by Kresley Cole
“Why would Lothaire cast me off like this? ‘Rot in hell?’ What was that?”
“I know, right! Over one near decapitation? Unfortunately, he’s still stewing—could stew for decades. Time doesn’t mean the same thing to the very old. Think of it this way: Lothaire has lived so long that three weeks would feel like scant hours. His internal clock is telling him he’s been away from you for an afternoon.”
“So I should just wait for him to see reason? After that package, why would I want to be with the unbalanced undead?”
“Well, don’t forget that he came to me for help to save you. Considering that he loathes me—thinks I betrayed him—this was huge.”
“Did you betray him?”
“Yes. Often.” She shrugged. “Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind.”
“I don’t follow—”
Nïx shoved her into the front yard, into the light of a blazing afternoon sun. “Flap your wings, little butterfly!”
Ellie traced back in; the wraiths tossed her back out. She hunched and hissed, but her skin . . . wasn’t burning.
“What is this, Valkyrie?” She stared at her unmarked arms. “How is this possible?”
“Did you hear Lothaire when he made his wish to turn you?”
Ellie shook her head slowly.
“He’s exceedingly bright. Surely he would have phrased his wish to, say, ‘make Elizabeth a vampire with all their strengths and none of their weaknesses.’ ”
Lothaire had told her he had a surprise for her. He had listened to her when she’d told him how much she would miss the sun.
And he’d given her a gift no other man could.
All the sunrises for eternity.
Unfortunately, she’d all but beheaded him before he could present his offering to her.
She raised her face to the light, still in disbelief. I’m truly free.
After years of captivity, of answering to others, she could go wherever she liked, do whatever she pleased. She could travel the world—without fear of burning.
But Lothaire’s selfless gift—after all, he could never enjoy it with her—only reminded Ellie that there had been a chance between them. When tears welled, she dashed them away, embarrassed for Nïx to see.
Needing her family, if only just to watch them from a distance for a spell, Ellie collected her bag and hastily waved good-bye to Val Hall, to the wraiths, to Nïx.
“Adieu, Queen Ellie!” the Valkyrie called.
“Thank you for everything, Nïx.” Ellie shrugged into her hoodie, pulling it over her head, just in case someone happened to spot her. Then she traced to the woods near her mother’s trailer.
The forest blanketing the mountain was old growth, the pines and hardwoods so dense that sunlight barely reached the moist ground—not that she had to worry about that any longer. As she strolled along familiar paths, she gazed up, watching the taller treetops rake a steady ridgeline breeze.
Her senses were so acute now. Here, she could smell the very earth. The sound of the cicadas was like a roar in her ears.
Every time she stepped on green pine needles, their crisp scent erupted. A bite of evergreen.
Like Lothaire’s scent.
Don’t think about him, Ellie! Look forward, never dwell.
From the edge of the woods, she spied her old trailer, finding it dingier than ever in the daylight. The aroma of cooking food carried from within. Though no longer appealing to her appetite, it smelled like home.
How would she ever be able to leave this mountain again? She knew she couldn’t stay, but where could she go?
Ellie briefly considered living in one of the exotic locales Lothaire had taken her to. And how exactly would I get blood from Bora-Borans—
Oh, there was Josh! He played with some of his cousins on a broken-down, rusted swing set.
Look how much he’s grown! His dark hair had more of an auburn tint than hers did, but their eyes shared the same color.
How she’d missed her baby brother! As she watched him, she got lost in memories of him as a chubby toddler, recalling how he’d barreled around the trailer like a Weeble, always leading with his stubborn chin.
Those tears of hers gathered and spilled—
“Hands where I can see ’em, or I’ll blow your head off!”
Uncle Ephraim. In the woods behind her.
She froze. Oh, my God! So much for not making contact with her family.
And he was such a quick trigger, she wondered if she could even trace away before a bullet plugged her. Trace away to where, Ellie?
“Hands up, I said!”
She dropped her grocery bag, raising her hands. “It’s me, Uncle Eph. It’s Ellie.” She eased around, then uncovered her head.
