Chapter 10

London, England

 

At ten a.m. sharp she heard a sharp knock on the front door. A French woman bustled in with two harried looking assistants pushing a rack behind them. The assistants wouldn’t make eye contact which made Val think that the woman either ran a very tight ship or had a lot of vampire customers.

Closing the door, she walked back into her living room watching as the assistants unzipped garment bags and shook dresses free from their plastic covers. Dresses were draped haphazardly around her living room and a large mirror with three panels was set up, so she could really know which dress made her ass look fat.

The woman knew fashion but as to why Val needed the gown, she either wouldn't say or didn’t know. The modiste called the event a ball and all the gowns seemed to support that statement. Huge princess dresses that required corsets were brought out.

Honestly, if Spanx wasn't enough, she wasn't sure she should go. She wouldn't eat anything else for the rest of the day. The dresses were suited for the Academy Awards or the Golden Globes, not for someone like her.

There it was again— the unreality of her situation. She was a normal girl and he was…well, dead.

The modiste studied Val critically and decided against several dresses instantly. The woman said the color clashed with her hair and skin tone but Val wondered if the dresses clashed with her personality instead. They were soft dresses that required a dainty woman to wear them. Val didn't do dainty. She did hysterical, angry, lusty, afraid and irritated to perfection.

Eventually, all the clothes and accessories were decided upon. The gowns were rezipped and packed away, the modiste bustled back out again, taking her assistants with her and Valerie was alone. Waiting for Lucas and wearing a deep blue gown the color of the ocean.

Her breasts were high and mounded, her waist nipped in thanks to the corset. She really didn’t need to look this desirable.

An extra accessory had been given to Valerie which made her realize this was not going to be a normal party. It was a little purse that dangled from her wrist. It was black velvet and had a gold L embossed on the front with a fleur de lis pattern woven through the material. The modiste said it was so everyone would know who she belonged to.

With almost no time to spare Val put on her lipstick and was ready to go. Her hair was pinned up into a mass on top of her head that exposed her neck. Something she thought might be fantastically stupid, but that the modiste’s assistant insisted was a requirement.

Val thought taking her hair down, but she wasn't sure if she needed to be that petty. She suspected there would be bigger compromises asked for before the night was through, so she left her hair alone and waited.

When the clock struck six she was looking out the window and watching people walk by, hurrying through the eternal rain to go home, probably to a family and hot dinner. A small rush of power wafted over her like pinpricks against her skin. She turned and saw Lucas come out of her bedroom, one big hand fixing the cuff of his crisp white shirt. Good Lord, he could be in a magazine modeling anything from $50,000 watches to expensive cologne.

He wore a black tuxedo minus the bow tie. Again the collar was open and she could see the hollow of his throat, her eyes drawn there despite herself. His deep blue eyes lifted and took in her appearance, starting from her voluminous skirts, to her corseted waist, passing quickly to her face. The gown matched his eyes, she realized, wondering if it was on purpose. He looked at her lips and she had the urge to lick thm but frantically tried to hold still.

A velvet cloak rested over one arm, which he opened and held for her to put on. Smiling slightly, he watched her come towards him and Valerie blushed, looking away. He fastened the collar around her neck, red rubies glinting on the clasp.

He flipped it around her shoulders, like a matador baiting a bull. I don’t want to be the animal.

The cloak was lined with fur and her hands stroked the softness rhythmically, in an attempt to calm her nerves. She could smell his cologne and felt like it was just as heavy and enveloping as the cloak upon her. It was him, this masculine smell that made her relax and feel almost drugged.

Val watched him placidly as he adjusted the drape of her hood. She took in his long lashes and harsh cheekbones, admired the full plumpness of his lips and his near human heat. Lucas reached behind her and pulled the hood of the cape over her face, shifting it so she would be shadowed to anyone that looked.

He'd just fed, she wasn't quite sure how she knew but she did and the sudden image of another woman in his arms, her neck bared for him to penetrate her skin as she gave herself to him had her clenching her hands in dark agitation.

Had he slept with her too?

As though he sensed her change in mood, he finished adjusting her cape to his liking and stepped away from her.

Who was it? Who had he fed from? She knew whoever it was had been willing. How could they not be? Who would, even could, tell him no, he was so beautiful? In her mind she could see it, his hand on some woman’s neck as he tilted her just how he wanted her. The power of his body as he stepped in close to her, and even worse, the utter focus he’d have for her. This faceless bitch gave him something he needed.

Something she didn’t. 

