ago…and between her and Tash and me. For the first time it struck me just how lonely the life of a Daughter could be, and I wondered if Kat had already gotten an inkling of that loneliness. Was that why she’d been so shaken by the kill she’d made tonight?
It seemed to be my nigh
t for illogical reactions. I was suddenly angry at Darkheart, not for what Mikhail had done, which I had to accept he’d had no part of, but for his very appearance in our lives. I felt a childish longing to turn the clock back to before he’d told us about our mother and ourselves, but as I saw Kat’s gaze harden I knew how futile my longing was.
I’d expected Darkheart to talk to Mikhail in Russian, but he spoke in English. Since that could only have been for our benefit, I presumed he wanted to reassure us that he wasn’t going to cut Mikhail any slack just because they were friends. “According to ancient contract between oborotni and vladelcy, you have right to plead your case, Mikhail Sergeievich Vostoroff,” he said, his tone distant. “Do you deny you brought granddaughter of mine here with hope that harm would befall her?”
“Yes, vladelec, I do deny,” Mikhail said, his words coldly formal. I was about to jump in and ruin the formality by accusing him of lying through his teeth when he went on, “I brought her here to truly understand what she will become. I thought if she did, there was a chance she would make the decision I myself would make if I ever were infected by a—”
“You do not know!” the older man roared, his hooded eyes flashing with anger. “I have told you, is in some old books written about possibility that one mark is not enough to lay vampyr curse.”
“I know you want to believe that,” Mikhail shot back, heat replacing his former coolness. “The Queen forced you to kill your daughter and you’d do anything to convince yourself she hasn’t made it necessary for you to do the same to one of your granddaughters. That fear is clouding your mind to your most important responsibility—to keep this generation’s Daughter of Lilith safe until she comes fully into her powers!” He exhaled tensely. “I couldn’t allow your conflict to sway me from my prime responsibility. You yourself speak of the contract that exists between a shape-shifter and the one he is bound to. Have you forgotten that my reason for being what I am is to act as a sword and a shield for the one I serve?”
“Your reason for being is to follow my command,” Darkheart said with chilling softness. “I forbade you to act on your instincts about the eldest of my daughter’s daughters. You disobeyed. You know the penalty, wolf.”
I was close enough to see a muscle jump at the side of Mikhail’s hard jaw. He could have been right up there on my man-candy scale, I thought, with those linebacker shoulders and long muscular legs and ripped-looking biceps. The midnight-black silvertipped hair didn’t hurt, either, and neither did those amazing eyes. But as gorgeous as he was, he had one drawback that made him non-babe material in my eyes: he wanted me dead. Maybe not tonight—for some reason, I believed what he’d told Darkheart—but he certainly wasn’t willing to wait too long.
Which, since he was convinced I was a vamp, was understandable, I suppose. It was also understandable that I hoped whatever penalty Darkheart had in mind was going to be really, really extreme—like being sent back to Mother Russia with his tail between his legs, so to speak.
“I know the penalty,” Mikhail assented. “I accept it, as all those who violate the ancient contract must.” His eyes held Darkheart’s a moment longer, like a wolf staring down an eagle, and then he bowed his head.
“Oh. My. God.” Beside me Tash sucked her breath in. “Mr. Tall Dark and Wolfey is stripping.” Her gaze was fixed on Mikhail. “Totally terrible about him setting you up as a vamp target, sis, but you’ve got to admit the man is yummy-looking.”
Since I’d just been thinking the same thing, I really wasn’t in any position to snap at her. I did, anyway. “He isn’t dropping his laundry for your benefit, birdbrain.” He’d finished unbuttoning his shirt and now he pulled it free of his belt. Moonlight gleamed on the skin of his bare stomach and delineated every single one of his six-pack abs. I swallowed dryly. “He’s taking off his shirt for a perfectly obvious reason,” I continued, trying to keep my voice even as I watched his broad shoulders lift slightly and then fall while his shirt dropped to the ground behind him. “Darkheart’s going to banish him back to Russia or something.”
Kat glanced my way. “So why’s he getting naked?” she asked. “Or half-naked. The jeans are staying on, it seems.” Her hard expression of a moment ago had been replaced by a frown. “Merde, don’t tell me the penalty is a whipping.”
My stomach had been fluttering in an anticipatory way. The fluttering stopped with a lurch. “Oh, no,” I said, sickened by the possibility. “That would be just too feudal, wouldn’t it?”
“Two Russkies talking about ancient contracts, disobeying commands, accepting punishment?” Tash pointed out. “Seems to me feudal would be right up their alley. I don’t think I’ll stick around to watch the perform—”
“Bare your neck, Misha.” As Darkheart’s unsteady order cut across Tash’s nervous words I jerked my gaze to the two men standing a few feet away. Or at least, Darkheart was standing, a terrible sadness etched on his face. Mikhail was on his knees, his arms hanging loosely at his sides. His head was still bowed, but at the older man’s command he slowly raised it and just for a second those golden eyes met and held my disbelieving gaze.
