Blood and Kisses

chapter 21



The summer solstice. Akos hated the shortness of the night, but it signaled the turning point of the year. Now the hours of sunlight would diminish and the hours of darkness would flourish, a fitting night for Inanna’s prophecy to come true.

Inanna. She’d been the perfect pawn. She’d thought she was the one in control, the immortal vampiress, and she’d certainly been exciting, but his agenda had had nothing to do with love or even sex.

He’d sought her out because of what she was, and when he had arranged for her and Gideon to meet, his two goals had collided.

At first, she’d refused to turn him, said the dark gift was more a curse, a punishment, than a boon. But when he’d lain near death, she’d chosen to turn him rather than live without him.

It was too bad she’d turned the Butcher, as well. If she hadn’t done that... Ah well, it was no use speculating.

Tonight. It had to be tonight. He didn’t want to wait any longer. He was tired of waiting.

He’d spotted Gideon near the Tomb earlier, but his enemy hadn’t had the Champion with him. He’d managed to slip away before the Butcher could detect him. He needed both of them to fulfill the prophecy.

Akos burned with displeasure. Where were they?



“Gideon. About what happened earlier at Mina’s—” Unable to hold her tongue any longer, Thalia broke the heavy silence that hung between them in the car.

He believed something evil lived inside him, waiting for the chance to strike. But she hadn’t spent the past week with a monster, just a man, and, regardless of his feelings about her, a good man at that.

How could she convince him of that?

“There’s nothing left to talk about.” Ice coated his words.

“But—”

“I agreed to help you find the rogue. That’s all.” His words had the ring of iron.

Stabbed, the crushing pain in Thalia’s heart seemed to radiate through her chest. She fought back tears, raised her chin, and turned to look out the window at the passing scenery.

She studied the familiar streets and houses for several minutes. Everything looked so different in the dark, as if a strange transformation occurred when the sun went down. She sorted through her disjointed thoughts. Words leaped to her lips. She bit them back, but reconsidered. She might have promised herself she wouldn’t beg, but she couldn’t let it rest. He had to be forced to confront the truth. This wasn’t for her. It was for him.



“What I wanted to say isn’t about us.” Thalia’s voice was so soft only his vampire-aided senses allowed him to hear her over the road noise.

“Oh.” Chagrin colored the single exclamation. Gideon steadied himself with a short laugh. “What did you want to say?”

“I wonder,” she took a deep breath. “How long has it been since you’ve killed someone?”

“What?” Gideon threw a surprised glance at Thalia. How could she ask him that?

She looked straight ahead out the dark windshield, as if fascinated by the taillights and license plate of the car in front of them, her face reflected in the glass. Her gaze darted in his direction before skimming away. “You say you’re a monster,” she continued. “I’m curious. How many victims has the monster claimed, say in the past one-hundred years?”

Gideon didn’t have to think. “None.” Everett had been the last and the hardest. Since then, he’d left administering the penalty for breaking vampire law to others.

“Hmm. How many in the past millennium?” She looked at him out of the corner of her eye.

“Ten.” And he remembered every one.

“Cold blooded murder?

Gideon hesitated, considered a lie, then remembered her talent for detecting an untruth. “No.”

“You were enforcing the Code each time, weren’t you?” With that, she pinned him with her eyes, daring him to answer truthfully.

“Yes.” He could see their faces before him, men and women who had surrendered to the awesome power of the Claiming. They’d each had their own story. They hadn’t been strangers. He’d known them all well. Thankfully, except for Everett, he hadn’t turned any of them.

There was Angelina, an aristocratic French woman who had been run through on the cruel tines of a pitchfork by an angry mob during the French Revolution. She’d been a talented singer and had delighted in using her voice to draw men to her. Despite his need for isolation, he’d liked her. She’d had a witty charm that could make one forget inconvenient memories.

He’d been forced to behead her before she brought the entire constabulary of Bordeaux down upon them.

John, a simple yeoman farmer, who had craved the excitement and supremacy of the vampire gifts. How he’d gloried in learning, something forbidden him in his mortal life.

Before becoming addicted to the Claiming, John had made it a practice to turn every pretty girl he saw. After, he used his blood ties with his eyasses to form his own personal army.

Edward, a young fop of the Regency era who’d dallied with the wife of the wrong man and eaten grass for breakfast, as he’d like to say. Edward had been a sad case. He’d been a man of his times who’d outlived them. No doubt if he’d still been mortal, he would have become an alcoholic or an opium eater.

And there’d been so many others. They’d died and lived again, but learned nothing from the experience.

“And before that? How many murders have you committed?”

“When I was a boy, I arranged to have enemies killed.” He didn’t remember their faces. They seemed as distant now as the craggy surface of the moon. Sometimes the moon seemed closer.

“And these enemies. They were innocents?”

