Chapter Nineteen

CHAPTER NINETEEN

T he streets of London were busier than usual as the new year approached. It was nothing to walk them after dusk, storefronts throwing weak light across excited faces. Careless faces.

Usually wherever I walked, my prey had a sudden instinct to stop and look around, as if they felt the shadow of death closing in on them. Here, amid this anonymous sea of humans, I seemed to cast a shadow as ordinary as anyone else.

My eyes slipped from face to face, ladies leaning in to each other to speak low, men strolling with their canes swinging, unaware of the wolf in sheep's clothing.

A young woman bumped into me innocently and sent me an embarrassed smile. "Pardon, my lord," she said before ducking her head.

A small grin crossed my lips, for I'd recognized the look in her eyes. A predator. A mocking insincerity. She thought me a fool among fools, as if I hadn't noticed the light hand intruding into my pocket to withdraw my money clip. She was so confident she didn't even look back as she detoured down an alley, never guessing she was being followed by one of her victims, that she would become a victim herself.

I watched her confident strides, her black curls bouncing in time. Her cream dress professed innocence, as did the ribbons threaded carefully through her hair to hide her motives. A fur wrapped around her shoulders to ward off the cold.

She paused and I watched a shudder run up her body. There it was. She'd sensed my presence, and she tilted her head back to regard me. A smile slipped easily into place to lower my guard, but I noted the jump of the pulse at her neck.

She was a pretty girl, observant as she took in our surroundings with a casual glance, eyes lingering on a pipe that could be used as a weapon before she focused her attention on me, no doubt to diffuse the situation before she had to resort to anything distasteful.

I took a purposeful step toward her, drawing up. I tilted my head curiously. "What made you assume I was an easy mark?"

She fluttered her eyelashes and widened her eyes. Expertly done. If I couldn't hear her quickened breathing, I might have believed her innocence myself. "I'm not sure I understand the question, my lord." Her eyes flicked past me, and I heard a soft footfall. I'd been so focused on the girl that I hadn't noticed I'd been followed.

"Tell your friend if he moves another inch, I will end his life," I said, not adding that I would end it anyway.

The girl pursed her lips and nodded past me. The man no longer approached, but I could hear him, licking his lips as if to ready himself.

"I suppose you want it back?" the girl sighed, digging into the folds of her dress, where pockets had been hidden. She lifted my money clip and held it out to me. "Here you go then. Pardon me for my impertinence. I have a family to feed, and it's the holidays." She met my eyes. Her face remained neutral, and I couldn't tell if she had lied to gain my sympathy. Interesting. I was actually curious. I hadn't felt this stirring of admiration in quite some time.

"What is your name?" I asked, ignoring the money clip.

The girl glanced down at her outstretched hand, then lowered it, lifting an eyebrow. "I'm not a whore. You'd best reset your expectations. I hear you can find your choice of girls on Fifth Street."

"Okay, that's about enough of this," the man behind me proclaimed, stalking toward me. I didn't even bother looking back. I grabbed his arm and wrenched it back with a crack that sent the man to his knees with a grunt of surprise and pain. "You dirty little—"

I bent the arm back farther and he swallowed a scream.

I hadn't broken eye contact with the girl yet. "Your name?" I asked again.

She swallowed, eyes darting to her friend, who was likely pale from pain. "Raven."

"Raven," I said, nodding to myself. "I like that. Clever little birds, curious, intelligent." I reached into my pocket and retrieved a dagger. "Tell me, Raven, would you offer me a taste of your blood, for the chance to live a little longer?"

The girl stared at the knife, as if weighing whether she could run to safety before I held it to her throat. I held it out to her.

The man whose arm I held reached into his own pocket, and I finally glanced down at him. He was a man with copper hair in his thirties, with sideburns down to his chin. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

The man paused, then let out a small breath as I loosened my grip slightly on his arm.

I returned my gaze to Raven.

