Hourglass (24 page)

Lucas lay still in the darkness. A few drops of his blood stained the floor, and the bite mark on his throat was gory. When I’d bitten him, the only wounds had been my fang marks. Charity had torn his flesh open.

That’s okay. It will heal.

“Lucas?” I whispered. With my fingers, I brushed against his cheek. He didn’t move. “Lucas, it’s me. I’m here.” Still, nothing.

Reluctantly, I pressed my hand to his chest, and I felt no heartbeat. Lucas was dead.

I didn’t want to face it. I couldn’t hide from it. Charity had murdered Lucas before my eyes. I’d come back to try to rescue him, but I’d been too late.

Oh, no. Please, no.
But there was no one to beg, no power who could grant my wish to go back in time, to take back what had just happened. I was trapped in the horror of what was real and irrevocable.

The thumping on the stairs grew louder, and then Balthazar, Ranulf, and Vic burst into the room. Each of them froze as they saw the scene before them, and Vic clapped his hand to his mouth like he thought he might scream, too.

“It was Charity,” I whispered. “She drank his blood. She killed him.”

Vic sank to his knees. I simply cradled Lucas’s head in my lap, wishing I’d had a moment to touch him, just once, before the end. It would have meant so much to me, to have one more
second together. But Charity had stolen that, too. I thought about Juliet, holding the fallen Romeo in her arms; she also had returned from the dead too late.

Ranulf bowed his head. Balthazar stepped forward and laid one hand on my shoulder, but I shrugged it off.

“This is your fault,” I said. I didn’t shout; I didn’t have to for the force of my words to be felt. Balthazar had to know this as well as I did. “You dragged him out here even though you knew he was in no shape to fight. You never could face the fact that Charity’s a monster. Because of that, Lucas lost his life. Don’t you ever—ever—talk to me again.”

Balthazar lifted his chin. Although I could see the pain in his eyes, he didn’t have the decency to walk away. “If you still feel that way in a couple of days, I’ll respect your wishes.”

“You’ll respect them now.” Could I put my hand through Balthazar’s chest, hurt him the way I’d hurt Shepherd? At that moment, I could have.

But Balthazar said something that banished all my thoughts of revenge. “You’re going to need help with what comes next.”

At first I could hardly speak. I knew he was telling the truth—I’d known the rules since before I ever met Lucas—but in my anguish, I hadn’t yet considered what would happen next. It seemed too terrible to face. “Not that.”

“You know how it works, Bianca.”

“Don’t lecture me!” I shouted at Balthazar. “You don’t understand. This is the last thing Lucas ever wanted. Ever. He would have chosen death over this. It’s—it’s his worst nightmare.”

“Wait,” croaked Vic. His cheeks shone with tears. “Chosen death—I thought you said Lucas was dead. He’s not? We can still help him?”

I embraced Lucas’s body tightly.
I’m sorry, Lucas. I’m so sorry. The one thing I should have protected you from, beyond anything else, and I failed.

“Lucas is dead,” Balthazar said, “but he was killed by a vampire’s bite. And Bianca had bitten him in the past, so he was already exposed. Prepared.”

Vic looked from Balthazar to me in bewilderment. “What are you saying?”

I whispered, “Lucas will rise from the dead as a vampire.”

Was it possible that Lucas would be able to endure it? He’d hated the idea, always. But I kept remembering what Balthazar had said when Black Cross held him captive:
For our kind, death is only the beginning.

This could be our greatest nightmare. But maybe, instead, this would be our only hope of salvation.

Nobody could speak after that. I held Lucas’s head in my hands and stroked his hair. All we could do now was wait for dawn.

Jacket photo © 2010 by Karen Pearson, MergeLeft Reps, Inc.

Lettering by Sarah Jane Coleman

Jacket design by Alison Klapthor