Her lips pressed together in a hard line to stop her accusations. She took a deep breath, aware that she was being irrational.

Lucas waited, saying nothing while she composed herself but watching her with a look of mild curiosity. She was so contradictory in her feelings towards him. She hated him and lusted after him, feared him and wished to never see him again. Yet the idea that another held his interest made her jealous and angry. It all added up to a death wish, she just knew it.

His hair was straight and thick, hanging heavily down his back, waiting for her to sink her hands into it, pull him towards her and kiss him. She'd show him how angry she was, make him take only her.

In a red haze, she imagined what it would be like to bite him and claim him, make him hers. Her knees weakened, the idea of marking him so powerful and heady that she feared she might collapse. She looked down and saw his hands, one open but tense, like he might have to push her away, while the other one was fisted and she wondered if he somehow knew the insanity whirling through her mind.

She took a deep breath to clear her mind but the jealousy grew. He is mine, her mind seethed. The dark rightness of them finding a home deep in her body.

Fixated on his neck, she thought about breaking his skin, the blood of another woman pouring out of his neck so she could replace it with her own. She made a noise in her throat. A feral sound of anguish and anger.

“Do not Valerie.” His voice was quiet and commanding.

She closed her eyes against him, against the overpowering desire to hurt and mark him. Her breath hissed out from her and she dragged in another equally ragged breath of air.

Air that was filled with the scent of him. She was overwhelmed by him, her senses heightened, making her hands tingle with the desire to touch him. Her body opened, ached and she felt herself becoming wet and urgent. She needed to be with him.

He’ll let me. He wants me just as much as I want him.

Val leaned in towards him, taking a step closer, but he backed up from her, maintaining distance.

He did it humanly slow and she wondered if he was trying to play hard to get or trying not to startle her with a sudden move. Smart man, she decided, feeling like a wild animal, provoked by him.

She was hungry for him, all of him, blood, flesh, anything she could steal from him, she would. Part of her mind was screaming at her, telling her the desire wasn’t right, but reason meant nothing to her.

Quickly, she darted forward, trying to hurtle herself into his arms, no intent beyond getting to him when he stopped her easily. “Valerie, Valerie, this is my fault. My mistake. Sit for a moment and let me fix this.”

Lucas began to set her away from him gently, trying to extricate himself from her hold without hurting her, but that was the last thing she wanted and it made her aggressive, harder to get a hold of while staying gentle. With one hand she tried to grab onto him. His shoulder, his hair, his flesh—  she didn't know what she was reaching for. But she came into contact with his neck and felt her nails rake down his skin.

He froze, his lips becoming a taut line and she was arrested by the beauty of him, a beauty that had been momentarily humanized and therefore magnified. Blood welled in fine lines where she had scraped him. Her gaze fastened there and she wanted to lick those wounds, taste him and then bite him. She imagined her whole mouth filling with his blood and feared she would have an orgasm right there.

Val tore her gaze away, examined her beige carpet, the feeling of wrongness increasing and she tried to shake herself free from what was surely some sort of madness.

Lucas was speaking but she was concentrating so hard on trying to control herself that she didn't hear his words. She felt his cool fingers lifting her chin and then she was looking into his eyes. She heard his voice commanding her, low and urgent. Open to me, he said and she wanted to tell him that she didn't understand and she didn't know how when his eyes became a swirl of blue and silver.

She fell forward into the depths of his eyes until the apartment was gone, she was gone and all that was left was blue.

When she came back to herself she was on the couch. Lucas sat in a chair across from her, watching her with a closed expression. She felt fine, rested actually, but then the memory of how she'd acted and what she had wanted to do came back to her.

“What was it?” She knew that wasn't her, the sick desire to have his blood, to tear him apart, aching with hunger and jealousy for this man who was a monster.

“A miscalculation on my part. My apologies.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” She sat up and her hand went to her neck, checking to make sure he hadn't bitten her while she was unconscious.

He sighed as though it irritated him to have to explain. “When the Fey were part of this world they had great magic which was often traded or given as part of a good faith bargain or a gift. I wore a ring that I was given a very long time ago which I had hoped would reveal those who were plotting against me.”

“You wore a ring that would make people want to sleep with you and tear your throat out?”

He looked to her, away, and then down, finally hiding his expression altogether and he could have been laughing or maybe, even slightly bashful? Seemed unlikely. When he looked at her again his expression was inscrutable.