His weather-beaten face paled, his wide jaw slackening as he lowered his gun. “Ruth!” he yelled in the direction of the trailer. “Ruth, come quick, your daughter’s losing her eyes!”
Ellie cried, “What?” Oh, the tears! “Wait, I’m not losing my eyes! Don’t call her—”
Too late. Mama came charging out in her house slippers, nearly tripping down the steps. “What is it?” She shoved her thick red hair out of her face, tossing a cigarette.
Ephraim covered Ellie’s shoulder with his callused hand. “Just stay calm, girl, and we’ll get you to a hospital fast as lightning.”
“I’m fine. This is just how I cry now.” As if that made any sense.
But when her mother reached them, she took one look at Ellie and shook her head sadly. “Ellie Ann, are them tears? What’d that feller do to you?”
When Josh came bounding toward them, Ellie whirled around. “Send him down the mountain. I don’t want him to see me like this!”
Mama headed him off, shooing him back to his friends, then said to Ellie, “You best come in.”
She nodded, and the three of them trudged to the trailer in silence. Inside, once her mother got a closer look—her gaze darting over Ellie’s tear tracks, black claws, and small fangs—comprehension dawned.
“Oh, Ellie,” she murmured, “don’t you know that when you lie down with dogs, you get up with fleas?”
She knows what I am! How would she react? Will she shun me? Be disgusted?
“Don’t mean I ain’t gonna love your flea-bitten hide.”
Ellie wanted to sag with relief. When Mama opened her arms, she was tempted to run to her, but stopped herself. “I can’t be hugging anybody yet. I’m kinda strong-like.”
Ephraim gazed back and forth between them. “Ellie, I think you got a heap of talkin’ to do.”
Nodding gravely, she sank onto the living room’s shabby couch, unleashing dog fur and dust motes to float through the sunlight streaming inside. Then she began to outline her new abilities and immortality, her need for blood. . . .
Once she’d finished, Ephraim appeared dazed. “Gonna have to ponder all this awhile. But the fact is: you’re a Peirce. No matter what you got turned into. And we do right by our kin. So just tell us if you’re gonna need”—he swallowed—“to drink or anything. I’ll hunt, help out where I can.”
Mama crossed her arms over her chest, huffily leaning back in her recliner. “I want to know more about the vampire that did this to you.”
So Ellie told them about Lothaire as well—leaving out the mind-blowing sex, of course—summing up with: “And then he gave me his heart in a box and told me to rot in hell. He didn’t even want to talk about what had happened, just sent me a kiss-off!”
“I’ll kill him,” Ephraim grated, his eyes glinting, which made Ellie choke up all over again. When he saw her blood tears, her uncle vowed, “I’ll kill him dead to rights, Ellie Ann. He sets one foot on our mountain and he’s a dead sumbitch.”
57
“ You have a visitor, Lothaire,” Hag called.
“A visitor? In my supposedly hidden kingdom?” He bared his fangs at Stelian, who merely raised his brows. “By all means, show in my uninvited guest.”
It was Nïx, carrying a small
gift box.
“How did you get in here, Valkyrie?”
She peered around, golden eyes wide, then whispered, “Get in where?” Her hair was windblown, and she had dark smudges under her eyes. She wore a crinkled peasant blouse, a long flowing skirt—and one boot.
“You’re getting worse.” Why didn’t he have the energy to hate Nïx as she deserved to be hated? On the island, she’d told him, “There won’t be a next match, vampire.” Because he couldn’t be bothered?
“You were getting better,” she said. “Before. Not so much now.”
“If you’re here to negotiate Elizabeth’s release, save your breath.” An eighth of an inch. Took my goddamned happiness away.
“I’m not. I’m only a messenger from Elizabeth. You sent her your heart in a box, and she responded.”
At once, he traced to Nïx, snatching the package from her. As Lothaire lifted the lid with a sense of dread, Nïx murmured, “Hint: it’s the middle one.”
Elizabeth’s fragile finger. Seeing it severed like this brought on a visceral reaction—pain shooting through his own hand, radiating throughout his regenerated heart.