“I wouldn’t call them innocents,” he hedged. He could see where she was going, but she was wrong. “They were ambitious men. Men who saw a young prince as an obstacle to their own advancement.”

“Men who were willing to kill to remove that obstacle?” Thalia accentuated her point with the rise of her delicate eyebrows, her gaze riveted on his face.

“That doesn’t change the fact it was my order that led to their deaths.”

“Doesn’t it? You told me you were a sickly boy. If you had met these grown soldiers on the field of battle, what chance would you have had? They would have killed you—little more than a child—without a moment’s remorse. Wouldn’t they?”

Gideon didn’t, couldn’t speak.

“Wouldn’t they?”

“And later, when Inanna betrayed you, would you have killed her, if she hadn’t attacked you? What would you have done if it had been someone else who had spied against you? What would have been the penalty?

“How many of your soldiers died because of her? Because of information she’d passed to Akos? She handed you and your men to him time and time again. It’s a miracle you weren’t killed.”

He shook his head. He’d told himself the same thing, but it excused nothing.

“I can’t condemn you because you fought to live. And I don’t think you should condemn yourself.”

She didn’t blame him? A part of him rejoiced in her forgiveness, but the rational part of him struggled to forgive himself. Could it be true? Had his actions been self-defense? You’d like to believe that, wouldn’t you? Breathed that voice inside him.

Flashes of memory seared across his mind’s eye.

He was a child, trembling in his narrow cot, each night consumed by fear. Would they come for him in his sleep? Or would the next day bring the slip of a bronze sword, the ill-timed backswing of a mace, a spear gone astray?

He was a young man, triumphant, waiting for an audience with the king, expecting praise from a remote father he should finally have pleased, only to overhear the king ordering his death.

Years later, still young, but leaning on a cane, debilitated from the effects of poison as he watched his half-sister led to her death.

She held her head high as they took her to the square. Her mouth pinched, her eyes, so like his, so like his father’s, had been flat and dead. Then she’d tuned on him. “Usurper! I’m the older!” she’d said, struggling against the two men restraining her. “This all should have been mine. You should have died. Why couldn’t you die?” Her venom still rang in his ears, though millennia had passed.

And then, Inanna’s betrayal just when he thought he’d found true happiness. The coppery gleam of her dagger in the lamplight as she rushed toward him. The fury in her eyes, then the horror as his curved sword pierced her flesh.

Catching up with Akos later at his campsite. The visions that had disturbed his sleep for thousands of years, faces set in masks of rage and fear, lips drawn back in desperate grimaces, eyes wide, pupils dark. Blood the color of mud and pitch in the uncertain light of the torches. And at last, standing among the twitching corpses. His hands stained, his sword broken.

Inanna’s curse. And later, the hardened mercenary. The mortals didn’t stand a chance, the monster reminded him. You were faster, stronger, able to manipulate their will. What’s your excuse for that?

“I worked as a mercenary,” he said into the silence that had followed her pronouncement of faith. Let her defend him against that charge.

Thalia looked at him, her mouth opened and closed. It seemed she didn’t know what to say, then she asked in a tone that said she already knew the answer. “You fought for the strong? You massacred old men, women, and children? You worked for the highest bidder?”

It was Gideon’s turn to be at a loss for words. He wanted to say yes. But it wasn’t the truth. “No.” He grinned ruefully. “I’ve always been a sucker for a lost cause, but don’t think nobility played a part. Don’t think I was some sort of hero. I did it for the challenge.”

“Hmm.” Thalia turned away, but in the passenger-side window he could see the reflection of the smile she struggled to hide.



Despite the intensity of the conversation and the pain that lingered in her chest, Thalia couldn’t quite quell the victorious smile that bubbled up as Gideon tried to spin the truth to fit the lie he’d believed for so long.

He stopped the car. They’d arrived.

“What’s the plan?”

“We’re just a couple out for a drink.” As he spoke, Gideon seemed to shorten and grow broader, and a small paunch formed at his waist. His features shifted and flattened, his hairline retreated. Soon he was wearing baggy khaki shorts and a white golf shirt.

He looked like a former high school football player who had started to go to seed. Thalia summoned a glamour. The spell came over her with an ease she’d never known.

Why had she been unable to tap into these powers before? She sighed and put her questions away. Time to get to work.

She checked her reflection in the car window. A tall, bleached blonde with skinny jeans pasted on her legs and a cropped, white T-shirt with a sparkly multi-colored butterfly decal molded to her chest gazed back at her.

“We won’t fool Akos, but we don’t need to. He wants to find us as much as we want to find him.” Gideon put a hand under her elbow and escorted her toward the Tomb. She could see him noting the position of the various police officers, male and female, watching the bar.

Thalia muttered the beginning of a shielding spell. The final words of the prophecy reverberated in her head.



The ancient dead but living

shall attain great power



When the marked one dies

and a sacrifice is made



By one who rose long ago

from the grave.



