Twilight Prophecy

23


James had mentally braced himself for the blow when Utanapishtim’s eyes had begun to shine. And then, like a slow-motion nightmare, he’d seen Lucy lunging into the path of that killer beam.

She shouted, “Utanapishtim, no!” as she leaped in front of the man.

And even as James screamed her name and lunged for her, she took the blow meant for him. The beam of light hit her, and her body went stiff and began to vibrate. James raced toward her, noting that Utanapishtim’s expression had turned to one of horror and the beam from his eyes had flickered.

And then another beam shot from behind James, blasting past him and hitting Utanapishtim square in the chest, sending the great man flying backward to slam into a wall and crumple to the floor. James shot a stunned look behind him, only to see Brigit striding into the room like some kind of warrior woman—one who was royally pissed.

Utanapishtim lay on the floor, beaten, stunned, looking shell-shocked and as if he might have finally suffered a complete break with reality. He was muttering, “I intend not her. Not Loo-see. Not Loo-see.” And then he lapsed into Sumerian—or something James presumed was Sumerian.

He didn’t care. He refocused on Lucy, kneeling beside her where she’d fallen. Gathering her into his arms, he lifted her upper body from the floor, pushed up her scorched tank top. Her belly was badly burned, a large black spot smoldering, smoking, raw flesh visible beneath the charred skin.

She opened her eyes, looking up at him, and he could see the pain in her eyes. “You can heal it. I know you can.”

Meeting her eyes, he felt tears brimming in his own, because he was so afraid he couldn’t. He pressed his palms to her belly, waiting for the white light to come. And when it didn’t, he blinked rapidly.

Brigit put her hand on his shoulder. “Do it, J.W. What are you waiting for?”

“I’m trying.”

“Well f*cking try harder, bud. She’s circling the drain.”

He tried, he focused, he searched inside himself for the pool of energy he’d always been able to tap into, to reroute, to press outward into those who needed it. And for the second time in his memory, he felt only emptiness inside him. There was nothing there.

“It’s…gone. He took it from me, back on the yacht. I was afraid of that when I tried to heal you in that church and couldn’t…. I just didn’t want to believe…”

Brigit met his eyes, her own wide with disbelief as she processed that. She pressed her lips together, gave a firm nod. “You’re gonna have to do it the other way, big bro.”

“What other way?” Then realization entered his eyes. “Oh, no. Hell, no. I don’t even know if I can. Or if she’d want it.” Then he shot a look Utanapishtim’s way and realized the other man was gone. “He took my power. He can use it. Utanapishtim! Where are you?”

“Shit, he’s gone. I’m going after him,” Brigit said. “Meanwhile, you’d better ask her while she’s still able to answer you. It’s time to fang up or shut up, J.W.”

“Wait, Brigit! I’ve never—”

But she was gone. And James was left holding the woman he loved—yes, loved. He knew that now. And she was dying. Right in his arms, she was dying.

“I’m sorry, James,” Lucy whispered. “I just couldn’t bring myself to give up that stupid book of Folsom’s. Books have always been everything to me. But I know now there’s something far more important.”

“Love,” he said. “Love is more important.”

She smiled softly, closing her eyes. “I’m so sorry. I ruined everything.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I did. And now I’m dying, and you’ve lost your power, and…it could have been so good. If I’d lived…if you wanted me…we could have had…” She closed her eyes, but tears squeezed through her thick lashes all the same. “I love you, James.”

“I love you, too.”

“I wish I could stay with you.” She closed her eyes briefly, then flashed them open again. “I get it now. I do. I get it. I’ve felt so guilty all this time that my parents died and I lived. But now…now I understand they couldn’t have borne it any other way. Now…I know what it is to love someone more than you love your own life. To be willing to sacrifice everything for another human being. I couldn’t have lived if I had let you die, James. I am so happy, so proud, that I was able to prevent it. To be the hero for once in my life.” She smiled through her tears. “I know how they felt, dying for me. They were happy. They were happy they managed to save me. And it feels so good to finally understand that. To understand what they did. Thank you for that, James. Thank you. I’m not a coward after all.”

He felt hot tears running down his face. “You never were.” And then she was fading, and he shook his head. “You can’t leave me,” he whispered. “I don’t want to go on without you, Lucy. I don’t know if I can. You’re like…the part of me that’s been missing. You understand me like no one else ever has…. I can make you one of us. One of them. You’re one of the Chosen. That means—”

“I know what it means.”

He nodded. “I’ve never…but I can try.”

She opened her eyes and stared into his. “I trust you. I trust you with my life, my eternal, immortal life, James. And I would be honored to join your people.”

James closed his eyes and summoned forth the vampiric part of his soul. He felt his jawline shift, felt his razor-sharp incisors extend, felt a powerful hunger piercing his awareness. And as he looked downward and she met his eyes, he saw the glowing red reflection of his gaze in hers. For the first time he thanked his stars for the part of him that was preternatural, undead. Vampire. For the first time he truly and completely loved and accepted the part of himself he had formerly rejected and tried to ignore. The part he’d hated all his life. The part he’d thought he was too good for.

The bloodlust raged, and for the first time he welcomed it, rather than meeting it with disgust and forcing it into submission. He surrendered to it, embraced it. He let it take him over, make him hard, aroused, hot, hungry. He was, in that moment, entirely vampire. And he relished it fully, as he had never ever done before. It and it alone was going to save Lucy’s life. The vampire in him was the only reason he could have her now. And for that, he loved it.

He bent to her throat, a low growl of desire and hunger rising from deep within him. Opening his lips, he sucked her neck, taking the skin into his mouth, between his teeth. Pressing just slightly, he felt the thrum of that river of blood rushing through her veins. He felt it pulsing faster as she anticipated what was to come. Her heart raced like a frightened rabbit’s, and he relished that, too. And then he sank his fangs into her flesh and he fed from her, drinking.

And it was good. It was so, so good. Her blood filled him, warming his body, thundering through him, becoming power, becoming energy, becoming strength. He lifted his head from her neck, tipped it back and roared like a lion celebrating a kill. And then he lowered his gaze to her again.

She was white as a ghost, and her heartbeat had slowed to almost nothing. He’d drained her, imbibed her, and every time her heart thudded against her chest he felt it, heard it. It stuttered. It paused. It stopped.

He picked up the ax he’d dropped beside her and drew his wrist over the sharp edge, slicing a vein. Forcefully, he pressed his flesh to her mouth.

“My blood, your blood. My life, your life. Drink, Lucy. Drink me into you and come back to me, my love.”