He closed the lid with a swallow, sentimentally pocketing the package.
“You gave her your heart, and she gave you the bird.” Nïx sighed. “Songs will be written about this.”
Stelian laughed, choking on his mead.
Then Elizabeth truly does hate me.
Don’t give a fuck.
“My coven went wild over this, by the way,” Nïx said. “Absolutely adored that feisty vamp. If I don’t find our queen soon, they’ll probably put her name on the ballot.”
So much for their tormenting Elizabeth. The Valkyries had never seen her coming.
“And now your queen is on to the next chapter of her eternal life.”
Which is, which is . . . ?
No, don’t care! Don’t—
Damn it! He seized Nïx’s arm, then traced her to his private suite, high in the castle. Too late, he remembered the state of his rooms. Since he’d allowed no one inside to clean, they were in . . . disarray.
“Remodeling, vampire?” She surveyed the area, taking in the furniture he’d destroyed and the wall he’d punched so many times it’d finally collapsed.
All because of Elizabeth!
Nïx frowned. “I liked it the way it was before.”
“Before? Naturally, you’ve been here?”
She shrugged. “So you don’t want to know what your Bride is up to?”
Can’t lie. “I haven’t come for her, have I?”
She strolled to the sitting room window, peering out. “Understandable. They say even you are frightened of her. And by they, I mean me. But the rumor’s catching on. You’ll thank me for that later,” she promised, sauntering to his desk and rooting through papers. “It must have taken you days to regenerate a heart. All that pain . . . If only I could find a male so romantic.”
“Romantic? It was to mark the end of our relationship. Keep her at Val Hall forever, if you like.”
“Oh, no. She’s gone. Whereabouts unknown.”
His gut tightened. The cloaking tattoo around her ankle had faded with her transformation. Would Elizabeth be safe outside of the wraiths’ guard?
Who was he kidding? She was a vicious female—a vampire who’d taken him down!
“Ellie did mention something about seeing the world.”
He wanted to tell Nïx, “I couldn’t care less,” but his throat burned on the lie. “You do know that there’s a bounty on her head?”
“The one Kristoff posted?”
“Kristoff?” he bit out. The Gravewalker will be receiving a visit from me—
“He’s on walkabout currently. He’ll be back at Oblak in a few weeks. If I remember, I’ll be sure to let him know you’ll be calling on him.”
“Do whatever you like,” he snapped.
“Fear not, very few Loreans would target Ellie. After what I’ve told everyone she did to you? Plus, they know better than to use her as leverage—since you seem not to want her.”
Don’t I? He still reached for her in his bed, only to find himself clasping nothing. Upon every wakening, he roared with frustration, shaken anew that she wasn’t with him.
“You can keep up the façade, Lothaire, pretending how wonderful it is without her. But we both know you miss her.”
“Perhaps I simply miss a female—any female. I wager I’ll be the one vampire who will forsake his Bride and enjoy others.”
Starting today, he would. His plan to install concubines had been delayed by his regenerating heart. Then he’d lost enthusiasm for the idea because his new heart hurt worse than the other. But no more delays.
Nïx examined her claws, as if his statement was the height of absurdity. “Do you know how many times I’ve heard that?”
He traced in front of her, slowly backing her toward the wall. “Ah, flower, would you like me to demonstrate how quickly I’ve forgotten her?” he asked, voice dripping with innuendo.
In a breathless whisper, she said, “Yes. Kiss me, Lothaire.”
He quirked a brow. Could any male turn her down? Nïx was stunning—and apparently willing. He brushed her tangled hair back from her face.
I always knew she wanted me. What female wouldn’t?
Elizabeth. Because I’m ugly on the inside.
Ignoring thoughts about his Bride—and his contentious past with Nïx—he leaned in closer . . . closer. He grinned as he imagined Elizabeth finding out about other females in his life, discovering that he was bedding scores of them without a thought devoted to her.
Not a thought. I’ll kiss Nïx—and it will be better than with Lizvetta.
Better than the night he’d first claimed his Bride, helping her take him inside her body? Better than the night he’d turned her? When she’d kneaded his flesh with her little claws as she’d fed from him?