If the prophecy were right, she wasn’t sure she wanted to find Akos at all.

She was in no hurry to die.

She wished she could conjure up courage as easily as her newfound powers. She placed her hand on Gideon’s arm, drawing fortitude from his potent aura.

“There’s one more thing I want to say before we go in.” She sighed and closed her eyes. “I don’t want you to think I’m asking for anything from you. You’ve made your feelings clear. I accept that. But if we should fail tonight,”—she put a hand on his mouth to quiet his automatic protest—“If we should fail, I want you to know that you can’t be all bad. Otherwise, I wouldn’t love you.”

Gideon stopped dead in his tracks and Thalia, in her teetering heels, almost tripped on the uneven pavement. There was some emotion she couldn’t read in his eyes. Shock? Distaste?

She swallowed the lump in her throat. Before he could speak she said, “We’ve got work to do.”

Gideon shot one last look at her and helped her up the cement steps. He opened the door to the Tomb, and Thaila stepped into the smoky room. The familiar surroundings calmed her nerves for a moment. Tom nodded to them as they approached the bar, no sign of recognition in his eyes. Gideon nodded back and ordered their drinks.

“Do you see him?” Thalia took her drink and leaned one elbow on the bar, casually surveying the room.

Gideon took a sip of his drink. “Not yet. Do you know any of the pettys here?”

Thalia let her gaze meander from face to face. The cops were easy to pick out. Their cheerful expressions and relaxed body language cried, “play”, but their serious, ever-searching eyes screamed, “work.” “I’ve met some of the cops in the course of my job. There are one or two others. But it’s late, don’t you think he’s already fed?”

“I’m sure he has.” Gideon’s mouth formed a straight, hard line and she could see a glimpse of his true self behind his disguise. “But he knows we’ll come here.”

Thalia turned back toward the long bar and used the aged mirror to examine the rest of the noisy throng that filled the large room. The women sported hectic flushes that had nothing to do with cosmetics or exertion; their eyes sparkled with some emotion, anticipation perhaps? The men tried to look cool as they swept passersby with a wary glance. Was this one a murderer? Would this one be a victim?

She could feel the electric zing of adrenaline in the air. Why was it people were so attracted to danger? Why weren’t they at home in bed as she almost wished she were?

Thalia threaded through the crowd, secure in her camouflage. She towed a reluctant Gideon toward the dance floor. “We have to act natural,” she said when he resisted.

Besides, she might never get another chance to dance with him. The reckless festivity of the bar patrons infected her. She danced onto the parquet floor with a shimmy of her hips. Gideon followed her lead, but his stiff, awkward movements, though appropriate for his façade, revealed his unwilling participation.

“Come on!” shouted Thalia over the blaring rock music with its driving beat, “put some soul into it!” Suddenly thirsty, she knocked back the rest of her screwdriver and held the empty glass up in the air, beckoning a waitress to bring her another.

When the drink arrived, she held it up in the air. We, who are about to die, salute you, she thought as she threw back the fresh contents of her glass. She was about to wave for another when Gideon, his false face like a storm cloud, dragged her from the floor and guided her to an empty table.

“What?” She clambered onto the high stool and put her elbows on the sticky table, trying to look serious. The alcohol coursed through her veins, making her joints feel loose. She welcomed the counterfeit boldness it provided.

Don’t lose your focus. I need you. He wore a stranger’s face, but it was Gideon’s eyes boring into her, Gideon’s life that would also be lost, if she couldn’t find the courage to face Akos.

His words were all she needed to sober up. Her fear, notwithstanding, she wouldn’t let Gideon down.



Thalia stole a glance across the table at Gideon. They’d been sitting there pretending to be a normal couple having a conversation for more than an hour. And it had taken a lot of pretense on Thalia’s part.

Gideon, preoccupied by his own thoughts, had lapsed into a series of long, pensive silences. So far, Akos had failed to show.

“Where do you think he is?”

Gideon leaned in. “I’m sure he’s close by. We’ll leave, and if he doesn’t make his move, we’ll come back in different disguises.”

Thalia nodded. Her nerves were strung so tight a circus performer could walk across them. She stumbled as she slid from her stool, her legs tingling from being in one position for so long. Gideon caught her and piloted her through the crowd like an icebreaker clearing the way for a smaller ship. She shuffled behind him, trying to tap some sensation back into her numb feet.

As they neared the door, her eyes caught sight of a familiar man at the bar.

Heath.

“Gideon.” She nodded in Heath’s direction, then headed there, towing Gideon behind her.

“Heath.” She placed a hand on his back.

He turned around. His face twisted as he penetrated her glamour. “It’s the Champion everybody!” he announced to the bar in general. Thalia looked around to see who had heard. A few people glanced her way, but the police had no idea who or what the Champion was, and she relaxed.

