Authors: S. L. Jennings
“Yes, come on, Gabriella! Let’s see the Dark Light in all her splendid glory!” Stavros bellows, drunk off power and blood-lust. His finger twitches again, and the poor girl screams so loudly that her voice gives out and becomes nothing more than a hoarse whimper. I can’t look at her—I can’t see how he’s mutilated her further, but I can smell the blood. So much blood.
“Stavros,” Delia says with a heavy accent. He laughs, yet puts down his hand, reclining back in his seat, leaving the young woman to writhe in agony on the floor.
“You see, Gabriella? Even you know that humans mean nothing. They are expendable. You couldn’t even find it in your heart to save this one.” He snaps his fingers and a vampire steps forward and grabs a handful of the injured girl’s hair. Oddly enough, she barely makes a sound as he drags her out of the room, leaving a trail of bright red blood. Maybe she knows it will all be over soon. Her pain will cease once the last remains of her life are drained from her body.
“You’re sick,” I spew, my hands shaking with ire. I hate him for what he did to that girl. And for what he made me come to realize.
“Maybe. But I do wonder…” Stavros muses, waving a hand to dismiss the other humans. I breathe a sigh of relief. “How would you react if it were your precious Dorian in danger? Or maybe you’d risk your life for Nikolai. Let’s test that theory, shall we?”
Fury-spiked blood heats my face. “Don’t you dare, or I will—”
“You’ll what? Sit there like a scared little girl? Clam up and let your precious prince die? Of course no human is a match for them. But with the right opponent…”
He snaps his fingers, and before I can fully turn my head to catch it, a vampire seizes Niko from behind, razor sharp fangs distended and just centimeters from his neck. I scream, knocking Dorian out of the way in a blur of movement, and shield him with my own body. Then I feel it—the pulsing, tingling magic, slithering up and down my arms. It warms at my fingertips before it evolves and expands into a scorching creature in my palms, too wild to be held or contained. I extend my hands, setting it free, giving it flight and freedom in the form of electric ribbons. It seeks a host in the vampire and burrows itself in his chest, filling him with magic so great and uninhibited that it fills him to the point of overflowing. A dark sludge leaks from his eyes, nose and ears as the magic holds him in frozen captivity. And, just as the last of it leaves my fingertips, the room falls completely silent and still. We all watch with rapt horror and fascination as the vampire disintegrates into a pile of foul-smelling ash.
“Ha!” Stavros exclaims, clapping his hands. Still, I’m frozen in place, unable to fully comprehend what I’ve done. “Bravo! Bravo!”
I feel a hand on my back, and I flinch before realizing its Dorian’s. He leans into me, his lips on my ear. “It’s ok, baby,” he says, slowly lowering my hands. “It’s ok. It’s over.”
I look at Niko, who appears just as shaken as me. It all happened so fast. I don’t even think he realizes how close he was from having his throat ripped out.
“What the fuck?” he shrieks, jumping to his feet, frantically brushing the dead remains of his attacker from his clothing. His head snaps up, his violent stare seeking Stavros. “How could you?”
I don’t miss the hurt in his voice. He already felt inadequate…unloved. Now his father has made him expendable.
“Oh, calm down, Nikolai,” Stavros answers with a wave. “There was no real danger. Not for you, anyhow. But isn’t that interesting? That Gabriella’s power is not ruled by her love for one brother, but two?”
“You’re insane.” Niko shakes his head and scrubs a hand over his face. “And completely delusional. Gabs will never align with you.”
“Oh?” Stavros stands and circles the room, contemplating his next move. “What if I said the bounty still stands? And that it’s not only a bounty, but a call for execution? Shall we include your little human friend, Morgan? I’d love to meet her. Pity she couldn’t make it.”
That gets my attention, and I whirl around the back of the couch to face him, teeth bared. “I swear to God, if you touch—”
“If. I. What?!”
His voice carries around the room, rattling teacups and saucers and shaking the priceless paintings on the walls. Then he’s in my face, only an inch separating his devious snarl from my lips. “I will do whatever it takes to get what I want. Don’t you understand that, stupid girl? And if that means sacrificing my own flesh and blood, I will do just that.”
“Back off,” Dorian growls, inserting himself between us. He meets Stavros’s sneer with an absolutely terrifying look of his own. “You will not speak to her like that. Do what you want with me,
Father,
but leave her out of this.”
