“Feels like that, sometimes.”
It was a ten-minute walk. Both of them silent, focused. San Francisco, which Lyssa had been falling in love with, suddenly felt like some glittering, alien cage that might collapse its bars around her at any moment.
Except I’m the monster now, she thought. I am a Cruor Venator, and if I chose, if I wanted to. .
You could control the world, whispered the dragon. There has never been one like you. Demon blood, mixed with dragon? There is a reason Georgene wants you, either to control or to consume.
They reached the building, but Lyssa grabbed Eddie’s hand as he began to unlock the narrow glass door. A scent curled around and through her — impossible, wicked, and muscular.
It couldn’t be. . not so quickly. It had only been a day.
But then Lyssa remembered that Estefan had known how to contact Dirk & Steele, where they were located, that it was filled with people who could help her. . people like Eddie.
And what Estefan knew. .
“Georgene is here,” she told him, and deep inside, the dragon began to purr.
They took the stairs. Eddie moved on light feet, fire sparking off his hair and shimmering over his hands. Lyssa followed, using the climb to mentally prepare — as if such a thing was possible. Being a Cruor Venator would not be enough to kill Georgene. For witches who were unaffected by magic, it would come down to hand-to-hand combat.
But this time, there was no small child to use as bait. No mother forced to choose her life over the life of her daughter. No father, away on business, coming home to find his wife being slowly murdered, her body too far gone to save.
When they reached the ninth floor, it was all very quiet. But Lyssa smelled Georgene’s scent. . as well as blood. She grabbed Eddie’s shoulder, holding him back.
“She’s here,” she breathed.
His jaw flexed, and he pulled her close. “My arm. It’s bleeding.”
Lyssa stared, confused. . until he swiped some of his own blood and placed his hot, wet fingers on her lips. She recoiled instinctively. . but the scent filled her, and so did the trace of blood that he left on her mouth. Her tongue licked it off, and his love coursed through, as well as golden light. It chased away the stink and sourness of Matthew Swint. . and the next time he held up his hand, she did not resist.
She licked his blood off his fingers, then did the same to the wound on his arm — soaking in his strength and goodness, feeling her heart grow, and her spirit.
Eddie’s breath quickened. Between them, that mental link bloomed. It did not last, but there was enough time to feel his mind touch hers in a blossoming shower of concern and affection that was not in the least bit dimmed by her lapping his blood away with her tongue.
Which, frankly, she wouldn’t have blamed him for finding disgusting. That he didn’t. . was just another miracle. Her miracle. Her man.
I understand, Lyssa wished she could tell her mother. I understand now.
“Ready?” Eddie whispered.
Lyssa nodded, jaw set. . and moved in front of him to stride down the dark corridor to the living room. The lights were off, but the city gleamed through the windows, shedding a glow. Close, the scent of blood intensified. . and so did the sound of harsh, pained, breathing.
It was Roland, she discovered. Bound hand and foot, and shivering as he lay sprawled on the floor near an overturned table. An obsidian dagger jutted from his shoulder, but he had suffered cuts all over. Blood soaked his clothes.
When he saw Lyssa and Eddie, his eyes widened and a low, pained rumble escaped his throat. He had been gagged, too.
She smelled his fear. The room stank with it, and the stench of his blood.
“Interesting man,” said Georgene, moving in the shadows on the other end of the room. “Stronger than I expected. Still not able to resist me, but he fought the fear. He still fights. And his mind. .”
She made a hissing sound, filled with pleasure. “Such unexpected power. Everyone he loves is filled with power. I could harvest them all and rule this world.”
Lyssa didn’t look away from Georgene, not even when Eddie slipped past her to crouch beside Roland.
“I’m ripe,” she said. “Are you ready for me?”
The witch strode toward her. “I offered you a chance.”
“No.”
“I meant it, you know. Both of us, together. Yes, you would have tried to kill me eventually, but two Cruor Venators working in tandem? That has not been seen in a thousand years.”
“I can think of better dreams.”
“I can’t,” said Georgene, with an oddly regretful smile. “There is nothing sweeter than drinking a life and riding that power. I took Nikola with me, and now she rests in here.” Her hand pressed against her heart. “Forever.”
“You won’t take me,” Lyssa whispered. “Or Eddie, or anyone else.”
“Ah,” she whispered, dark eyes glittering. “You are untrained. You are young, and have not fed on a full life. I can feel that. You have no chance, Lyssa. And yet. . when I take your life, it will be the life of a full blood Cruor Venator. . which is far more powerful than if I had just killed you before your first murder.”
Eddie rose from helping Roland, and stepped forward. “You won’t touch her.”
She smiled. “You’ll be next. And when I’m done, you won’t remember Lyssa. You won’t remember yourself.”
That threat. That promise.
For a moment, Lyssa remembered her mother, chained and bleeding. Her father, descending in a cloud of fire.
Fire burned in her hands. Inside, the dragon simmered with such terrible rage she forgot everything but the need, and hunger, to protect the man behind her.
My mate.
Lyssa took one powerful, bounding stride — and grabbed Georgene’s head between her hands. Claws pierced her scalp, drawing blood. Blood that Lyssa scraped across her tongue.
The reaction was immediate, and overwhelming. Power roared through her veins with such force she thought her skin would split — like a cocoon, split — or the skin of a snake — revealing her, transformed. Unrecognizable. Alien.
She didn’t care. Nothing mattered but that taste of power, which felt like the purest form of infinity — like heaven after a hard death. Impossible and eternal.
I will never give this up, came the unbidden thought. I will kill to keep it.
And, just like that, the moment ended. One terrible thought was all it took to snap Lyssa free and send her slamming back to earth in a tumble of fear and hunger, and determination.
The Cruor Venator snarled and shifted shape into a leopard. The transformation took a heartbeat, and suddenly Lyssa was on her back, fighting to fend off an enraged 150-pound cat with hate and hunger in its black eyes. Claws gouged her stomach.
Eddie appeared behind the leopard — and in a burst of raw strength, slid his arms around its neck and hauled backward. Lyssa scrambled forward instead of away, slashing her own claws across the leopard’s belly, screaming in fury and disgust as she tried to gut the Cruor Venator.
The leopard twisted, knocking Eddie on his side. Lyssa grabbed her tail, yanking the beast away from him — and barely jumped back in time to keep from being cut across the throat. Instead of pressing the attack, the Cruor Venator turned again on Eddie.
She’s going to kill him first.
Ruthless resolve shot straight into Lyssa’s heart. Pain ate at her right arm, muscles contorting with power, but this time she embraced it, opening her soul to the dragon, accepting that other half of her without hesitation.