by Juniper Hart
“Why?” Lane managed to moan. “Why are you doing this?”
The world darkened around her, and she fell into the blackness, vaguely aware that Marjorie had finished depleting her life.
“It’s nothing personal,” the immortal chirped, wiping the plasma from her face with the back of her hand. “I just hate all the Aldwins, and I’m not a fan of Henry, either. The Council needs an overhaul, even if they can’t see it. I’m just helping matters along.”
Through glassy, half-dead eyes, Lane watched the black cape swirl and disappear the same way it had come, and the sickening realization of what she’d done struck Lane in her final moments.
Marjorie had left her to die in Henry’s office with a vampire bite. Lane would be gone, and Henry would pay the price.
13
A spasm struck Henry’s body, and he froze, a thousand goosebumps prickling his flesh.
Something was wrong. He could feel it in every pore of his body, his heartrate speeding up as he stepped onto the balcony of his penthouse and looked onto the street below.
Something was wrong with Lane.
Even before he could register what he was thinking, his cell rang, and he started at the sound. His eyes widened in shock when he saw who it was.
What the hell is she calling me for at all, let alone at one-thirty in the morning?
“Are you drunk?” he barked into the phone. He heard a sharp intake of breath and a stifled sob.
“Henry…” Sylvie gasped. “You need to get to your office right now.”
His blood turned to ice. “What happened?”
“I can’t talk about this over the phone, just— Just get here. Now.”
She disconnected the call, and Henry was already flying out the door, shifting fully into his bat form. There was no time for the car. The panic he had heard in Sylvie’s voice told him everything he needed to know.
It’s Lane. I know it’s Lane.
It took him less than ten minutes to arrive, and he was up the steps and in his office in the blink of an eye, barely managing to shift back into his mortal form before he greeted Sylvie, who stood shaking at his office door.
“What happ—?” Henry stopped midsentence when he saw Lane, pale and dead on the floor, the puncture marks on her neck unmistakable.
“Oh…” He dropped to his knees. “Oh, Lane…”
“I was leaving Michael’s office, and I saw your door open,” Sylvie blubbered. “You didn’t do this, Henry. Please tell me you didn’t do this!”
“Of course not!” he howled. “Sylvie, get out and tell no one what you saw.”
“I was going to call 9-1-1, but I thought of the firm—”
“GO!” he roared, and she balked, stepping back. “Wait outside.” He didn’t turn to see if she had obliged, staring at Lane’s lifeless face. “Who did this?” he muttered. “Oh, Lane, please, wake up!”
Tears of despair and grief filled his eyes. His head dropped onto her chest, and imperceivably, he felt the dullest, erratic heartbeat beneath her sweater.
He raised his head quickly and darted his eyes back toward the door. Sylvie had disappeared. Henry wasted no time.
I have no choice. I have to do this, or she’ll die.
Without hesitation, he gnashed at his wrist, the purple blood spilling from the exposed artery, and he pressed it to Lane’s lips.
“Drink it!” he urged her. “Drink it!”
The streaks fell along her lips, and no matter how he tried to get her to latch onto the wound, Lane was gone.
She’s not gone! he thought furiously. You are not gone! You can hear me, Lane. Drink, dammit!
Marjorie… Lane whispered in her head. Marjorie did this.
Fury swept through Henry.
“You have to drink, my love. Please! Just a sip, Lane…”
Can’t… not allowed…
“Screw the rules!” he hollered. “DO IT, LANE!”
“Henry,” Sylvie tentatively called.
“Sylvie, GET OUT!” Henry yelled, his head spinning in the panic and confusion. He hoped that Sylvie had not seen what he was doing, but she was the least of his worries in that moment.
Please, Lane. We’ll deal with the aftermath… Please, I can’t lose you.
Slowly, he felt Lane’s lips close around the deep cut he’d made, and he exhaled in relief. It seemed to take hours, but the waxy parlor of her skin lightened to a pale pink, and then Henry could see her chest rising and falling again.