She wet her lips. "You're a vampire." I credited her for saying it without her voice shaking.

"Quite right," I agreed, grinning. "Bad luck, your finding me in the crowd."

"You were alone, distracted, and you wear an expensive jacket," she replied. Her eyes narrowed. "You wanted to appear like an innocent human."

"Of course. We are not so different, are we, Raven?"

"I beg to differ," she said, dropping my money clip into the dirty snow at her feet and snatching the dagger from my hand. She examined it for a moment, as if considering if she could use it to turn me away, but instead, she cut her palm with a sure stroke, offering her hand to me.

I grinned at her. "Good girl. But I think I'd like to drink from your neck. It doesn't have to be a deep cut, mind you, just enough to—"

She didn't wait for me to finish. She shoved the dagger directly into my chest, over my heart.

I grunted in surprise, letting go of the man at my side. Black blood spilled into my throat before the cut knit itself back together. I swallowed it thickly, then laughed, watching the girl as she eyed the dagger with a quiver in her lips. She held herself quite well. I wondered just how much she could handle.

Before she could pull her hands away from the hilt, I covered them with my own, grinning down at her. "If you were aiming for my heart, you have to be mindful of the ribs." I helped her pull the dagger out from my chest, where it had embedded itself in the bone. I hid a wince as the blade slid out. "But I appreciate your intentions."

I backhanded her, and she held a hand up to her cheek as blood leaked from the corner of her mouth. She licked it clean, and I tilted my head, enchanted by this reaction. I wiped the dagger's blade off on my pant leg before handing it back to her. "Now, kill your friend and I'll let you live. If you don't, both of you are going to die tonight."

The girl considered me for a moment, her eyes sliding to the man in consideration. He stared back at the girl with wide eyes, head shaking ever so slightly.

I crossed my arms as I watched hesitation flit over the girl's features. "I'll give you extra incentive." I moved too quickly for the girl to follow, grabbing her leg and slicing a hand down over her femur, earning the crack of bone that sent a shiver of pleasure up my spine.

The girl groaned once, twice, swallowing the scream that was certainly welling inside her at the blinding pain.

"I once broke my leg in a similar fashion," I told her. "So I know the agony you're experiencing. Kill your friend, and I'll let you live and ensure the pain goes away."

"How do I know you're telling the truth?" she managed, keeping her voice even with effort.

I shrugged. "You don't."

She looked at me, looked at the dagger, and then hobbled over to her friend, who attempted to scrabble away, voice rising pitifully. She made it look easy, purposefully stepping over him and sliding the blade across his neck with a quick, fluid stroke. Her hands shook, and she let out a shuddering breath when it was done, but I was impressed with her fortitude. She chose her life over her friend's. She was a survivor.

She returned to me with great reluctance, but also resignation. She knew she couldn't escape me by running, especially with her leg in such a state. Her only choice was to comply and hope I was as good as my word.

Of course, I was not.

Blood splattered her pretty cream dress. She was a vision, a perfect angel of death. I was in awe of this human as she threw the dagger at my feet. Her jaw was clenched, the tilt of her head defiant.

"Oh, you are going to be fun," I chuckled, eyes gleaming. "I think this will be the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

I'd thought a confrontation with Raven was imminent, but she watched the regret, the torment, strewn across my face with a glint in her eyes. "We'll continue this later," she said, waving a hand. "I think I'll leave you boys alone to … sort this out." She sent me a cruel grin before melting into the night, without inflicting a single scratch.

I took a step toward my friends, and Ambrose flinched visibly, taking a step back.

I swallowed hard. What could I say? Everything Raven had said had been the truth. They'd heard it confirmed from my own mouth. "I … I'm sorry."

"Thomas Grange was right," Ambrose said. He laughed bitterly. "I knew you were too good to be true. Something was always a little off. It all makes sense now."

Violetta shifted uneasily. "But he's human now. He can't hurt us. He hasn't even tried to."