Heath raised his glass. “Long live the Champion.” His words slurred, and the last one was buried in his drink as he took a long swallow. Despite all he’d put her through, she felt for him. It must have shown in her eyes because Heath said, “Why are you here? I don’t need your sympathy.”

“I can see how much you wanted to be the Champion, Heath. What I don’t understand is why?”

Heath turned back to the bar. “I’ve wanted to be the Champion since I was a child. My grandmother was a Champion, you know.” She hadn’t. “But my mother was born without the mark. And so was I. And because of an accident of birth, I was denied my heritage.”

Thalia was stunned.

She’d never seen it from the other side. As a kid, she’d often wished her mark gone. As a teenager, she’d wished it smaller or anyplace other than her face. But she‘d never really considered the implications of the mark.

What would it be like to be raised in a family of Champions and have all the powers of the Champion, but be denied the opportunity to fulfill that destiny because of the absence of a patch of crescent-shaped pigment?

She thought of Lily. Born in a family of witches without a smidgen of magical ability. It was a wonder she’d never been bitter.

All Thalia could say was, “I’m sorry, Heath.”

He snorted into his drink.

She raised helpless eyes to Gideon, and he shook his head, drawing her away. “Give him some time. We still have a job to do.”

They left the bar and walked back toward the car. They’d parked Mina’s car on a side street several blocks from the Tomb, so it would be out of sight of the police that surrounded the club.

As they neared the Cadillac, Thalia was abruptly reminded of the night they’d met. Streetlights sliced luminous circles into charcoal shadows. Food cooking, car exhaust, and cigarette smoke thickened the humid air. Music trickled from nearby doorways, as if seeking other songs with which to spend the lonely night.

The sound of flapping wings intruded on her reverie, and drew closer.

A bat. The creature dive-bombed over their heads and flew off. They exchanged pointed glances.

Akos.



Gideon knew they were being led into a trap, but it didn’t stop his body from springing into action. The killing stopped now.

His jaw clenched. Akos had stolen his last life.

He sped after the bat, careful not to outdistance Thalia. It would be just like Akos to circle around behind. He abandoned his disguise as he rounded the corner. The bat flew into a nearby warehouse through a broken pane in its expansive windows.

Gideon approached the double door. Peeling, gray enamel disclosed dark spots of rust in a pattern that looked like bullet holes or drops of blood. A chain hung useless, its lock broken, from one massive metal pull. An invitation from Akos, no doubt.

He waited for Thalia to catch up.

“Are you ready?”

Her eyes were huge in her small face, but she nodded. He reached out and squeezed her hand.

She whispered a word, and a glowing blue shield sprung up around her. “I can’t cover us both. The shield goes both ways. Akos can’t get through to me, but I won’t be able to strike at him either. I’ll dissolve the shield when I need to jump in.”

Gideon nodded. He wished there were no need for her to dissolve the shield. Damnit, he wished she weren’t here at all. He’d gone over the plan a thousand times in his mind, trying to find a way to exclude her, to keep her safe, but Akos would never approach him without Thalia. Gideon might have tracked a younger, less powerful vampire, confronted him on his own terms, but Akos was an ancient, he could cloak himself even from Gideon’s powerful senses.

He reached out and threw open the heavy steel door. It opened in, leaving a yawning black hole. He stared inside, but all he could see was one vast empty space.

They entered. A rush of stale air and the stink of decaying flesh warned Gideon of an attack, and he stepped to the side. The black object hit Thalia’s shield with a sickening crack. She stepped back, unhurt.

The golem that had assaulted them staggered back, lost its footing, then fell to the cement floor and split into rotting pieces.

“Welcome.” Akos’ voice echoed through the cavernous warehouse, startling a flock of pigeons that had been roosting on the rafters. With a rhythmic beating of wings, they darted around the warehouse and out the broken window in a move so reminiscent of the final act of the ritual of power, a deep shudder of foreboding rippled across Gideon’s rigid back and up his neck.

The shaft of moonlight shining through the broken windowpane illuminated a tall figure standing on a flimsy, heavily oxidized catwalk that spanned the width of the warehouse.

Akos waved a hand. Bright florescent lights flickered on and the door slammed shut. “We want the Champion to be able to see what’s happening, don’t we?” Akos leapt to the ground and landed neatly on his feet like a cat.



Thalia’s heart thudded inside her chest. She fought the impulse to run. Sudden rage took the edge off her panic.

This creature had killed Lily and countless others, stealing their lives without a second thought.

He had used her cousin and discarded her with as much regard as a paper cup. He deserved to die a slow, painful death. Fury boiled up from deep within, urging her to disperse her shield and attack, but she resisted. As much as she yearned to personally deliver the justice of her people—the prophecy made one thing very clear, Akos needed her death before Gideon’s. As long as she lived, Gideon was safe.

“You’re late this evening. I’ve already claimed two more lives, that female bartender of yours and a vampiress wannabe.” Akos made a clicking sound. “One would think you didn’t care. Finally showing your little friend your true colors?”