Henry’s body sagged, and he pulled his arm away from her mouth, waiting for Lane’s eyes to flutter open. It was only when they did that he regained full control of his breathing.
“There you are,” he whispered, drawing his face toward hers. “I thought I’d lost you.”
A bemused smile touched Lane’s lovely features, and she sat up suddenly, shaking her head.
“I guess witches aren’t as easy to kill as all that,” she replied. There was an amused lilt to her voice which hadn’t been there previously, and Henry knew he had forever changed Lane to save her life. “We’re in a lot of trouble,” she sighed, looking around the office.
“Lane?”
“Shit,” Henry muttered. He turned from his crouched position and looked at Sylvie. Her face was as pale as Lane’s had been in near-death.
“Lane, you’re… you’re okay?” the blonde muttered. She seemed torn between wanting to run and wanting to hug the girl on the floor.
“I must have passed out,” Lane said smoothly, jumping to her feet with too much agility. “Did you find me?”
“I…” Sylvie faltered, taking in the blood on Henry’s arm. “I’m… glad you’re okay.”
She looked desperately toward the door, and Henry realized he had to let her go, no matter what she’d seen.
“Thank you for calling me, Sylvie. You did the right thing.” The paralegal nodded but didn’t speak.
“There’s no need to tell anyone what happened here, Sylvie,” Lane told her quietly. “It was just a misunderstanding.”
Again, Sylvie bobbed her head. “I should go.”
“Yes,” Lane and Henry agreed in unison.
She sprinted away from them.
Lane let out a sigh. “We’re all going to pay for this.”
“Not if no one finds out,” Henry said urgently. “I’ll go before the Council and tell them that you were attacked by Marjorie and that she turned you.”
“I’m still going to die as a result. And Sylvie is going to die if anyone finds out what she’s seen. You should have left me to die, Henry.”
“You’re out of your mind if you think I would do that. Why did Marjorie do this? What did she say to you?”
Lane looked away.
“I have no idea,” she said. Henry could instantly tell she was lying.
“You’re withholding something from me,” he snapped. “After all this, I think I’m owed a little trust.”
“It doesn’t matter now,” Lane insisted. “I need to tell the Council what I’ve become. Maybe we can plead ignorance and say we have no idea how I was turned.”
“That’s been tried before,” Henry said. “It’ll still result in your death.”
“Well, what are we supposed to do now, Henry?” she demanded. “We can’t hide this forever!”
“You can hide until the next Council meeting, at the very least. You can’t let Marjorie see you obviously.”
“I can’t go home,” Lane sighed.
“Why not?” She didn’t reply, and Henry had a sinking feeling that Julia had something to do with what had happened. “Lane?”
“I told my mom I was moving out before I left.”
“How did you even come to be here tonight?” Henry questioned. “Did Marjorie force you here?”
Lane shook her head. “No… but she has your Council phone. She sent me a text from your number, claiming that there was a meeting here. Then she picked me up in her car and drove me here.”
“That bitch!” Henry swore. “S
he is going to pay endlessly for this, mark my words!”
“We need to get out of here, Henry. There are cameras everywhere.”
Henry grinned sardonically. “You’re a vampire now, love. There’s no need to worry about being caught on tape.” He extended his hands toward her and drew her into a tight embrace. “Lane, I thought you were dead.”
“Don’t worry, my love. There’s plenty of time for that yet.” Lane smiled grimly at him, and he shook his head.
“I told you already that I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” Henry reminded her, “and I mean it. You’re not going anywhere, and neither am I.”
“We’ll see,” she sighed. “Let’s just take this one step at a time. Where are we going tonight?”
“My place,” he told her, “but after we clean up this mess.”
Lane paused for a second and stared at him. “Maybe it’s better to let everyone think I’m dead for a while,” she said quietly. “Just until we can figure out our next step in all this.”
“Why?”