"But the moment he regains his powers, do you think he'll hesitate?" Ambrose asked, practically spitting the words.

I flinched at the malice in his voice. "I wouldn't hurt any of you."

"He did save us from the vampire before," Violetta pointed out. "And even just now, he was ready to fight for us."

"Fight for his chance at my hand, you mean," Ambrose said. "He's using us. Using me . So he can return to being a vile creature of the night." He shook his head in disgust.

My gaze shifted to Maxwell, who'd been silent throughout this exchange. He continued to watch me, face a blank. I wish he would yell at me, rage against what I'd done. I needed to know what he was thinking. I deserved every ounce of ire he felt.

I'd forfeited my chance at immortality. Ambrose wouldn't allow me to continue in the competition now. He certainly wouldn't ask for my hand, or let me anywhere near the list of hunters. The best thing I could do was put as much distance between myself and them as possible. I felt light-headed, like my mind was detached from my body. "I'm sorry for the pain I've caused you all. I'm too dangerous to be around you. If I regain my powers, I … don't know what I'll do. I won't risk hurting you." I hesitated, stomach dropping at what I was about to say. "I'll leave."

"Oh, you think you can just walk away?" Ambrose demanded. "After what you've done to me?"

I took a step back as he stalked to me, eyes blazing. Just a few feet from me, he leapt at my throat.

"How dare you!" he shouted into my face as he pushed me into the ground painfully, knees pinning me to the earth. His fingers dug into my throat. "You abomination! How dare you kiss me! How dare you even look me in the eye!"

He was crushing my throat, yet I welcomed the bruising pain. I would not fight him. I deserved this. I closed my eyes, thinking that perhaps my life would end with that snap of bone I loved so much. That would be better than the disappointment, the resentment, in the faces of my friends.

"Enough, brother," Maxwell demanded, and a moment later, Ambrose's weight lifted. Maxwell was holding his brother back, jaw set, determined.

"Unhand me!" Ambrose yelled at Maxwell. "We need to bring him before the council to answer for atrocities against the human race. We need—"

Violetta screamed.

At first, I thought it was due to the shocking scene of Ambrose trying to reach for me again, malice twisting his face into something ugly, but that wasn't it.

The brothers had gone still and peered back into the crypt. I felt the heaviness in my chest abate slightly, curdling into dread as I realized that Violetta was no longer with us.

I started as Violetta screamed again, an echoing that resounded from inside. Ambrose rushed within, needing no more convincing.

Maxwell sent a hesitant glance back in my direction, before something detached itself from the surrounding darkness. A bat melted into a tall form in front of Maxwell before it pounced, driving Maxwell into the grass with a grunt that stole the air from him.

"Maxwell!" I rushed to his aid as he struggled to fend off this vampire. A boy, although it was too dark to make out much else. The moonlight glinted off a pair of fangs, poised to strike.

"No!" I shouted, charging him and knocking him off of Maxwell, hurling us both down the steps leading to the crypt, where we landed mere feet away from the nearest coffin.

"Ambrose!" Violetta screamed.

I looked up to find her at the back of the family crypt, holding on to the door frame that led to the deeper tunnels beneath Gramercy House. Her fingers slipped as something yanked her from the other side. Ambrose grasped for one of her hands, and for a moment I thought he had her, but just as quickly, her body slid into the darkness beyond.

"No!" Ambrose made to follow, but something in the dark beyond sent him sprawling back into the family crypt, directly into Maxwell, both of them crashing into a coffin in a tangle of limbs.

Everything was happening so quickly. I pulled myself to my feet, stumbling back as the vampire boy lunged at me, knocking me into another coffin. We fell to the floor, the coffin splintering alongside us as we struggled. I grunted as he pinned me beneath him, teeth bared. I tried to buck him, but he was too powerful. He was a vampire and I was a human. He had all of the advantages and I had none.

