“Where is he?” She tried not to give away how much she needed to know where he’d put Davyn. There had to be a salt circle somewhere in this apartment, but how did he get Davyn to shut up? Salt didn’t stop demons from talking. And why did it stink of hell?
“You angered me the last time we were together, ma belle. It is not like you to be so unkind, nor is it like you to keep me waiting so long. I do not enjoy your tardiness.” He’d known she was coming here. It was a setup. “But I forgive you.”
“How did you even know I was alive?”
He looked confused. “Because I can feel your heartbeat.”
Bullshit. “You can’t feel anything, let alone my heartbeat. If you could, you would’ve known I wasn’t dead when you tossed me into that ditch.”
“Do you think that’s what happened? That I threw you away?” He laughed silently. “No, chérie. I could never throw you away. I feel too deeply for you.” Each of his steps forward made her step back, until he’d maneuvered her into a large empty room. Someday this might be a place a family would make good memories. Ones they wanted to keep. “You don’t remember, do you? What I said to you when I laid you by the road. When our lips met one final time.” His eyes were distant, as if he really was remembering, as if it had been a magical moment he could still picture after all this time.
“The memory gets a little fuzzy after a person’s heart stops beating.”
His full lips curled and his smile grew slowly, like a child’s. No, like a monster’s. “I would never have allowed that. I let you go.”
“Strange.” Her throat started to tighten, her breath growing more and more shallow. “I distinctly remember waking up in a ditch.” His laugh only made her sicker.
“I would not have let you go anywhere unless I knew you would be safe. And you were. As soon as your body had time to heal, you got to safety. Because that was what I desired.”
She shook her head. No, he hadn’t freed her. He’d kept her until she was no fun anymore. He hadn’t deliberately let her go.
No. She heard herself whimper only after it was too late to stop it from happening.
Believing she could’ve still been locked in that dungeon was the only reason she’d gotten through the last few years. In that moment, in that ditch, her life had started over. Her life wasn’t his anymore. It belonged to her. Just like everything since then. But if he was telling the truth, if he’d freed her, he still controlled her. She never escaped and she never would. Her freedom wasn’t real. Her life wasn’t real. None of it.
All the time and energy she’d spent training—wasted. Dreams of shoving a stake through his heart—useless. Nightmares she’d had every night, every time she relaxed—his.
Every moment of the last six years didn’t belong to her, not even the ones with Davyn. Because it was Lamere’s choice that Keira kept living. It was his decision that her heart was still beating. Her pride, her security, her youth—all things that the vampire could take from her. Again. But he’d never intended to kill her. After all of this, her life had never been in danger.
“I don’t believe you.” She tried to keep her voice strong, a last-ditch effort to control something. “You never would have let me go.”
“The greatest of human artists die like paupers, misunderstood and diseased, their talent unappreciated until long after their bodies are found.”
Not in a ditch. Not like hers was.
“I will never die.” He caught her as she fell, as her legs and her will gave out. Every ounce of strength, courage, hope disappeared. Her head dropped forward as he shifted his grip, taking her by his favorite handhold—her neck. She didn’t struggle or fight. Why bother? She’d lose anyway, just like she had up until this moment, and always would. It was her fate to lose everything.
“When an artist creates something,” he said, “he can only truly understand his gift by allowing others to see his work.” He caressed her jaw, brushed the hair out of her eyes, his grip on her neck never lessening. “You are exquisite. So beautiful, so strong, so rare. In all of creation, there has never been anything like you. Watching you, seeing you through the eyes of others is my greatest joy. Even your demon. His actions and the way he protected you proved that he saw you as I do. As I made you. He understood what you really are—a masterpiece.”
“My demon.” Remembering Davyn woke her up, reminding her that she had someone who cared about her, wanted her, and needed her. “What about…my demon?”
It shouldn’t have been possible, but his grip tightened. She clawed at Lamere’s hand, begged with her eyes. For what? To let her breathe, or to let her die?
“Your artistry moved him so powerfully, he would’ve gone against everything he was to have you.”
She tried to ask, demand Lamere tell her why he used the past tense. The words came out as a desperate whimper, unable to escape her throat.
When he realized she was dying, that he was slowly and painfully suffocating her, Lamere grimaced, irritated, as if she’d inconvenienced him. He lessened his grip only slightly, but she reeled from the return of blood flow to her brain. “I could not allow the demon to ruin my work, take what was never his to own.”
“What did you do to him?” A scratchy whisper only a supernatural being could hear, born of pain from the vampire’s touch and fear of what he would say next.
“The portal sent him where he belongs, chérie.” That’s what must have been in the other room.
“You sent him to hell.” Davyn didn’t belong there—Lamere did.
Tears slid down her face. Lots of tears. Some were a reaction to the smell and some were because she felt overwhelmed with relief. If Lamere hadn’t sent Davyn back, the stubborn demon would’ve stayed and sacrificed his eternity.
