She placed her other hand on his chest and felt him burning there. She was not certain if she could destroy him from a dream.
But she was unwilling to even try.
Tears streaked down her cheeks. His anger faltered and faded and dissolved into a weary sadness. He released his grasp on her throat and moved to wipe her tears away. “Forgive me, Maxine.”
“Do not make me do this.”
“I have no other choice. I know you do not see it yet. But you will.” He crooked a finger beneath her chin and tilted her head up. “I love you. And I will have you love me in return. All of me. Walk the streets of my pain, my darling. And when you find me at the end of it, I will accept your judgement on my knees. I will bow to you like a slave and take your forgiveness or wrath with a joyful heart.” He leaned down, ghosting his lips over hers. “But not until I have decided you have suffered enough.”
And with that, he kissed her. It was harsh. It was passionate. It was needy, and it was full of love, lust, and greed. She moaned against his lips, unable to stop herself. He undid her. All her surety, all her resolve, cracked and shattered under his first strike like a shield made of ice.
Hands scooped her by her thighs and lifted her up the wall to his height. She was left with nothing to do but to cling to him, startled, as he forced her legs to hook around his waist. Fearing the fall, too startled to fight it, she crossed her ankles behind him. His hands slid up her stockings, rolling her dress to her waist.
His lips did not leave hers. They did not relent. He kissed her deeper, tilting his head to the side, her new height easing his access to her.
Stepping in, he pressed himself to her. He was there at her core, already eager for her. It made her gasp and whimper. She broke the kiss, needing to fill her lungs with air. She was trembling.
He chuckled at her reaction. “Once the hunters abandon you—and they will, my sweet, mark my words—I will come for you. Then I can complete our dance.” He once more mimed the action she knew he wished to do to her, if there were not so many layers of clothing between them.
She arched her back. It felt so good. Each time he pressed against her it sent a thrill through her body. A hint of pleasure she could only dream of—things she had only stolen from the minds of those she had touched.
The feeling of him crashed over her like a wave, like velvet and satin and like wings in the night sky. The creature she had fallen in love with had not changed. He had simply grown more complicated. He had warned her of the things that lurked in the shadows of his mind, and she had been foolish enough to think she had understood.
He growled low in his throat. “But I will not come for you yet. I will have them fall from grace. I will break them, one by one, until they lie weeping and shattered at my feet. I will tear the wings from their backs and their halos from their righteous heads.” Still he kept at his tempo, driving her mad with his teasing despite his terrible words. “I will make them leave you, frightened and afraid, and know that they have sealed your fate. Then I will use their desecrated flesh to decorate my home. Perhaps I will even add them to my ranks.”
And despite his gruesome threats, her body did not stop begging for him. She clung to him, whimpering each time he leaned into her, tilting his hips up to hers just so. “Please, Vlad—”
“Please, what? Release you? Take you here and now in this dream? Would you have me spare them, or do you prefer I kill them sooner so we might be joined in the flesh? What is it that you wish for? Say it, and it shall be done.” When she was silent, he purred his next words. “And therein lies my game, my love. You do not know that for which you wish. And until you do, you will languish in this nightmare of my creation.”
He tilted her face to his once more, and his breath washed over her lips, no longer cold, but hot. Spurred to life by his desire for her. “But while we wait for you to make up your mind, my sweet princess—my Lady of Souls—know that you belong to me. And the instant they leave you behind…I will come to claim that which I own.”
His lips crashed against hers again, devouring her, making good on his words of possession. And in his touch, she crumbled. Overwrought, her mind sank back into the darkness.
5
Mordecai leaned forward and kissed Zadok’s shoulder. “You’re too kind, my old friend.”
“Who am I to stand in the way of young love?” The vampire chuckled. “Go. And now we’re even.”
“Your debt is paid, yes, yes, and all that.”
“Mmh, one thing. If you come up out of her for air, mind if I cut in? She is such a pretty thing.”
“If there’s anything left, of course. If she’s half the hellcat I think she is, perhaps we can have her together.”
The vampire waved his hand to dismiss the incubus. “Go. You’ll have this one chance.”
It was Bella’s turn to take watch. She was standing by the window, idly twirling a dagger between her fingers. Eddie was so tired that he had nearly fallen asleep standing up. Poor boy. Alfonzo was lying in the corner, his coat tucked under his head. She always knew when he was sleeping. The snoring was a pretty good indication.
It made her smile. No matter the chaos, no matter the death, or destruction, or the end of the world—it didn’t matter. Alfonzo Van Helsing snored like a lumbermill. And to travel with him meant she had to become inured to it or reach the level of exhaustion where she ceased to care. Even the poor empath Maxine was too tired to wake from her sleep, no matter the noise.
Bella looked over at the woman and frowned. Her heart broke. She was at the mercy of everyone else’s needs. First the vampire’s hunger, then Alfonzo and his search for revenge. Maxine seemed like a kind, compassionate woman. She did not deserve the fate that was forced on her. Either in her gift that left her unable to be touched—at least by natural humans—or in the morbid and dreadful future before her.
It was clear to her that Maxine loved the vampire. Alfonzo and Eddie might miss it. Alfonzo for his disbelief that such a thing was possible, and Eddie because he did not know what real love looked like. But Bella could see it for what it was. It was tragic to watch Maxine’s first real hope for a simple connection with another be dashed.
Bella’s heart broke for Maxine.
But broken love was something with which she was familiar. Her gaze traced back over to Eddie. Guilt stabbed at her, seeping into her like a poison, making her hate herself. Eddie loved her. She knew he did, for he had said the words aloud. Yet she did not feel the same for him.
But why not?
She should.
He was sweet, kind, young, handsome, and her dear friend. They traveled together. They fought together. She trusted him with her life. But no love bloomed in her heart for him. She searched and searched and found none. She worried if she dug much harder through the turf, she would destroy the roots of the friendship they shared in the process.
It made her feel lesser. It made her feel disgusting. What was wrong with her that she could not embrace his love and return it with her own? It was a great mark of shame on her soul.
Souls.
Funny things, those.
Bella looked back to Maxine and wondered if the empath knew of the unrequited love that Eddie bled out upon the floor every time he turned to Bella. She assumed so. And she also assumed Maxine was dignified enough not to speak of it.