Then Mikhail’s head lifted higher. He looked straight up at the moon in the night sky and closed his eyes. I saw a vein throb at the side of his neck, saw his hands clench at his sides, saw him give an almost imperceptible nod.
“Carry out your duty as it is written, vladelec,” he said in a low voice. “Thrust the knife in deep and release my soul.”
“What the—” Kat exclaimed beside me as Darkheart, his features stony, raised his arm high. In his hand I saw the ugly gleam of a curved blade. I heard Tash give a horrified gasp but I didn’t wait to hear more.
“Are you people crazy?” I yelled as I ran straight at Darkheart. I half turned as we connected, and felt my hip smash into him as the knife began to come down in a glittering arc. He fought to keep his balance, but against a hundred and nineteen pounds of running female—okay, a hundred and twenty-two if we’re being picky about it—his efforts were futile. The two of us went down, I gave a yelp as my banged-up knee cracked hard against Hetty and Theo Maisel’s headstone, and the side of my face skidded through something greasy before coming to a stop on the grass where I’d fallen. A curved and shining blade thunked into the sod an inch from my face.
I’d thought finding myself in a graveyard with a shape-shifter had been the final straw. Then I’d thought Mikhail deserting me had been. I’d changed my mind when I’d realized I was facing two vamps, and I’d changed my mind once more when Tash’s stake had nearly taken my eye out. But now I knew for sure that I’d reached my personal limit. I wrenched Darkheart’s handy-dandy throat-slitter from where it was lodged in the ground and jumped to my feet.
“I’ve had it!” I bellowed. Knife in hand, I pivoted to face Mikhail, who had started to rise from his knees. “Don’t move!” I ordered. I swung back to see Darkheart attempting to stand. “You stay where you are, too!”
“To interfere is total violation of all laws which govern bond between oborotni and vladelcy,” he said, “between shape-shifter and master. You know nothing of what you are…” He scowled at Mikhail. “How in English is nee da dyeloni?”
“You don’t understand what you’re fucking up here,” Mikhail translated for me. He looked at Darkheart. “I get the feeling she doesn’t really care.”
“Oh, I care, all right,” I retorted grimly. “I care that you two think you can bring your old-world shit here and drop it on me and my sisters. I care that my mother’s father is giving a pretty good impression of a homicidal maniac. I care that you—” I nailed Mikhail with a glare “—took it upon yourself to set me up just to make a point, but as jerky as you are, I won’t see you get your throat cut over it. Send him back to Russia,” I told Darkheart. “As long as he’s not around to pull any more stunts like tonight, I’m satisfied. And as for you, you’re not getting this knife back until I’m convinced you won’t use it on the next person who breaks one of your stupid rules.”
“You go, girl,” Tash peered at me. “Yuck, did you know you have vamp-goo on your face?”
“Vamp what?” I began, and then revulsion flooded through me. “Somebody get this stuff off me now!” I said rapidly, thinking back to my slide through Maisel’s greasy ashes and trying to remember whether my mouth had been open at the time. Producing a tissue, Kat stepped up and briskly wiped my face clean.
“Don’t look now,” she informed me in a mutter, “but I’m not sure your lecture convinced Grandfather and Mikhail. I think they’re about to go at it again.”
I turned. She was right. Darkheart and Mikhail were both on their feet and talking in agitated Russian, but I didn’t need a translator to see from Darkheart’s stubborn expression and Mikhail’s furious disbelief that they were arguing. As I was about to step in again, Darkheart drew himself up to his full height—which at about six feet was impressive, but still left him looking up at Mikhail. He made a gesture with his hands that seemed to encompass me and his voice rose in volume.
Whatever he was saying, I was pretty sure he wasn’t speaking Russian anymore. It didn’t sound like any language I’d ever heard, and from the goosebumps that suddenly pebbled my skin, I was thankful I hadn’t. The words seemed to creak rustily as they left his mouth, as if they hadn’t been spoken for centuries.
Darkheart’s voice rose to a crescendo. Mikhail’s face went deathly pale. The older man brought his upraised arms down and pointed at me with one hand and Mikhail with the other.
“Hey, wait a minute,” I began, but just then Darkheart stopped speaking and clapped his palms sharply together. I jumped, feeling as if I’d just stuck a fork into a toaster. I saw a similar shudder pass through Mikhail. Darkheart nodded.
“Is good,” he declared. “Now we go home, get sleep, da? Tomorrow is much to do—more training, this time with granddaughter Megan, brief studying of history and legends, further persuasion of Crosse grandparents to go on cruise so they are out of danger from—”