* * * * *
The glow of victory faded as we picked our way slowly up the hill, to be replaced by fatigue and aftershocks of emotion. I saw the face of my own death. It would be burned in my memory forever.
Cynthie stopped so suddenly that I bumped into her back. "More trouble," she murmured.
I followed her gaze to the figures materializing out of the darkness of the trees. Darius was at the head of the pack and a handful of Blooded followed behind him.
They closed ranks as we approached, caution written into their movements and the furtive glances cast into the darkness. The Blooded considered me a threat. The thought was almost enough to cheer me up.
"Is it done?" Darius spoke softly as if he worried Valentine would leap from the trees in a vengeful rage.
"Valentine's dead, if that's what you mean," Cynthie replied with insouciant sweetness.
Incredulous murmurs rose from the Blooded men behind him and Darius cut them off with a harsh sound. He turned back, and for first time ever respect tinged his expression as he regarded me. "How did you do it?"
"He let me in." I suppressed a shudder at the memory of his face, moments before he would have cut me down. "I guess that's all it took."
"I told you this would work," Darius crowed triumphantly as he turned to the men behind him. "No more rules. No more restraint. I rule the Blooded now."
I shivered despite the heat. Had I unleashed something more terrible than what had been destroyed?
"Not quite," Cynthie interrupted pleasantly. Her effervescent humor was scarier than an open threat. Nothing she said next would be good. "It's Hex's kill. If anyone should lead the Blooded, it's her."
Darius and I both turned on her at the same time.
"I don't think so—"
"Don't be ridiculous—"
"Isn't that how it goes? To the victor go the spoils." Her voice was cutting but a small smile played at the corner of her lips. "You weren't strong enough to destroy Valentine on your own, Darius. You don't deserve to take his place."
"She wouldn't survive a week," Darius scoffed.
"Oh, I don't know. I think little Helena still has a few tricks up her sleeve," Cynthie mused. She cast me a sardonic glance. "Isn't that right, Hex?"
Cynthie knew. Maybe she could feel it or it might have been just a guess. Either way, she saw more than she'd let on in the library.
In the moment that Valentine died, my magic returned to me in a jubilant rush. But it hadn't just been my power. When I gave myself to Valentine, he took a small piece of my humanity away, just enough to weaken his immortality. He had offered himself to me in kind, never expecting the result. My magic returned and a part of his came with it.
Darius glared at me from across the clearing. The men behind him stood uneasy, unsure which side was the safest—his or mine. As the hatred burned in his eyes, I realized the truth. Just like Valentine, the families would never let me go. As long as I was free, I remained a threat. The people I loved would never be safe. To protect them, I had to become the thing I hated most.
"The kill was mine." I spoke softly. "The reward is mine."
"Bitch. You won't take this from me."
His power built in the air, bright and charged like a lightning storm.
"You want to wrestle for it?" I laughed. I imagined him burning, flames licking at his skin. A blaze that circled his body so there was no escape.
Darius screamed.
The inferno would melt the skin from his bones and char the remains. Nothing would remain but the smoking husk of what he used to be. It wasn't my fire. It was Valentine's.
I turned away and Darius fell to the ground, shivering and gasping for breath. I wasn't like Valentine. I understood mercy.
I approached him and knelt so I our eyes were level. His back spasmed as his breath came in harsh gasps. "If I ever see you again," I whispered. "I'll kill you."
"One day you'll slip up," he spit. "And I'll be there."
"Don't keep me waiting." I replied sweetly.
I turned to the Blooded who eyed me warily.
"It's over."
The three men exchanged glances. The one in front gave a small nod and they faded into the tree line, disappearing from the direction they came.
I looked around the clearing and realized that Cynthie was gone. I raced to the top of the hill and saw with relief that the yacht was still moored to the dock, rocking peacefully on the calm waves.
Cynthie was at the tiller when I climbed on board. She held a compass upside down in her hands and shook it like a magic-8 ball. I shrugged and left her to it. At this point, I didn't care if we ended up in New Zealand as long as I could put this place behind me.
I climbed down the stairs to go below and ran straight into Sam as she came out of one of the bedrooms. Our heads knocked together with a hard crack.
She stumbled back and rubbed her forehead. "Jeez Hex, you're head is like a rock."
"Sam!" I wrapped my arms around her and squeezed her hard. I pulled back just far enough to check for any obvious injury. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." She pushed me gently away with a laugh. "You're the one who ran off to chase after the evil demon guy." She looked around and her brow knitted in confusion. "Wait, are we on a boat? I don't—how did we get here?"
I stared in shock before realization hit. I distinctly remembered seeing a glamour for altering memory in the grimoire. Trust Cynthie to be preemptive.
"It's okay," I said soothingly. "I promise I'll explain everything later."
"Woah." She stumbled and would have fallen without the arm I wrapped around her for support. "I feel strange."
"You should sleep," I suggested. "You must be exhausted."
"Yeah, I should lay down." She pushed open the bedroom the door and used the wall for support to walk into the room. Sam looked over her shoulder at me and smiled. "Thanks, Hex."
I smiled back and fought the inexplicable tears that threatened to well up and spill down my cheeks. "Sleep well."
I closed the door softly behind her and took a steadying breath.
Zach was still asleep when I entered the last bedroom. I sat next to him on the bed and laid the back of my hand against his cheek. I noticed with relief that his skin was warm and his breathing came deep and even. I bent to lay a kiss on his still lips.
"He won't remember it." Cynthie spoke from the open doorway. "I thought that might be better."
"You're right," I said, without looking at her. There were a hundred things that lay unspoken between us. I had no idea how to put any of it into words. We might not be mortal enemies but that didn't mean we were on the same side. Not really.
I held out the grimoire to her, ignoring the pang of regret as she slid it from my fingers.
"I knew you took it," she said, but her voice was more amused than accusing. She traced her fingers over the leather cover.
"If I didn't have that spell for Valentine, we'd both be dead."
She shrugged. "I guess that means I can forgive you."
"Thank you for coming back to me. I'd be dead otherwise." My voice was shaky. I could still see Valentine's face as he loomed over me.
Cynthie brushed me off. "I figure if anyone gets the pleasure of killing you, it should be me." She frowned down at her nails. Her manicure was trashed beyond repair. "At least you keep things interesting."
"Does this mean we're friends now, or something?"
"No chance in hell."
"Just checking," I said with a laugh.
I forced myself to stand and walk away from Zach's still form. He needed to sleep. There would be time enough tomorrow for more.
"Everything should be back to normal," Cynthie said as we walked down the hall.
I shook my head, admitting it even to myself as I spoke. "Things won't ever be the same."
Through the porthole window, the expanse of ocean spread out before us. I didn't have peace or safety, but I was alive. I was starting to think that was as good as
it was ever going to get.