“You were mistaken to give your heart to him,” the vamp said. “A mistake that might have led you to giving him more. Giving him a part of you that is, and will always be, mine.” He scoffed when she laughed, a bitter, constricted laugh. “What is wrong with you?”
Lots, but that’s not why she was laughing. Lamere had opened the portal, so Davyn went to Level One. Not Nine.
“When my demon comes back, he’s going to kill me, and all your hard work will be gone. That’s why he didn’t want to go back to hell. If you’d waited, he wouldn’t have been allowed to come back at all, you piece of shit.”
Lamere slapped her and shook his head. “You will show me the respect I deserve.” He struck her again, harder this time. “If the demon had stayed any longer you would’ve given your soul to him. I saw the way he looked at you, took care of you. If you shared your soul, he would’ve been locked to you forever.”
She liked having something that made the vampire uncomfortable, borderline nervous. “What do you mean?”
“A human soul is strong enough for two, but only if it is shared equally and remains in proximity. Had you given your soul to him, he would have a measure of control over you and thus over me, simply by threatening to leave. I could never allow that to happen. No being shall ever have power over me.”
He turned away, as if he heard something she couldn’t.
Davyn? Please-please-please let it be him.
“Six years ago I made a wish.” Lamere dismissed the sound, pulling her to him, smiling. “A magical wish asking the powers to send me the one I was to spend my eternity with, who would bring me joy beyond anything I’d felt before. A Champion in her own right, to be tested and to triumph. I would know her because she would see me as no other ever has or ever will.”
He leaned closer. “I thought only to find my true mate, but the magic heard more than my desires. No one but my soulmate can find me. The magic prevents it.”
“Yeah, well, too bad all she’s gonna find is a pile of dust.”
He laughed. “You’ve already found me, ma petite. The first time we crossed paths and all the times afterwards. Because I wished it.”
No, that wasn’t possible. “I’m not your mate.” Her heart pounded in her
chest, through her veins, her limbs shaking from the force.
“Of course you are. You bring me so much joy, chérie.” While being tortured. “For what other reason were you always able to find me?”
“Because I’m smart, and I’m good at what I do.”
He tilted his head. “Because I made you that way.”
“If you thought I was your mate, why did you throw me away?”
“Set something free...”
If it returns, it’s yours forever. Bullshit. The powers did not send her to him to torture and rape. They wouldn’t do that. They couldn’t do that. Although they’d done worse things to the world.
“And, now that you have returned to me weakened, I cannot wait any longer. Your humanity has misled you. The demon lied to you and would have ruined you. Your soul doesn’t belong to him.”
“It doesn’t belong to you, either.” Her eyes stung so badly, she could barely keep them open.
“Of course it does.” Chuckling, he ran his fangs along her jaw, and then traced her lips, opening up her skin and letting her blood run, then licking it off. “You were created for me. Not a demon, nor anyone else. Me. As I wished it to be.”
“He was right.”
Lamere turned towards the voice, spinning Keira with him. The female vampire who’d gone through the portal with Drinod stood in the doorway across from them, her skin blistered, her eyes horribly pained.
“This is an inconvenient time.” Besides a tightening of his grip, Lamere didn’t seem bothered, the pitch and cadence of his voice unchanged.
“Inconvenient?” The vampire came through the kitchen doorway. “Do you even remember who I am?” Her steps were labored, as if she were dragging an invisible burden. “You promised you would let me go. But you broke your promise. You used my life to get what you wanted and then you threw away my eternity.”
“I didn’t take your soul.” The vampire flung Keira slightly to the side, keeping himself between her and the demon protectively. “If you’re looking for revenge, let what remains of your soul lead you to the demon who stole the rest.”
“You made me and then damned me. That was your plan all along, wasn’t it? Let him take my soul and then send him back, knowing what would happen, knowing I would be stuck there forever.”
“Yet you’ve returned. How?”
“Davyn. He got me out.” She paused, her slowly developing smile exposing razor-edged fangs. If Keira didn’t see so much of herself in the female, she might have cheered at hearing Davyn’s name. But this poor thing had not only gone through some of what Keira had, she’d also been condemned to an eternity she’d done nothing to deserve.
“Impossible.” Lamere laughed. “No demon has ever aided another being in hell, particularly while being re-created.”
“He did. You left the portal open, Lamere.” She flicked her head back the way she’d come. “With no protections on it at all. If any of them had found the gate, they could’ve come up here and you wouldn’t have been able to stop them.”
“I don’t care.” The finality in his comment shocked Keira into gasping, something she regretted because it brought attention back to her. Dang, and they’d been doing so well without her.
“You should,” the female said. “Because I made a deal with Davyn. Time works differently there, so before his re-forging began, he found me. He told me where the portal was and how to use it. In return”—she closed her eyes—“I promised I wouldn’t hurt the human when I killed you.”
Either distracted or overconfident, Lamere dropped Keira at his feet. She knew she should run. The world was full of last chances, and so few were taken.
“I am over three hundred years old,” Lamere said. “How could you possibly kill me, young one?”