Stavros snorts, taking a few steps back. “And what could you possibly do? You made it clear that you were above this family when you turned your back on us. You’ve thus been replaced. Now…I want the girl. And she can either come willingly, or kicking and screaming.”
He looks around Dorian’s body, his cold, blue eyes roaming my body from top to bottom. “Although I’m inclined to the option of kicking and screaming. I do so love it when she gets wild.” He sniffs the air, tasting it. “Makes her smell like sex and sugar.”
“You can’t have her,” Dorian says, ignoring his comment. “She is mine, mark or not. So I’m giving you Option C.”
Intrigued, Stavros lifts a brow. “Option C?”
“Yes.”
Dorian turns to me and gently takes my face in his hands. He searches my face, committing every tiny detail to memory, skimming through mental snapshots of every freckle and mole. Then his lips brush my forehead before his touch abandons me, leaving my skin still tingling.
He turns back to Stavros and steps forward. “Me. Take me. You’ve always wanted a worthy heir. Now you have one.”
“Dorian, no! Don’t do it!” I reach out to grasp his arm, but he anticipates it, and slides out of the way. A hand snakes around my waist, holding me back from going to him, and I realize it’s Niko. He shakes his head, but his expression is just as bleak as mine. Still, I have to do something—say something—to make him change his mind.
“And how do I know that you’re worthy?” Stavros asks, ignoring my cries of protest. “You’ve disappointed me before, Dorian. How can I trust that you will not again?”
“My mind is open to you. I am incapable of deception. I’ve had time to live in the human world and now…now I’m ready to do what it takes. I was weak before—confused and misguided about where my alliances lie. I’m not anymore.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. I am done with trying to be something I’m not,” Dorian deadpans, his voice so cold and distant, I don’t even recognize it. “You don’t need Gabriella, and you definitely don’t need Aurora. Take me. I’m the one you want. Teach me, train me. Show me how to rule our people. I only ask two things.”
Stavros crosses his arms in front of him. “I’m not so sure you can bargain for any favors, but let’s hear it.”
“Let Cyrus live,” Dorian says. “And break the link between Gabriella and me.”
What?
WHAT?!!
Dorian wants to break the link. He wants to sever the only tie that would connect us forever. Why would he do this to us? This can’t be right.
“And why would I do that?” Stavros asks with a mocking smile.
“I have no desire to be tied to her. Her magic is not pure—it is a defect. Allowing mine to meld with hers will only further taint our bloodline. If I am to rule one day, I will do so with nothing but Dark blood in my veins.”
“Yet, you give her your mark. Then a ring,” Stavros challenges.
“Human tokens,” Dorian explains, as if he’s rehearsed this conversation for weeks. “Meaningless to our kind.”
The look on Stavros’s face is almost…impressed. “Fine.”
“Now.”
Stavros raises both brows in surprise. “Now?”
Dorian nods slowly. “I want you to break the link now. Then I’ll do anything you ask of me. What do you say, Father? Do we have a deal?”
“D, don’t do this,” Niko says, his voice weakened with desperation. Dorian turns his head to the side just a fraction, yet ignores his brother’s plea, extending his hand to Stavros.
Stavros takes a long beat to contemplate Dorian’s offer. Nobody speaks. Nobody even breathes. Even Delia and Aurora are stunned in silent disbelief. This isn’t right. This isn’t supposed to happen. If Dorian complies with Stavros, then what does that mean for us? For
him?
Is he purposely sentencing himself to an eternity of damnation?
I can’t let that happen. Not to him. Not while I still have breath in my lungs and blood in my veins. Fuck the link. He and I are bound by love.
Taking advantage of the distraction, I break free from Niko’s hold and make a dash for Dorian. Just as I reach out to grasp his shoulder, he turns around inhumanly quick, and meets my expression with his cold contempt. “I am done with playing with children. Run away, little girl. You’re not one of us.” Then just as swiftly, I’m left to stare at his back through burning tears.
His words seal the deal with the devil, and Stavros nods. “I accept your offer, son,” he says, smiling with pride. He slips his hand into Dorian’s and shakes, and I feel like someone has punched me in the gut, sucking the air right from my lungs. I stagger, and Niko is right there to steady me, wrapping a protective arm around my shoulders.