Gideon circled Akos without answering, obviously looking for an opening. Akos turned as Gideon changed position, keeping him in eye contact, but his hands were planted in his pockets.

His arrogance pissed her off. “Gideon is a better man than you’ll ever be.”

Akos tilted his head toward Thalia, acknowledging her for the first time. “Have you told this young lady about our history together? Does she know what kind of an animal you really are?”

Gideon growled and attacked so swiftly he blurred. Akos disappeared. He reappeared back on the catwalk. Gideon now stood where Akos had been.

“You’ll have to do better than that. You had no problems killing me the first time around.”

“Apparently, I did.” Gideon flew up to the catwalk. The ancient supports groaned under his added weight.

Akos took an exaggerated step backward, taunting Gideon. “Luckily for me, Inanna turned me just as I was about to breathe my last breath. Gods, she was beautiful, wasn’t she? Like these, what do they call them? Supermodels. I wonder what you see in the Champion? She’s got your scent all over her, but she’s not much to look at, is she?”

Thalia sucked in a pained breath and her concentration wavered, but she re-focused, angry with herself now. He was probing for weaknesses, and for a second it had worked.

Gideon lunged for Akos, but caught only empty air. He reappeared, standing on the concrete floor and waved one long finger at Gideon, who stood on the catwalk, his face an illustration of thwarted rage. “Ah, ah, ah. I want to have my say first.”

He pivoted toward Thalia.

What was he up to now? She reinforced her shield.

“Inanna was amazing, but when a mortal falls in love with a vampire, he has to ask himself, is it really love or just that incredible magnetism vampires possess?” His tone was smooth and sincere.

How many times had she asked herself that question? Akos smiled, as if he knew he’d gotten under her skin.

This was the first time she’d seen him in good light. Like Gideon and the other vampires in town, he was almost painfully attractive, but he had an oily, insinuating quality about him that made Thalia feel dirty. When she didn’t answer him, he continued, “Then there’s the beauty factor. Really, my sweet, do you think you measure up?”

Before Akos could say anything else, Gideon struck. He plunged an iron rod into Akos’ chest. Akos threw back his head. His scream echoed through the metal building. He grabbed the end of the rod and yanked it out, dropping it on the floor. It clanked as it hit the hard floor. “Missed my heart. Next time, aim a little more to the left.”

He vanished once more to reappear on the catwalk. Gideon followed. The catwalk began to sway. Thalia stifled a cry as the rusted bolts of the supports gave way, snapping with a harsh moan.

Gideon grabbed Akos by the arm. “Where is Inanna?”

His question drove the air from her body. Her gaze flew to Gideon’s face. Was he still in love with his former wife?

“You see my little dove,”—Akos threw his words at her like a weapon—“Now we know where his priorities lie.” With that, he seized Gideon by the biceps and flew up to the rusty ceiling, ramming Gideon into the unyielding metal of the roof. The force of the impact drove them apart, and Gideon fell to the ground. Thalia moved to go to him, but he held up a broad palm.

Akos touched down gently in front of Gideon. “Did you expect to see her?” He shook his head mockingly. “I hate to crush your fantasies, but she’s dead. One more death on your oh-so-convenient conscience.” Akos swung a fist at Gideon. Gideon blocked it and hit air with a strike of his own as Akos leaned away. “It’s a pity,” he continued. “I think she really loved me, but she made one mistake. She turned you.” Hatred made his final words a venomous snarl. “She said it would make you suffer. Unfortunately I see no evidence of that.”

Thalia wondered why Akos loathed Gideon so much, far more than mere competing generals should imply.

“What did I ever do to you to make you hate me so much?” Gideon asked.

“You were born.”

Akos used his foot to pick up the rod Gideon had impaled him with. He passed it from hand to hand, oblivious to the blood soiling his hands. “My mother was one of Akhenu’s concubines. When you were born, he had no need of a bastard son. My mother and I were abandoned out in the wilderness to die, but my mother fooled him. She managed to make it back to her own people.

“I always intended to introduce myself to him when my army marched into Elilu, but you killed him and robbed me of that chance.” With that, he hurled the rod at Gideon like a javelin. Gideon ducked, and it pierced the corrugated aluminum wall behind him, sailing out of sight, leaving a gaping hole.

Thalia felt her eyes widen at this display of strength. She knew Gideon was strong, but was he that strong? Her shield dimmed as worry broke her concentration. She swallowed, gritted her teeth, and fed more energy to the magic barrier.

Akos and Gideon now fought hand-to-hand, trading blow after blow. The taunting had stopped. Grunts of effort, and the thud of blows finding flesh were the only sounds Thalia could hear. They didn’t shape-shift. Thalia got the feeling this fight was too personal for that. The fun and games had ended, and the real battle had begun.

