“Vampire, remember?” I hear my voice rumble from a dark place, taunting him. “You can’t kill me with a knife. Shall I see if I can kill you with one?”
I reach up and pull the blade from my shoulder. It’s warm and wet with my blood. I fight the urge to lick it clean. Instead, I steady it on my palm. The heft is just right, the blade and handle a perfect counterbalance.
Samual steps back and away, circling. He’s moving toward Stephen. Does he think I will allow him to use the mortal as a shield?
Before he takes another step, I am on him. Faster than a rattlesnake strike, I have him on the ground, arms pinned to his sides with my thighs. The knife is between my teeth, then in my hand. His legs flail as he tries to buck me off. My eyes are on his throat. What does his blood taste of? Is it sweet or bitter?
I could throw away the knife. Tear out his throat.
I see Stephen from the corner of my eye. He’s coming closer, his face reflects shock. If I feed from Samual, will that shock turn to disgust?
Do I care?
The vampire is hungry. Samual is gaining strength beneath me. He’s reading my hesitation as weakness. He prepares to do battle once more.
“Burke was right,” he hisses in my ear. “Your human frailties will be your downfall. After I kill you, I kill the man, then the witches.”
Stephen hears. “No.” He meets my eyes, reads the question, turns unflinchingly toward Samual. “We kill him together.”
I glance at the human. His expression is no longer shocked. It’s determined. He’s at my side. Reaches to take the knife from my hand and nods.
I let him take it.
Samual stares in confusion. “No. You can’t.”
Stephen strikes the first blow. He plunges the knife into Samual’s chest. No hesitation. No faltering. A mortal blow. He pulls it out and steps back.
The blood spreads like a stain. I look up at Stephen. He dips his head. “Feed,” he says.
Teeth tear at the throat. Find the jugular. Drink.
And I have my answer.
Demon or no, Samual’s blood is sweet.
SEVENTEEN
SAMUAL’S HEARTBEAT FLUTTERS AND STILLS under my palm. I continue to drink until the taste of salt replaces the sweetness of blood.
I don’t know what to expect. Will he shrivel like a drained vampire? Or will his body remain intact? Is he really dead?
I sit back, the flush of feeding spreading warmth through my body, and wait.
Stephen is standing away.
I don’t blame him. I could tell him that it’s safe. That the vampire is satisfied and the human Anna once more in control.
Would he believe me? It won’t be easy to forget what he’s witnessed.
And yet he struck the first blow.
I steal a glance at him. His eyes are on Samual’s corpse, too.
He’s waiting as well. In a moment of clarity I realize why Samual didn’t take us both when he had the chance in that parking lot. Human weapons are effective against him on our plain and Stephen had a gun.
As to the both of us being in the parking lot at the same time? I guess there are cosmic coincidences, after all. Samual may have been as surprised to see us as Stephen and I are at the way things worked out.
After a moment, I push myself to my feet.
“Do you think he’s really dead?” Stephen asks when I join him.
He isn’t moving away from me. A good sign. “I don’t know. He’s not like any creature—”
The sky above us grows darker, a bank of clouds billowing up to obscure stars and moon.
“I think we’re going to get our answer.” I turn to Stephen. “If they try to pull us back, run. Find Susan. She’ll protect you.”
He answers by grabbing my hand. “We’ll both run or I’m staying. I won’t leave you.”
Stubborn. A trait I recognize. No chance to answer.
Samual’s body is rising.
A familiar voice. The Elder. “It is done. The trial by combat complete.”
Trial by combat?
Anger sparks when I realize what he’s saying. I raise my voice to the heavens. “You son of a bitch. You planned for this to happen?”
“A resolution had to be reached. Both you and Samual committed transgressions that could not go unpunished. Samual shirked his sworn duty and you violated sanctuary.”
“What if I had lost? You would have allowed this creature to walk the Earth unchecked?”
“He didn’t win. It is done.”
The body disappears into a turbulent bank of black clouds. The clouds disperse like smoke in the wind, leaving only wisps to mark their passing.
I watch the clouds dissipate, the bright moon once more claiming its spot in the sky.
A feeling of restlessness, of a task not yet completed, dims the satisfaction of whatever victory Stephen and I won here tonight. We sent one monster to his death. How many others have come back to Earth to wreak havoc from that place of “sanctuary”?
Stephen’s grip tightens, drawing me back. His eyes are on the sky, too. “Damn,” he says. “This is the best story I’ll never get to write.”
He doesn’t fully understand. No reason why he should. He hasn’t seen the things I have. He doesn’t carry the burden that I do.
I look into his face and a tremor passes through my body.
Why do I feel this is a story whose final act is yet to come?
EIGHTEEN
SUSAN IS WAITING FOR US AT THE FOUNTAIN. If she’s surprised to see her brother and me appear hand in hand, she doesn’t show it. She rushes up and only then does Stephen drop my hand to embrace his sister.
“Are you all right?” she asks.
Stephen nods. “Thanks to Anna.”
Susan touches a stain on his shirt. “You’re sure you’re not hurt?”
“It’s not my blood,” he answers. “Anna and I had quite an adventure.”
I drag my eyes off Stephen long enough to smile my thanks at Susan. “That was a nice piece of magic, that charm.”
“I wish I could have told you how it worked,” she says. “I intended to, but Samual showed up too soon.” She casts an uneasy glance around. “Is it over? Will he come back?”
“No. He’s gone.” Stephen’s tone is grim and final.
Samual is gone. But—
Susan releases a breath. “Thank you, Anna. For bringing my brother back. I—we—owe you.”
Do they? Stephen’s warmth as he stands close makes me think I may be the one who owes a debt.
That is if what we seem to be feeling—Stephen and I—is more than a simple reaction to having survived a harrowing experience. Or the result of Samual’s influence. I still can’t shake the idea that watching Stephen and I dance around each other, feeling the attraction, fighting it, would have been his idea of a joke.
Still, when Stephen reaches again for my hand, I let him take it.
It may be the last time. When the adrenaline rush subsides, things may change. My skin feels human now, the result of feeding, but soon it will not. It will become cold. Only feeding and sex warm a vampire’s blood. And then only temporarily.
Stephen doesn’t let go of my hand as we walk back into the park. He gives Susan a brief recap of what happened both with the tribunal and back on Earth. It’s a good summary, told in the style of a three-minute sound bite. A reporter to the core.
When we reach headquarters, Susan asks if we want to come inside. Ariela and Min are anxious to hear details.
Stephen shakes his head. “You fill them in. I’d like to go home.”
She opens her purse. “You can take my car. Ariela can give me a lift.”
“I can give him a ride,” I hear myself blurting. Then, holding my breath to await his reaction, I add, “My car is in the parking lot.”
My heart is thudding against my ribs. What if he says no?
And yet his grip on my hand remains firm and he’s smiling.
“I was hoping you’d offer,” he says.