“The ring erases caution and prompts one to act. It's almost a compulsion to follow their...impulses. Their dark desires. In this case I had expected that it would make those vampires who were not in support of me speak out.”

She had lots of questions but most of them she wasn't sure she wanted answers to. “What kind of party is this where you want a big formal-wearing brawl?”

He inclined his head slightly which she took as a ‘touche’ sort of response. “It’s never prompted a brawl before. Again you prove to be unique. Tonight is the ball for those that are claimed, human companions that share blood with only one vampire. They are chosen by that vampire and marked as exclusive. To touch a vampire's companion is an insult, answerable with a duel to the death. I don't want my enemies to be prepared and choose their moment well. If I can have them act rashly and individually, there is no question of my victory.”

“Don't you have quite the ego?” she said waspishly.

“My dear, I am 1600 years old. It is not ego, but fact.”

“How old are the other vampires?”

He shrugged negligently, “No one is over a thousand.”

The time periods he discussed so casually were mind-boggling. She returned to the earlier subject, “Doesn't it seem slightly unwise to go wandering into a ballroom with a magical ring that's going to make everyone give in to their darkest impulses?”

Lucas gave another fleeting frown. “It is supposed to be more controlled than that. Parameters were put on to limit the effects of the magic. I cannot explain how it went awry.”

Val gritted her teeth in frustration, wondering why it was so difficult to get information out of him. “What was the ring supposed to do?”

“The effects should have been limited to those that I have a blood bond with. That would exclude all the humans. Additionally, it only works when someone is within contact distance and the focus of my attention. Not everyone would act out at once.”

This scared the crap out of her. “We don't have a blood bond! Do we? I don't remember that!”

“No. We do not have a blood bond.” He said in a placating tone of voice.

But she was still unconvinced and the look on her face must have let him know.

He drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair for a moment before saying, “If it puts your mind at ease, I have no desire to take your blood.” He sounded snooty, almost English.

For a moment she wondered if she should be offended, what was wrong with her blood? Surely she was snackable, like desert even, or a fine wine perhaps. Then sanity returned, and she didn't care what his reason was for rejecting her blood, it was a good thing and she'd go with it.

“Why is that exactly?” she asked impatiently.

“That is not something we need to discuss now. Come, we must leave.”

He held out one pale hand towards her but Val didn't take it, still stuck on why he wouldn't drink her blood. “Am I sick or something?”

“I am a very old vampire Valerie, certain types of blood are not compatible with my...physiology.”

“What, like I'd give you heartburn or something?”

He inclined his head regally, “If it gives you pleasure to put it in those terms you may, but I shall not drink your blood.”

Valerie had an image of him drinking from her, cradling her close and piercing her neck with his sharp fangs. There were people who became vampire junkies, their bite could be so pleasurable. But it was only pleasurable if the vampire chose to make it so.

It could also be an experience filled with terror and pain, like living a nightmare or whatever the vampire cared to show you.

Neither held any appeal.

 Why would someone be that vulnerable, put themselves in a vampire's possession and hope they wouldn't get carried away and kill them? Wasn't it akin to an attempted suicide or Russian roulette? People could be so stupid. Then she thought of herself here with Lucas, how she was being dragged into his world and was even attracted to him. I’m stupid too.

“How did it go so wrong with the ring?”

He dropped his hand back to his side. “I do not know. But I have returned the ring to its case. The silver contains its power, silver has an effect on most mystical things.”

He unbuttoned his jacket and pulled out a silver ring box from the inside pocket. He held it lightly in his fingers, showing it to her. The metal was dented and dull.

“How old is that thing?”

“I do not know. It was a gift from the Fey king a very long time ago.”

He stood, extending his hand to her, apparently deciding the conversation was at an end and he was ready to go. Men!

“Hold up, Fabio.” She put out a hand to keep him at bay. “I am not your companion. You cannot have my blood and I will never want to give it to you. So why do you want me to go to this…this…bloodfest?”

His fingers clasped hers, soft and warm, his fingers threading through hers tenderly. “Your safety, Valerie, is paramount to me. I need the others to know you are protected by me. By accompanying me tonight, a vampire will not dare touch you.”

Val’s stomach did a little flip flop. She was such a chump for falling for this.

His arm wrapped around her and he pulled her tight before taking them to the ball. “The ring will stay behind. You now have no excuse to draw my blood. As endearing as it was.”

Val felt herself blush and spoke quickly. “I was just trying to kill you, don't be too pleased with yourself. That's not a great effect to have on the ladies, you know.”