Their limbs blurred as they struck and parried. Thalia couldn’t tell who was winning. Akos lashed a kick Gideon couldn’t move fast enough to evade, knocking him back against the wall. Gideon’s head hit the wall with a hollow clang, and he slid to the ground and stayed there, unconscious.

Thalia yearned to run to him. Her body lurched forward automatically, but she planted her feet. Akos needed her death first. For Gideon’s sake, she must to maintain her shield.

“Thalia?”

She turned her head, searching for the female voice.

A woman stood in the corner. Her clothes were torn and stained, but her face was all too familiar.

“Lily.”

Her cousin smiled and came toward her, arms outstretched. Distracted, Thalia’s shield flicked like a short in a florescent bulb.

She fortified the spell. No matter how much she longed to believe her cousin was alive. She knew the truth. The dream she’d had so many nights earlier was finally happening.

“Thalia, it’s me. You don’t need to be afraid.” Lily advanced as if to embrace her and hit the shield. With a shriek of pain, Lily recoiled and the illusion dropped away, revealing a female revenant. The creature hissed. Fangs bared, she attacked, but the shield was too strong. Repelled, she staggered back, her skin black and charred where it had touched the shining blue energy. Again and again, she attacked and was deflected. Finally, she reeled back and dropped to the floor, twitching, clearly unable to stand.

Thalia felt a drop of sweat slide down her cheek. A shadow flashed by.

Akos.

She spun to confront him. He raised his hands and began to siphon magic from her shield. Thalia fed more power to it. It wavered, growing dimmer and brighter in turns as she struggled to keep up with the drain, reminding Thalia ominously of Mina’s description of what had happened in her vision.

She fell to her knees with the effort. Finally the shield faded altogether, and with a shout of triumph, Akos advanced to fulfill the prophecy.

Thalia scrambled back against the door, frantically feeling above her head for the elusive handle.

Heath burst into the warehouse from a side door.

“Poena!” he yelled. Yellow comets burst from his palms. They hit Akos in a shower of sparks. He screamed, face contorted with pain, and waved a hand in Heath’s direction.

A tidal wave of black mist enveloped Heath, knocking him to the ground. It wrapped around him like a cocoon and hardened, making it impossible for him to speak or move. He struggled for a second, then was still. She couldn’t see him breathing.

“Heath!” Thalia pressed back against the door.

He managed to roll over in the cocoon, and Thalia gave a sigh of relief. He was still alive.

Brushing off the effects of Heath’s pain spell, Akos turned back to Thalia and came forward, arms outstretched. She shrank back.

She’d had a moment of worry when Heath had stepped in, but the plan was working. Akos was taking the bait. He thought she was out of magic. He thought he had won. She stood. “Repellere!” A burst of blue light flashed like lightening from her hands. It hit Akos square in the chest, and he was flung, like the castaway rag doll of a giant. He hit the far wall and shook his head as if to clear it.

Thalia stepped away from the door to deliver the final blow. This was for Lily.

A motion out of the corner of the eye drew her attention. The golem! She spun. “Destruere!” The golem exploded into a million pieces, showering her with debris.

The mortuus spell on her lips, she swung back to finish Akos, but it was too late. An explosion of pain and a blinding white light filled her head.

And then she fell into the shadows.



“Waky, waky.”

Thalia dragged her eyes open. Akos stood above her.

A faint breeze brushed across her cheeks.

Ignoring the steady throbbing in her head, she scanned her surroundings. The feeble light of a distant streetlight etched golden tracings into the night, revealing the irregular surface of a brick wall, the hulking shape of a dumpster. She must be in some kind of alley, but where?

She looked up at Akos’ too-handsome face. His eyes held the gleam of satisfaction, as if he’d already achieved his goal. Fear flooded through her. What had he done? Where was Gideon?

She tried to get up, but the pain that strafed through her chest made her catch her breath. She pressed her hand against the source of the pain and discovered her shirt was warm and wet.

No, not wet—bloody.

“Now, don’t move.” Akos held out his hands, palms down. “I’ve nicked your aorta. That’s your largest artery, in case you didn’t know.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ve made quite a study in death in my thousands of years. Depending on where you cut the aorta, the victim will bleed out in seconds or hours. You, on the other hand, have scant minutes.

“Where to place the cut was a difficult decision. I didn’t want to lose you before Gideon can make his sacrifice. Not after all the trouble I’ve gone to. But he won’t have time to get you to a hospital either,” Akos drawled like a doctor informing a patient about a routine surgical procedure. “And don’t worry, we’re in the alley outside the warehouse. He’ll find you.”

Thalia swallowed with relief. Gideon was alive.

She fought the weakness that urged her to lie back against the crumbling asphalt. If she could keep Akos focused on her, keep him talking, Gideon might be able to take Akos by surprise. “His sacrifice?”