By not being alone. Without warning, Keira wrapped her arms around both of Lamere’s legs and pulled them out from under him. Cursing, he spun as he pitched forward and reached out for her. The female vamp jumped on top of him, all trace of her burden gone. Keira shoved herself back, scrambled to her feet, and covered her ears to the snarls.
Whatever happened in hell had taught the female a lot more than how to survive. She didn’t just fight—she used every part of her body to take Lamere down. Keira saw a flash of his shocked expression before he rolled, trying to get on top of his attacker. Her desperation, need for revenge, and everything he’d put her through came back at him.
Claws ripped open clothes and skin as they grappled. She moved so quickly, Lamere couldn’t get a good enough hold to throw her off him. Keira kept her back against the wall, staring at the door just across the room. The fight in front of her was too unpredictable to know which way to go. If she got caught in it, they’d rip her apart.
The female braced her foot against the wall, stopping their spin while she was on top. It was the first time they were still since the fight began, so Keira didn’t know how badly either of them was injured. Bones were snapped, flesh gouged, arms limp or held at odd angles until their healing powers kicked in. It wouldn’t end until Lamere had sent the female back to hell or died.
Die, you bastard. Just die.
Lamere blinked wildly under her, the pool of blood under him spreading, drops flying each time she struck his head against the floor. He was losing consciousness.
“Go!” the female screamed at Keira.
“No! No, I can’t.” Not because she couldn’t pass them. “I need to see him die.”
“No, you need to get me a piece of wood.” She flicked her head towards the direction she’d come from. Keira ran into the next room and grabbed the first slivered chunk of wood she found. Red coals had consumed the other half of it. She heard bone crack and saw the female drop Lamere’s head distastefully. She cursed when she saw the burning two-by-four in Keira’s hand.
“It’ll work. Just use the other side.”
“Not what I was worried about.” She grabbed it from the side that was on fire, and then flipped it around. “You need to get out of here. This whole place is going to go up.”
“Please,” Keira begged. She was so close. If she wasn’t the one who killed him, she at least deserved to watch him turn into dust.
“You idiot. I made a deal that I wouldn’t get you hurt. You burning alive probably qualifies.”
“But—”
“When this is done, I have to go back down. It will be even worse for me if they found out I broke a deal.”
“I’m sorry.” Keira understood. Even though she felt a kinship to the female, the female felt nothing for her. She’d been raped, had part of her soul ripped out of her, turned immortal, and then condemned to hell. Nothing remained of the person she’d once been. Now that she’d gotten her revenge on Lamere, the only thing she had left was survival.
The floor shifted as if it was close to collapse.
“Go, seer!”
She hesitated, wanting to think of a message the female could pass on to Davyn even more than she wanted to watch Lamere die.
When she realized that Davyn probably already hated her, she ran.
She slumped to the ground when she saw the first firefighter, knowing she should keep running but unable to. It’s too hard to run when you’re empty. Where would she go, anyway? Home?
Her weak chuckle went unheard by the emergency personnel now flooding the pier.
They shouted questions at her. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” she lied, giving them an answer to make them leave her alone. It didn’t work. The questions kept coming.
“Was anyone else inside?” “Could someone still be alive?”
“No.” This was the Heights. No one who lived in the Heights was still alive inside.
Thirty-Four
As per Heights protocol, evidence was planted and minds altered until the fire could be explained without any connection to the supernatural. Despite her countless protests, Keira was taken to the hospital. As soon as she was alone, she snuck out and spent the rest of the day walking around numbly. Not
sure of anything anymore.
The next day, she tried to eat. She waited twenty-four hours and tried again. The day after that she went to the gym. Training seemed like a good idea considering someone would be trying to kill her in a few days. She went through the motions. Again and again. Because that’s all she could do. That’s all any of this was—another day to go through the motions.
Thinking the city was the wrong place for her right now, she packed up nothing at all and started driving, not paying attention to anything but the next one hundred feet of road. It didn’t matter where she went—Davyn would find her. She’d seen a movie when she was younger and less empty. She didn’t remember much other than that the hero saying, “I will find you,” to the heroine. “I will find you.” Really romantic. Except of course that in her case, instead of the hero saying it, it was said by the demon who was planning to kill her.
She pulled off the freeway so she could be safely pathetic. A short breakdown before she had to suck it up and decide how to deal with Davyn when he came back. When the moment was over, she realized where she’d driven.
Home. No, this hasn’t been my home for six years.
Instead of leaving immediately, she drove around the corner and parked behind a neighbor’s tree. If she tilted her head, she could see her parent’s front door, but they wouldn’t be able to see her. Perfect.
She stayed there all day, watching the house, wondering what she’d do if someone opened that door. With her forehead resting on the steering wheel and her palms pressed against her eyes, forbidding any outward emotion, she waited. What was she going to do? How could she save herself and Davyn? What did she have to do to make things the way they should be?
“Hello.”
She flinched, impressed with herself for having lost all her survival instinct so damn quickly. Her fists unclenched when she realized who it was.