His head moved down so that his lips were inches from hers, his scent and power enveloping her like a blanket. Both of his hands, warm now, cupped her jaw, tilting her face up to his. She swayed forward a little, her body arching towards him. “You also said you wanted to sleep with me.”

Now she wanted to smack him. “Thank you for the painful reminder. I also want to go skydiving, but I won't. I have some sense of self-preservation.”

His voice was dark as she felt the wind begin to whip around them, “So do I, my Valkyrie, so do I.”

They materialized next to a building. The weather was chilly and Val was glad for her cloak. She felt the fur slide against her bare arms and suddenly understood why people had fur coats. Cruel but fabulous. Actually that kind of summed up vampires too.

It was pitch black but she could hear traffic and people nearby. He took her hand is his and she felt small and delicate. They twisted through alleys, the lights in the distance coming closer. The buildings two to three stories high but crowding close in the narrow streets.

Suddenly, they were on a main street and she looked around her. “Where are we?”

Lucas stood next to her, his body behind hers, one arm coming over her shoulder to point to something in the distance. If she turned her head she could kiss him, he was so close. What was he trying to show her?

“Is that the Coliseum? We're in Rome?” Oh, culture.

“Yes.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“Rome is a city of change. They all are, I suppose,” he said in an odd tone, wistful perhaps.

They entered a very expensive hotel situated on a cobbled stone plaza, huge chandeliers dangling overhead from the high ceilings. Gold gilt and cherubs adorned the walls. Hello, rococo.

Liveried staff were unobtrusively stationed around the entryway or scurrying around with luggage, juggling patrons. Cockroaches would be envious of their stealth. Richly dressed guests were crossing the floor—staying and leaving, but Lucas pulled her through them all, noticing that most of them moved away when they caught sight of him.

He had that effect on people, made them run away. She wondered if it was an unconscious act of self-preservation. Maybe on a fundamental level people registered him as a predator.

Two footman stood before massive carved wooden doors, pale and expressionless. Their outfits were made of velvet, the colors maroon and forest green, different than the hotel employees. When Lucas approached, they bowed, opened the doors, and scurried out of the way.

Her hand rested on his arm as he came to a halt just inside the door. Scanning the room, Val tried to let go but his other hand came atop hers, holding her in place, his hands cold again. Lucas leaned towards her ear and whispered quietly, “Do not relinquish my hold else I cannot keep you safe. There is something here. One circuit of the room and then I shall return you to London.”

He stood upright and continued to slowly search the room as he led them towards a wall filled with open verandas, gold curtains rustling in the breeze. The ballroom was large, over two hundred people filling the space. Most everyone had a glass of champagne and Val was happy there were no obvious goblets of blood being drunk as the sight might have been more than she could handle.

Couples danced on the floor, the women in long gowns, the men in tuxedos like Lucas. In every pair, she could identify the vampire easily. Their paleness and speed was slightly off, the humans radiated life and something indefinable in comparison to the vampires beside them. Vitality, perhaps? Valerlie didn't see as many puncture wounds as she would have expected and some wore high collars which made it hard to tell.

Fascinated, Val looked around her, the humans were all at ease, the vampires looking at their partners with affection, like a normal date should. Really, the number of people laughing and chatting was surprising. Everything was so normal.

As they neared an alcove, Valerie saw a couple in an embrace. The woman was blond and petite, her companion had skin the color of coffee with cream. His hair was short and he towered over her. Despite his muscular build and height, the woman was clearly the one to watch out for. He looked like he should be on Wall Street instead of at the Vampire Debutante Ball, or whatever this was.

She raised herself up on her tiptoes and put her arms around his neck while the man scooped her up, twirling her around playfully before bringing her higher, towards his neck. She laughed as he spun her and then she struck, sinking her fangs into his throat. His eyes closed and he smiled in pleasure. He sat them down on a chair, taking care to arrange her carefully on his lap so she wouldn't have to stop drinking and reposition herself.

His arms wrapped around her protectively, cradling her, and Valerie was both fascinated and repulsed. The woman pulled away from his neck, licked him lingeringly and raised a happy gaze to his. If she'd only seen a photo of that moment, the woman's adoring gaze as she looked into her suitor's smiling eyes, Val might have been envious at the obvious love and happiness they had for each other. But she knew what the woman was. Were any of their feelings real?

The blond put her finger in her mouth, the gesture slightly obscene, then she bit her finger and Val saw blood glinting in the light. The vampire's gaze never left her lover's, his mouth opening promptly, sucking her finger greedily. His cheeks hollowed out as he sucked hard on her finger.