“Come now, my dear. You remember the prophecy?” His face contorted, and to her horror, she found herself face to face with Ursula. Thalia cried out as she realized the psychic was dead. He laughed and his face morphed back to his own. He smiled dryly. “There’s always a prophecy. Mine ends with a sacrifice. It’s all very nebulous, of course, they always are, but I’ve had, uh...a lot of time to think about it. You, or course, are the ‘marked one.’”

Thalia’s blood-encrusted hand covered her birthmark. There was no denying the truth of that.

“You’re also a poisonblood.”

The “P” word was rarely bandied about in a witch’s presence, and he said the word with so much venom, she flinched as if physically struck.

“I had to get you together. I planted the paper with Gideon’s name on it with your cousin’s things to make sure of it.” His face was smug.

And why not? He’d manipulated her from day one and she’d fallen right into his plans at every step. I was such a fool. Angry tears wet her eyes.

“Gideon, being the foolish hypocrite that he is, will rush in, realize you’re dying and try to turn you,” he continued.

Thalia could only shake her head, mutely, denying Akos’ prediction.

“Yes. He will fail, of course, but the poison in your blood will kill him before he has a chance to grieve over your lifeless body. And I will receive power such as the world has never known.”

Thalia fell back on her elbows. Akos’s slick features moved in and out of focus. It was becoming harder and harder to concentrate. Speaking was difficult. Breathing hurt. She was acutely aware that exertion hastened her blood loss, but she had to hold his attention. “What does that mean exactly?”

“Inanna said when the prophecy came to pass, I would never have to worry about the sun again. When I can go about in the day, I will stake the other vampires in their beds until there’s no one left to enforce the Code. I will set the pettys against the witches. No amount of magic will save them from the fury of millions of panic-driven humans. No longer will I be forced to hide like some criminal. I’ll topple the mortal governments and rule, as I was meant to. They will call me God and bring me prey to appease me.” Akos seemed to retreat into his own megalomaniacal fantasy.

“What makes you think Gideon will try to turn me?” Thalia labored to force out the words. She gave in and let her head slump. She prayed Gideon would come soon. How much longer could she hold on? Already the light seemed dimmer, the edges of her vision blurred.

“Don’t be coy. It’s obvious he loves you.”

“You’re crazy,” she said in a whisper. God, she wished what he was saying were true.

Akos simply smiled, his eyes cold and dark as a winter’s night, and Thalia had the terrifying feeling that everything would come to pass just as he’d described. The evil in him seemed too much for his body alone to contain. It sought an outlet, so it could feed and grow like a cancer, perverting everything decent in its path.



Gideon woke and frantically swept the warehouse with his gaze.

Thalia was gone.

Panic lifted him to his feet. A muffled cry from a far corner turned his head. He ran to the sound and found Heath encased in a sticky, black cocoon. He knelt and ripped it open.

The mage fought his way out of the vile, stinging stuff and braced himself on his hands and knees, choking and gasping for air.

“Where has he taken her?” Gideon demanded.

“They just left,” Heath spit out between coughs. “He said something about the alley.”

Of course, Akos wouldn’t want to ruin his chances to fulfill the prophecy. He would stay nearby.

“Are you all right?”

Heath nodded. “But he drained my magic.”

Gideon put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Get the police.”

Heath nodded again and began to rise to his feet. Gideon went to the door of the warehouse and listened for a moment. He could hear voices. Akos was speaking just around the corner.

Gideon vaulted to the top of a nearby building and used the rooftops to circle around until he was on the building on the other side of the alley.

Something hit the wall across the alley. Probably a piece of gravel. Thalia raised her head.

Gideon was here. She had to be ready.

She held her breath as she watched him jump from one building to another.

Akos followed her gaze and laughed. “Ah, company. Right on time. I guess it’s time to take my leave.”

No. He couldn’t teleport. Thalia surged forward and grabbed his ankle. “You’re not going anywhere.” He drew back his other foot to kick her. “Go ahead, kill me now!” she bit out through gritted teeth. “You’ll never fulfill your prophecy.”

“Tell the Champion to let me go,” he called into the darkness. “She doesn’t have much time.” He jerked his foot in an attempt to free himself.

Pain stabbed through her, and her head swam, but she shifted, determined to maintain her hold. She felt around with her other hand for something—anything—to use as a weapon and struck something cold and cylindrical.



Gideon leaped to the ground. Thalia lay on the dirty, buckled tarmac; her face strained and her chest pitched as she struggled to keep hold of Akos’ leg and stop him from teleporting. She was obviously in pain and seemed unable to get up.

He stepped forward, trembling with the effort of restraining his rage. A drop of cold rain, then another, landed on his shoulder, but his attention never wavered from his enemy. He grabbed Akos by the upper arms, digging his fingers into the ancient’s ropy muscles.

Thalia fell back, panting. The sight of her pale face and shivering body snapped Gideon’s control. He shook Akos like a dog, hard enough to break a mortal’s neck. “What have you done to her?”