“Marjorie has a plan, obviously,” she began. “Killing me in your office was meant to pin it on you, I’m sure. Why not give her what she wants? She’s obviously got her eye on the Council. I’ll keep an eye on her and figure out what she’s up to. Maybe we can get out of this if we catch her trying to dismantle the Council.”
“It’s a long shot,” Henry warned her.
“It’s just about the only shot we have. We both know what will happen if we come clean right now. If we have something to trade, like a traitor, maybe we’ll be better off.”
Slowly, Henry bobbed his head in agreement. “You’re right. If Marjorie thinks you’re gone and I’m out of the way, she’ll probably get overconfident. Let’s nail that bitch to the wall like she deserves.”
14
For one week, Lane lay low in the stunning condo Henry called home. It was a two-storey, open concept apartment, with a library in which Lane could have imagined losing herself forever—if only her life wasn’t endangered.
“I’m going to work as usual,” Henry said. “In a day, I’ll pay a visit to your mother and ask where you are. Let’s get the ball rolling so we can catch Marjorie in the act of trying to sabotage the Seven.”
“What about the Council itself? What if they are trying to get in contact with me?”
“I’m on the Council, too,” he reminded her lightly. “I can reiterate messages to you.”
“I think they should know I am missing, too.”
“They might assume you’ve left because of all the pressure,” Henry explained. “I don’t think we should bring them into the loop yet.”
Frustrated, there was nothing that Lane could do but agree and keep a low profile in the luxurious apartment.
At least I have the internet, she thought wryly, thinking about the twenty years she’d been locked away in the cottage with only her mother.
“Sylvie keeps looking at me funny,” Henry confessed after work one day. “I’m worried that she’ll say something to someone.”
“Like who? Michael?”
“I have no idea,” he replied. “And Marjorie looks at me like the cat who swallowed the canary. I’m afraid I’m going to lose all self control and strangle her with my bare hands.”
“You won’t,” Lane said, gathering him into her arms. “You’re not finished defending Winters yet. You know how bad it will look for the defense counsel in a murder trial to be tried for murder?”
“When you put it that way…”
“You want to hear something funny?” Lane chuckled, but it wasn’t traditionally amusing.
“What’s that?”
“If you hadn’t turned me, I’d be able to put a spell on Marjorie to make her turn herself into the Council.”
Henry’s face grew hard. “We will get Marjorie, and it won’t be through spells. Just so you know, you haven’t lost your powers. That is the reason witches are not allowed to become immortal. You are the most powerful beings, but you kind lives short lives. Your mortality is your weakness, but now that you will not die, the other Enchanted beings are worried about what you will become. I don’t regret changing you, though. I know your heart is good. Besides, if I hadn’t turned you, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now, Lane.”
“I’m not sorry you did,” she told him quickly, sensing the guilt he was feeling like it was in her own chest. “I would have done the same thing if I was you.”
“Yeah?”
Lane wasn’t sure that was true, but she didn’t contradict what she’d said. Instead, she drew her lips against Henry’s, pushing herself onto the balls of her feet to reach his face.
“I think I like kissing you better now that I’m a vampire,” she teased. “My sense of taste is way heightened.”
“Oh, yeah? What about your sense of touch?”
Lane pushed her lips back toward him, taunting him with a quick joust of her tongue, and slid her hands around the back of his body, cupping his rear firmly in her hands.
Something had changed in her when Henry had turned her, something more important than simply her immortal status. She felt emboldened, stronger, restless. The little scared girl had become a woman, and Lane embraced her as she danced her lover back toward the bed of their shared room.
Henry fell back onto the bed as Lane slipped her hands out to unbutton his shirt, the passion inside her ignited instantly.
He is my mate. We will die together if that’s what it comes to.
“No thoughts like that during sex,” he muttered, but she silenced him with a hard kiss, drawing her skirt up over her hips. The feeling of his hardness only stirred Lane more, and she bit on Henry’s lower lip as her hands fumbled to lower his pants around his knees.