His eyes closed again and he pulled her hand from his mouth, kissed her eagerly, his hands frantically lifting layers and layers of her dress until the woman's legs were exposed, the pink garters she wore on her thighs visible. His hand followed her leg and he gripped her high, his hand disappearing under her dress. He stood, quickly walking further into the alcove where it was dark.

The vampire woman laughed as they disappeared into the shadows.

Val blinked and blushed, realizing that she'd been stopped and staring. Lucas was watching her, his expression unreadable. He quirked a brow at her, waiting to see what she would have to say about the lovers she had seen. She shook her head, at a loss to say anything and they continued around the ballroom.

Lucas transferred her hand from his left to his right and moved so that she was closest to the windows and he faced the crowd.

A tall woman with auburn hair in loose curls came towards them. Her hair was long, halfway down her back and glossy. Her face was narrow, lips thin. She was pretty but there was something hard about her, and almost fevered.

Her eyes were a tawny gold and had a scorching quality. She raked Valerie with her golden gaze, and Val felt like she was being measured and dissected, as though the woman were imagining how she would cut her up, which limb might come off first and how much of it.

Valerie stepped back a pace, tucking herself into Lucas so that her body was close to his. The woman smiled like a villain, as though Valerie had done just what she'd hoped for.

Lightly, she held the arm of an elegantly dressed woman in a narrow cut, black tuxedo. The woman in the tuxedo was tall, a few inches taller than the vampire beside her. She was fresh and pretty, her brown hair had a light wave, hidden beneath a jaunty feminized top hat. Her eyes were brown, with thick fake lashes that made her look like a doll and accentuated an air of innocence. But the eyes themselves were hard. She’d seen a lot, the eyes said. This was a mask. The woman’s lips were bright crimson and would have made Robert Smith from The Cure swoon with envy.

Lucas gave her hand a squeeze and she tried to make her expression as bland as possible, feeling the subtle tension go through him. The auburn haired vampire turned her menacing smile to Lucas.

“Lucas, my darling! I did not expect to see you here with a companion. What has it been? At least a hundred and fifty years since....” She stopped talking, letting the sentence trail off and Val thought it was meant to be a little malicious, the implication being that companions were forgettable.

Valerie felt dread come over her. Oh no, she thought. She wanted to back up further and move away. Flee from here with or without Lucas.

Marion.

Lucas confirmed her fears, “Marion, Rachel, allow me to introduce you to Valerie. Valerie, Marion and her consort Rachel.”

Oh, shit! Valerie tried to keep her emotions from rushing across her face. She was standing in front of the woman who'd murdered Jack's family, who Lucas now wanted dead. And Rachel was her consort, whatever that meant, who was giving information to Jack about Lucas.

An inferno of anger rolled through Val. Lucas and Marion both wanted the other dead and instead of confronting each other directly they were getting humans to try to do their dirty work for them, making her and her family pawns in their stupid political games.

Rachel's eyes were cold and unusually distant, even as she watched Valerie closely. She held out a white gloved hand towards Valerie, and Valerie looked to Lucas who nodded in consent. She put her hand out to Rachel and was surprised it wasn't shaking. Rachel grasped it in hard cold fingers and brought her hand to her lips. She wanted to yank her hand away and realized she was gripping Lucas hard. She didn't loosen her grip, didn't even breathe, just waited to see what Rachel was going to do.

A moment passed as though Rachel was deciding if she was going to harm Valerie, her gaze flicking to Lucas then back to Val's clasped hand. Then she lowered her lips quickly, the merest brush of her lips against Valerie's hand. Her lips were chilled, but not as cold as Lucas could be.

Desperately, Val wanted to leave, be away from these people and things and their petty politics. She was just a pawn. Everyone she loved was part of their game and they were all going to die at the whim of these monsters. She felt her throat close with tears and tried to calm herself down.

“Valerie.” Marion's voice was like ice, brittle and discordant. “I am sure I know you, Valerie. Guess, my dear. Guess, how I know you.” She gave Valerie a real smile, enjoying Valerie's discomfort, and Valerie knew this woman could bat at her like a mouse, play with her while her chest was ripped open and think nothing of it. Worse, she wouldn't even remember it, just another murder for Marion.

Val shook her head slightly, struck dumb and waited.

“Jack. I know you, because of my boy Jack.” Each word was said slowly, clearly and lovingly. Marion watched Val hungrily, waiting to see what affect her words would have.