The way his heart had beat in time with hers . . . the way she always ran circles around him . . . the way her chin would jut stubbornly, her gray eyes fierce . . .
Just before he reached Nïx’s lips, he froze.
Better with the Valkyrie? Fool, it can’t be better.
Rage erupted. “Ahhh!” he bellowed. “It’s her! That bitch has ruined me!”
He punched the wall beside Nïx’s head; she yawned.
“You knew this would happen! You knew we’d never kiss. Yet you said I defied foresight.”
“Doesn’t take a soothsayer to see how much you ache for her, Lothaire. She’s your missing puzzle piece. You’ll never be complete without her, no matter how many ethereally gorgeous Valkyries you bed.”
Elizabeth is my happiness, he thought again. “I could hate her for what she did to me.”
“Because of one unsuccessful beheading?” She tapped her claw to her chin. “Wow. I never thought you were such a pussy. I’m rethinking our friendship.”
He bared his fangs once more. “It’s not about my neck! She betrayed me.” She’d feigned affection for him. For him. “I’ve had enough betrayal in my life. From my father, my uncle, from you.”
“Me?”
“Don’t play coy, Valkyrie. I know of your treachery. You warned Stefanovich of my impending attempt on his life. He listened well.”
She shrugged nonchalantly. “I did tell him—but only after I explained to you that I intended to do exactly that. I repeatedly told you to be patient, to trust me, but you wouldn’t listen. You set out anyway.”
“You were my oldest friend! I never thought you would truly contact him.”
“I acted for your greater good, to turn your fate in a different direction, before tragedy struck.”
“Tragedy?” He turned to pound his fist on his desk and it shattered into splinters, papers flying. “What could possibly have been worse than what occurred? I suffered six centuries of hell because of you! Do you know what it was like in that grave, to have insects boring inside my own living corpse, picking at my flesh? No idea when it
would end . . . the blood tree growing within.” He lurched on his feet, memories threatening to overwhelm him. “It . . . fed. I prayed for death. Anything to make the pain end!”
“If Stefanovich hadn’t caught you, then you wouldn’t have your Bride.”
Inhale for calm. Exhale. Draw from the tie with Elizabeth. “What are you fucking talking about?”
“Have you never wondered why I would betray”—Nïx made air quotes—“you?”
“Because we are natural enemies. Instinctively you despise what I am. It was only a matter of time.”
She perched on the study’s window seat. “If you hadn’t been caught by Stefanovich, you would have died in the Horde invasion of Draiksulia.”
“There was no Horde invasion of the fey plane.”
She snapped her fingers. “Exactly. You, as well as all our Valkyrie allies, were spared. From just a whisper in your father’s ear.”
His lips parted.
“And had you perished then, you never would have made contact with Saroya—who would have killed even more while in Elizabeth’s body, leaving no time for an attempted exorcism.” Nïx’s vacant golden eyes shimmered. “I saw your Bride’s alternate future as clear as day. One fall morning, Elizabeth did the laundry for her mother, folding clothes off the line. Then she took her father’s Remington and walked into the woods alone. She tucked the barrels under her chin. Blood, brain, and bone splattered over leaves.”
He flinched.
“I saw it all. Still think me a betrayer?”
I wouldn’t have Elizabeth if not for Nïx’s actions. He didn’t have her anyway! Then his eyes narrowed. “Why did you leave me so long in the grave? You were there the night Fyodor released me—I saw you in the woods.”
“My foresight doesn’t work with you. I was only able to find you by reading Helen’s fate. You know what she became to you.”
“Yes.” My aunt. “An embarrassment.”
“Speak ill of my dead sister again, Lothaire, and I’ll take my crazy somewhere else.”
“Somewhere outside of Dacia?” He waved his arm. “If you could find this kingdom all along, you might have told me how! I spent centuries searching. As you well knew!”
“You weren’t ready to find it yet. Would you rather have warred with them or become their king by invitation? All it took was patience, which is what I told you again and again. But you never listened to me. You broke the trust between us—not me.”