“Vampire you is certainly more brazen.” Henry gasped when her hand closed around his pulsing manhood. Lane giggled, sliding herself over him, and suddenly he was filling her, a solid thrust making her cry out.
“We will go down together,” Henry swore, his hands reaching up to cup her swollen breasts. “I’ll never leave you.” Again, Lane crushed her lips to his, and before she could brace herself, Henry flipped her onto her back, his thrusts becoming hard and frantic.
Their lovemaking was filled with mild panic, fear, and desire for one another and for the future.
If I am going to die, Lane thought, at least I’ll go knowing that I was loved, that I experienced life, and that Henry was willing to die for me, too.
Henry tensed, and Lane exploded against him, their forms so close, they seemed to be one.
“I love you, Lane,” Henry muttered in her ear. “I hope you know that, no matter what happens.”
Spent and content, Lane smiled at him. “I would think you did,” she replied, teasingly. “Or else you are a very foolish man.”
“I am a foolish man,” he agreed. “Foolishly in love with you.”
Sadness touched Lane’s heart, and she stared at him for a long moment.
“Henry,” she said, “I’m going to turn myself into the Council and tell them that Marjorie turned me. It’s the only hope we have. They might show mercy on me for being attacked.”
“And if they don’t?”
“Well, at least I know I have our two votes, right?” She was trying to be lighthearted, but it was difficult, knowing that she was talking about her own execution.
The landline rang, a double ring, and Lane tipped her head in confusion.
“What is that?”
“That’s the concierge.” Henry looked equally perplexed as he snatched up the phone from the bedside table. “Hello?” His eyes widened. “Uh… yeah, Send her up.” He hung up and turned to Lane. “It’s Sylvie.”
“I’ll deal with her,” Lane said, jumping to collect her discarded clothing. “We can’t let her say anything—for all of our sakes.”
“Maybe you should just stay here,” Henry said nervously.
“No, Henry. She likes me more than you.”
&nb
sp; He nodded, smirking slightly. “That’s true…”
The doorbell rang, and they looked at one another.
“Come on,” Henry sighed. Together they rushed down the stairs to greet Sylvie.
The paralegal stood uncomfortably in the doorway, appearing reluctant to come inside.
“Hi, Lane, Henry,” she breathed. “Sorry to pop by unexpectedly, but I think I did something bad.”
“Bad?” the couple echoed.
“Bad how?” Lane asked, gesturing for her to come out of the hallway. Sylvie looked at them nervously but stepped across the threshold, where she stood, her back stiff.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I know I promised not to say anything, but…”
Dread seized Lane’s gut, and she stared at Sylvie, eyeing her lover in her peripheral vision. Henry seemed just as distraught as she felt.
“What did you say and to whom?” he demanded.
Sylvie inhaled deeply. “You have to understand, Henry, I’ve known about you and Marjorie for a long time.”
Henry’s head whipped around to look at Lane cautiously.
“I don’t know what you mean,” he lied. Sylvie shot her eyes downward.
“You’re probably literally going to murder me where I stand, but I need you to know what I did because I have a bad feeling about this.”
“Sylvie,” Lane said patiently. “Just tell us what happened.”
“I told Marjorie that she hadn’t killed you, Lane,” Sylvie said. “I just… hate that bitch so much, and I wanted to wipe that stupid smug look off her face!”
“How did you know she was the one responsible?” Lane wanted to know.
“I heard you and Henry talking after he…” Sylvie paused. “Revived you.”
“Shit!” Henry bellowed. “Do you know what you’ve done, Sylvie?”
“I have no idea,” she confessed miserably. “But instead of looking defeated, she looked even happier, and then she disappeared from the office. I haven’t seen her all day.”
“Get her out of here, Henry,” Lane said suddenly, her eyes growing huge. “They’re coming, and they’ll be coming for her, too.”