Valerie stared at Marion's well shaped eyebrows, not looking her in the eyes, deciding no response was better than saying something inflammatory like, 'I'll be sure to pass along your regards' or 'Funny, he's never mentioned you'

Marion laughed, as though someone had something amusing, turning to look at Rachel who was giving everyone a small, benign smile.

“And you, Lucas. A Hunter’s daughter? What sort of father must she have that she runs straight into your arms?”

She looked back and forth between the two of them, as though waiting for one of them to tell her the punch line from a joke.

“Keep him close, darling. He's a tiger, but once he gets bored... and with the things he'd seen and done, he gets bored quickly.” It was clear she wanted to sound like she was giving motherly advice, but a bitterness underlay her words, unintentionally or not, Valerie couldn't decide.

Lucas stayed quiet, watching Marion lazily as she spoke and poked at Val with her barbed words. Val wondered why he didn't do something and clearly Rachel wondered it too. Her free hand was atop Marion's, squeezing her fingers as though to urge caution.

His voice was calm, “I would speak with you later. Where will I find you?”

Marion's voice was breathy, her grip on Rachel's arm tightening so that her fingers appeared even whiter. “Paris. I'm at the Paris flat.”

Lucas smiled slightly, “I thought you were at the Dorchester.”

Marion raised her free hand, bringing her black silk clutch purse to her chest as though for protection while Rachel looked to the ground studiously. “Why do you think that?”

Lucas gave a tired sigh, his voice weary and low, “Do not, Marion. How many times do you think you can be forgiven?”

A look of fury flashed across her features and Lucas moved his arm, draping it around Valerie and tucking her close to him, almost shielding her as they stepped around Marion and Rachel, careful to keep her to the outside of them. He was walking towards the open French doors where Val could see a balcony, the city below.

“Lucas, wait.”

He turned back to Marion and then he was pushing Valerie against the wall, shielding at least part of her body with his own. She felt the cold begin at her feet, felt the press of his hips against hers, the way his arms were bracketing as much of her body as possible.

There was the faintest whisper and thud, a hiss in her ear from Lucas—then the cold died.

There was the slightest vibration in his body and she smelled burning flesh. She looked down and saw two arrows embedded in his side, smoke curling upwards and stinging her eyes. He exhaled and it sounded wet.

People were screaming, the floor trembling as everyone ran for an exit at the same time. Of course, the vampires would leave, their humans too vulnerable to risk.

 “Silver and poison. I need a moment. I will get you— ” Shots rang out and she felt his body jerk with each shot.

He made a slight noise, almost a growl, near her ear and then his head fell forward, his silky hair sliding in her face and he began to sink, his weight pulling her down to the ground with him.

She felt his blood on her gown, dripping down her hands. He was so heavy. Lucas was dead. Still. No breath, his limbs slack, a corpse pulling her down into the grave.

She tried to scream.

The crowd was panicking, some of them leaping from the windows, others standing to the side to protect their companions while most of them fled to the doors for a quick exit or dematerialized.

Several guards came for them, following Marion's direction as they pulled Lucas off of her and towards the center of the room. He was unconscious, two guards carrying each arm, his head lolling forward. They were moving quickly, Marion trailing them with a gun in her hand. She’d shot Lucas.

But he wasn’t dead. Couldn’t be dead or he’d be ash, wouldn’t he?

Rachel leaned down for Val and grabbed her hard by the elbow, yanking her to her feet.

“I know what you're thinking. If only you'd known, you would have worn black to hide all that blood. I’ve been there.” Then she gave Val a look, like they were high school friends who talked smack about each other and tried to steal each other’s boyfriends. “Lucas and Jack? I’m impressed and surprised.”

Rachel jerked her along, forcing her to follow Marion and Lucas. Marion was almost preening, hips swaying, spine straight in victory. Lucas was still unconscious, his clothes shredded and bloody. The shots were fired at almost point blank range, but through the fabric she could see skin. Whole, unblemished skin that was knitting together as she watched.

 Please be alright. Not just because she wanted to get out of here alive and she suspected that would only happen with his help, but because she didn’t know how she’d react to his dying.

She stared at him hard as though trying to will him back to health.

And then his head snapped up, feet planted to the ground as he brought his arms together and the guards holding him crashed into each other head first, unable to let go fast enough.

Lucas was free. Turning and eyeing the guards who rushed forward to restrain him again. But Marion was there, back at Val's side, her arm around Val's neck and the gun at her temple.