Akos smirked. Water slicked down his long black hair and dripped off his bulky shoulders. Gideon’s hands must have bruised his flesh with crushing force, but he seemed undaunted. “She’s as good as dead.”

Gideon growled. Reason gave way to the fury and fear that burned within him. He seized Akos by the throat, squeezing so powerfully he could feel the bones of his enemy’s spine. He would have pulverized the throat of a younger, weaker vampire, but the rogue just laughed.

Akos drew back his leg, perhaps to kick Gideon away, but stopped short. He choked. There was horrible sucking sound, and the end of a metal rod, flickering with the unique blue light of Thalia’s magic, flowered from his chest. He looked down at the blood-coated pole, his eyes rounded in surprise.

“I may be dead, but so are you,” Thalia said from behind him, her face a vengeful mask.

As his hands rose to clutch the rod, Akos crumpled in on himself like a fire-brittle log, shattering under the assault of a poker. Soon he formed a pile of gray ash. The rod fell with Akos’ remains and hit the ground with a crash. The pouring rain beat the little hill of ash into mud and began to carry it away.

Thalia balanced on her knees for a moment, arms out, palms up to the rain, letting it wash away the blood on her hands. Her ponytail holder had broken, and her hair clung to her cheeks like tiger stripes.

Gideon swept her off the wet asphalt and widened the hole in the side of the warehouse. He stepped through and laid Thalia on the dry floor. The scent of her blood hung rich and potent in the stale air. What had Akos done to her?

The door burst open.

A half dozen or so police officers piled into the room led by Cole and Poole, their weapons drawn. Rain beat at their backs and spattered the dusty concrete. “Get down on the floor, Damek. Get down! I said get down!” Cole repeated, her features tight with purpose.

Gideon had no time for this. “Get out,” he commanded, his voice the roar of a wounded animal, the compulsion in his tone so powerful the police officers grabbed their heads as they ran from the building.

Gideon sank to his knees and cradled Thalia’s head in his lap. She panted, her chest heaving as she fought for air, her porcelain skin coated with a fine sheen of perspiration.

He examined her, letting his mind float through her body, studying her systems one by one. What he saw terrified him. She had only a matter of minutes before she bled out internally. Even if he teleported her directly to an operating room, no earthly power could save her. He could feel her life force ebbing.

He had seen every kind of injury in his vast life, but he’d never been so helpless. He felt as if he were stuck in some cruel nightmare from which he was unable to wake. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t end like this.

But it was.

“God, it hurts,” Thalia whispered. “Can’t breathe.”

A tear streaked down her cheek. She writhed, moaning in the dust. Through their mental link, he could feel the pain that scoured her body. Her face was paper-white with agony. She clutched at his hand. “I love you, Gideon.”

He had been unable to absorb her earlier confession, but this time her words found some receptive part of him and stuck.

She loved him.

Thalia loved him.

His chest ached, but his feet and hands felt numb. How could he lose her when it seemed like only yesterday that she’d been born?

The monster broke free. His claws descended. His fangs extruded, but the demon only cried his pain to the skies. His roar recoiled through the building like a cannon backlash. And he recognized that Thalia had been right all along. There was no monster, merely a man. A man who would give anything to go back and have the chance to watch Thalia grow old, to have her for even just one year, one month, one day, one hour, more. Fear had given birth to the creature, a fear for which he no longer had the luxury. “I love you, too.”

Thalia smiled weakly. “You don’t have to be nice.” She coughed, drowning in her own poisonous blood.

“It’s the truth.”

“Okay,” she said, but he could tell she didn’t believe him, that she imagined he was only trying to comfort her. He damned the world that had convinced her she was unlovable.

She shook uncontrollably. Her skin felt like ice. She was slipping away, and there was nothing he could do.

Death had finally beaten Gideon Damek.

Anguish wracked his large body. He didn’t want to be without her. Couldn’t face the endless years alone anymore.

He made a decision. He couldn’t turn her. But he could take away her pain. He could make her last moments a time of joy for them both. He would take her blood.

“Lie back,” he said. “I can’t stop the bleeding, but I’ll take away the pain.” He lowered his mouth to the translucent skin of her throat.

As his teeth scraped her skin, she realized his deadly intent. She placed a weak hand on his chest. “Gideon, no. Don’t. You’ll die. And it doesn’t hurt so much anymore.”

“I don’t want to live without you.” The words hung unvarnished in the air. There was no compulsion in his tone, no pretense, just complete and utter truth. He held her gaze, urging her to believe.

Thalia gasped. Acceptance finally dawned in her crystalline eyes, but still she held him back. “You’ll be fine.” Her voice broke.

“I won’t do this against your will, but you should know I’ll walk into the dawn before I’ll spend another worthless minute without you.”

“Oh, Gideon.” Her eyes were sad. Tears sparkled in the corners. She hesitated, then closed her eyes and turned her head, baring her soft throat to him with a sigh.