“I’ve got you,” he whispers, leaning in to whisper in my ear and stirring the curls around my neck. I feel him flinch as Stavros approaches, but he doesn’t let go.
He
doesn’t give up on me.
Stavros’s cold, broad hand lays flat against my chest, his eyes wide with mischievous delight. “Don’t move, or I could lose the connection and end up crushing your chest,” he warns. Then he begins to chant in a low, accented voice. It’s the Dark tongue, the ancient language genetically embedded in every Dark One’s frontal lobe. A gust of wind sweeps through the parlor, causing cups and dishes to clatter to the floor.
I don’t have to look up to know what’s happening. I can feel my soul being ripped from my body. And why stop it? Why fight for someone who sees me as nothing more than a defect? I can’t even cringe when I feel Dorian’s essence being conjured from my body. The finishing blow was already dealt the moment he said he didn’t want me anymore.
When he finishes just minutes later, I feel emptier than I’ve ever felt before. It’s not just his magic that left me—it was
him.
Dorian abandoned me. Now it all makes sense—his silence, his desperation. I felt it in his touch. I tasted his intent in his kiss, and mistook it for passion. He was trying to say goodbye all along, and I refused to accept it. I refused to let him go.
Dorian still keeps his back to me, but I can see his head is down, and his shoulders rise and fall as if he’s panting. I won’t ask him to face me. Not now. Never again. He doesn’t deserve the satisfaction of seeing me broken apart.
Stavros quietly steps away, turning to glimpse one of the only remaining paintings on the wall. “However, there is just one thing,” he muses.
Dorian’s voice is raw, almost hoarse. “And what’s that?”
“Insurance.”
Before the last syllable leaves his lips, Stavros glides to stand before Dorian and grasps the younger man’s forehead. He digs into his temples so hard that I can literally hear the sickening sounds of Stavros’s fingertips scraping against delicate arteries. Dorian screams, and that pure, undiluted sound of fear and hopelessness brings me to my knees. I may hate him right now, but every agonized piece of me will love Dorian until the end of time. And I damn sure can’t stand to see him in pain—link or not.
“Stop it! You’re killing him!” I cry, feeling wildfire skate across my palms. My hands rise automatically, controlled only by the power racing under my skin. In an instant, Stavros shifts, and his hand is secured tightly around my throat and lifting me up onto my feet, his other still grinding into Dorian’s skull.
“Use it, and he’s dead,” he roars in that ancient, commanding voice.
Mouth agape with terror, all I can do is hang there as I watch Death and Malice dance in the reflection of his eyes. He lets me go, focusing his attention on torturing his son. Dorian’s legs buckle and he lets out a blood-curdling shriek, causing the lights to flicker and sizzle before popping like tiny, glass fireworks.
“That’s right,” Stavros rasps, bringing his son to his knees. “It will all be over soon.”
The howling winds pick up and the ground quakes violently, stirring trinkets, dishware and food into a mini tornado. It grows, whipping around us, pushing our own bodies with the mere force of Stavros’s magic. A large hutch creaks and groans before splintering down the middle and joining the cyclone.
“Watch out!” Niko yells, pushing me down to the ground just as large shards of broken glass marginally miss my face. His body is partially covering mine on the ground, shielding me from the quickly growing storm. It rips the paint and plaster off the wall, and yanks a huge chandelier from the ceiling that goes crashing into the sitting area. I hear both Aurora and Delia scream as we’re all pelted with broken slivers of crystal.
I expose my eyes just enough to see Stavros and Dorian, both of their bodies flickering in and out of their human forms. It’s like watching them being electrocuted, each surge giving us flashes of skeleton and darkness. I’m only able to catch a glimpse of it before the twister condenses, pulling itself together around the two until they’re completely sheathed in rotating debris. It molds itself around them, gathering strength and speed, until it becomes nothing more than a blur, even to my superhuman eyes. And just when I think that it can’t go beyond its limits, it moves past the speed of sound, causing silence to settle over the room for only a mere second before it erupts entirely, incinerating the wreckage into shimmering sand.
My ears are ringing, and I’m completely covered with dust. Coughing, I rub the dirt out of my eyes. Niko’s weight still covers my body, but he rolls away, also choking on the clouded air.
“What happened?” I croak.
“I don’t know.”
He helps me to my feet just as the dust begins to settle, and we’re finally able to assess the fallout. Two lifeless bodies lay before us.