“Stop!” Marion yelled loudly making Valerie's ears ring.

Lucas paused, drenched in blood like Carrie at the prom, looking Valerie over in a quick sweep to make sure she was uninjured. He waved a hand in acquiescence and walked to the dais that the guards had been leading him to in those brief moments that he'd been unconscious.

Climbing the steps slowly, as though tired, he sat on the throne, his jacket gone, white shirt shredded to pieces and hanging from him in bloody strips, while his long golden hair was matted with blood.

He sat in the throne, the wood so dark and ornately carved that Val knew it was centuries old.

 Anger blazed from him, every moment that passed allowing him to heal and regain his strength back. But his skin was paler than usual and he didn't have the same rock-like hardness he usually had.

After a quick glance, Lucas didn't look at her but watched Marion. He made an expansive gesture, his palms facing up and outwards. It was a regal, 'Here I am, now what?’ gesture. Marion gripped Val tighter, the gun pressed so hard to her temple that the pain was constant and distracting.

“I’m sure I could guess what you want, but it seems a shame to deprive you the pleasure of making your demands.”

“Restoration,” she said with a hiss.

He gave an ugly laugh. “What does Rachel get? And your followers- have you any? I fail to see how anyone besides you benefits from your restoration to power.” His eyes scanned the room, calling attention to its emptiness.

“I have followers. Step down, tonight, restore me and this will go no further. You can take your little Hunter home and be done.”

He laughed. A deep, hearty and human sound, “You would not let us go!”

He slammed a palm down on the wooden chair and leaned forward, his blood stained hair sliding forward over his shoulder, full lips quirked in a bitter smile.

Val blinked dazedly, she'd never seen him so animated, so life-like as he settled back into his chair nonchalantly, confident and brazen.

“Let me tell you what is going to happen. Nothing.” The words were a snarl, “You will release us if you want to live. You have made enemies Marion. Rachel is so weak others will use her at the first opportunity. You are a stalking horse and nothing more. You think to rule in my stead and for what purpose?”

He leaned back in the chair, hands curled over the arms’ edges. “Are you bored again, sweetheart?” His tone was seductive, his gaze trailing Marion’s body lazily as though he had the antidote to her boredom.

Val shivered at the pleasure radiating from his voice. She saw the fine hairs raise on Marion's arm, his voice affecting her as well.

He shook his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose as though he had a headache, his mood instantly changed. His voice was tired, maybe pain filled, when he said, “They will not follow you. You will bring war upon our race.”

She laughed hollowly. “How does that compare to you? You who want to give us to the Fey? Back to the wolves? How can you do that to your children?” Her voice held genuine grief.

Noise exploded, two shots fired into Lucas without warning. There was a hole in the chair where one had missed, but blood bloomed from his shoulder where the other bullet struck him.

“I'll keep you so full of silver you won't leave, do you hear me Lucas? God damn you! And this girl here too.” She pushed the gun against Valerie's temple, pushing so hard Valerie could feel her skin being scraped away.  She cried out, tears stinging her eyes.

Lucas was still, almost frozen as though not to startle anyone.

Marion hissed at him, “Tell me she means nothing. Tell me and I'll prove you wrong.” She cocked the gun and Valerie felt tears roll down her cheeks.

Lucas watched Marion intently, never wavering his gaze, ignoring Valerie and her tears completely.

“I will not leave so long as you hold her. She is your hold upon me, Marion. Be careful lest you break her,” he said calmly.

Lucas shifted his weight and crossed his legs, a king at ease. He flexed his bloody arm and Valerie saw his large biceps bunch and tighten, straining the shirt. Blood flowed freely, a small black river of it gushing out before a silver bullet writhed out of his arm and fell to the ground with a ping.

He settled his hand on his knee.  “If you shoot me again I cannot restore you, I will not have the strength.”

Marion nodded, acknowledging his statement as true. She passed Val to Rachel, who held her the same as Marion had, Val's back to Rachel's front, gun at her temple. Marion began to walk towards Lucas.

Lucas held up a forestalling hand and Marion stopped automatically. “What of Rachel?”

Marion's voice was angry, “What of her?”

“Will she take power from me as well? Or will you share power with her later?”

Marion gave a wicked smile and turned to Rachel. “My love?”

Rachel’s voice was soft when she said, “This is for her. I do not need more than she has already been forced to give me.”

Lucas frowned briefly. “You would be her second? I cannot see how that is good for the dynamic of your relationship.”

Valerie wanted to laugh hysterically. Was Lucas a marriage counselor now? Heaven help them. He couldn't emote his way out of a paper bag.

“I want her happy. And she is correct, the path you would lead us down is lunacy.”

He gave a sad smile and shake of his head. “Rachel, you are too new. You cannot make her happy and you certainly won't make her happy by giving her what she wants. Marion will always want more and nothing will ever be enough.” He paused as though deciding whether or not to say more. “And you don't know what things were like when the Others were here. There was balance and beauty. This gray existence we have now is the aberration.”

“No.” Marion said vehemently, “you have nothing and live in a gray world, but the rest of us are happy. We feel things. Numbness is your curse! You put yourself before us, would chain us for your attempt to feel something.”
         Lucas turned his gaze back to Marion. “What happens after you are restored? Will you let us go?” His voice was ugly, the question insincere, knowing she couldn't leave him alive.

Marion stepped forward, her hand going to his face and touching him lightly. “You have been misguided but generous. I know you have acted towards me with love. It will take time to restore me. I want eight hundred years Lucas. That will take at least a week or two. And you can feed from her, then you can change her. Make her your consort. And you will be her second, just like you did to me. Then you can go free. It won't be worth killing you anymore. I don’t want you dead, Lucas. I only want you to be miserable.”  

“You would leave us defenseless as children, cast out in a sea of enemies.”

Marion shrugged. Lucas' weakness was not her problem the gesture said. Things were moving too quickly, Val thought. She didn't want to die, didn't understand the political maneuvering around her but she sure as shit didn't want to become a vampire.  Was she a strong enough person to choose death instead of becoming a vampire?

She thought about her mother, opening the door to those memories that she kept tightly locked and saw the pain and fear on her mother's face as she had died. The way her mother had sought her out, watching Valerie’s face as though seeing her in those final moments was the most important thing in the world.

Her throat closed up with tears. Yes, she would die. She couldn't do that to someone else's mother, didn't want to be a monster. She could die. She'd do it and once it was done, it wasn't like she'd feel regret, she thought morbidly.

Valerie blinked and looked up, her decision made, that she’d rather die than become a vampire and realized her vision was hazy, tears spilling down her cheeks. It wasn’t like death was a great option.

She wiped her cheeks and looked at Marion, blinking until her vision cleared. Lucas held his hand out, his wrist exposed to Marion’s hungry gaze.

“Go ahead, my love.” Marion said, absently, her whole body focused on Lucas’ outstretched wrist and the power that waited behind that thin layer of skin.

And then Rachel’s grip tightened around Val’s neck and she felt the displacement of air near her body, then a stinging sensation raking down her chest.

Blood welled out of her body. Her chest had been slashed open with a knife, a long jagged wound she could see through her torn dress.

Rachel stood beside her, the bloody knife lightly grasped in her hand. Valerie screamed in shock, watching her blood flow out of her like a dam releasing water. At first there was just a small stain and then it grew into a patch, then it was coursing down her dress and pooling on the floor at her feet. That’s too much blood.

At first, there was no sensation, but then the pain began to build and get worse, her nerves screaming at the injury, dots floating before her eyes and she feared she might faint. A killing wound.

“Think of that as insurance for your good behavior. As long as you don't dawdle and give me the power quickly, she just might live.” She took Lucas' wrist in hand and sat beside him. His gaze was locked on Valerie's as she tried not to cry. Each gasp made the pain worse.

Her knees gave out, Rachel letting her slip to the ground. She saw Marion's head descend to Lucas' wrist, striking like a cobra.

Valerie turned away from his intense stare, unsure what, if anything, he was trying to convey to her. Marion was drinking from Lucas, gulping frantically. She raised her head, turning it at an unnatural angle, and looked up at Lucas, his blood smeared around her mouth.

“Faster. The sooner we are done here the sooner you can get your little human fixed.”

Lucas turned to Marion, his expression blank. Blood began to drip from his arm faster and faster like honey pouring out of a jar. Marion cackled in a way that would have made the Wicked Witch of the West jealous and continued to drink from him. Obscene little noises of pleasure came from deep in her throat.

Even sitting on the floor became hard. Her chest felt like there was a campfire raging on it, burning and sucking all the oxygen from her so that even breathing was too hard.

Just rest. Val tried to lie down, using her arms to brace herself, but they gave out, the sound of her head cracking on the ground like another gunshot wound to Lucas’ chest.

Valerie gave up.