"I thought this would be much harder," the vampire said, amusement curling his lips. "Raven led me to believe you were a force of nature. But you're just a weak man."

"Raven?" I gasped as the vampire straddled me.

His mouth snapped over my neck, fangs sinking into my flesh. He gasped, spitting as I recalled how Raven had a similar reaction. Seizing the opportunity, I pushed up against him with all my strength, and while he was distracted by the acidic blood on his tongue, he tumbled off me. I crawled to the skeleton that had been tossed from its resting place, its bones snapping beneath my weight like twigs, and plunged my hand into the man's jacket, where my fingers grazed ribs before wrapping around the object I sought.

I twisted around, but the vampire had moved on to a new target. Ambrose had been pushed against a wall, one of the vampire's hands holding him up by his throat while the other covered his mouth. Ambrose struggled against the vampire's grip to no avail, then bit into his hand, black blood splattering the vampire's face. When Ambrose didn't relent, the vampire withdrew, cradling his hand.

"Emmett?" Maxwell stepped forward. "Is that you?"

The vampire straightened, blinking at Maxwell. I could see it now. He was as handsome as his portrait, although older, with blood smeared across his face, giving him a wild look.

"Emmett?" Maxwell repeated.

Emmett swallowed hard and turned away. "Don't look at me, Max."

Maxwell approached and wrapped his brother in his arms. "You're okay, Emmett. We're here now. We'll help you."

"It's not like I thought it would be. It's … so much. Everything is too much."

"Get away from him, Maxwell," Ambrose ordered. "He's no longer your brother."

Maxwell stared at Ambrose. "But … it's Emmett."

"It was Emmett." He took a step forward, then reached out to me. I thought for a moment that he was going to help me to my feet, but then he snatched the wooden stake from my hand, resignation in his eyes.

"He's still in there," I said softly as I climbed to my feet. "He's just … confused. His emotions are dulled, but everything else is heightened."

Ambrose met my gaze, rubbing at a spot of blood at the corner of his lips. Did he understand what I was saying? Was he listening to me?

"It's still him," I said. "You don't want to do anything you'll regret."

Maxwell lifted his chin. "And you changed back, Lucian. There must be something we can do." His look was pleading as Ambrose approached, stake clenched tightly in his fist. "He's our brother."

"It's confusing. The thirst is more intense than I imagined. I thought I would feel the same," Emmett confessed, glancing down at the wooden stake in Ambrose's hand. "Raven said I would."

My mouth went dry. Raven had done this to him. All along, it had been Raven. The girl Isabel had seen Emmett with, comforting him as she prepared him for what he would become.

Emmett glanced up at Maxwell. "You saw what was happening to Father. I couldn't go through that. I didn't want to die. Raven told me what it was like. She gave me another choice, the opportunity to never have to die." He looked away.

I squinted at him. "And all you had to do was give her the names of all the vampire hunters, I suppose." If she'd retrieved those names for Vrykolakas before me, he would no longer have need for me. He wouldn't care whether I won Ambrose's hand or not. I would be stuck as a human with no opportunity to prove my worth. When Helena had shared the particulars of my challenge by the vampire god with Raven, they had taken full advantage of the information, scheming together on how best to thwart me.

"Yes."

"Emmett," Maxwell said, stepping up behind me. "Come home. We'll figure this out."

"Oh? The vampire hunting family will have no problem with that, I suppose." Emmett scoffed, glaring at Ambrose, who watched the proceedings with a clenched jaw. "Father has made very clear that I'm not welcome in the family unless I become exactly what he wants me to be. Raven only asks that I be myself. Which would you choose?"

Maxwell flinched. "It can be different. I just … I want my brother back."

"Perhaps it's too late," Emmett said, drawing himself up. "Perhaps I'm already a monster that Ambrose can't abide." He shook his head. "I have killed. Isabel was the first human whose mortal life I stole." He looked to me, noting my surprise. "That's right. I was the wolf you grappled with at Foxglove Abbey."

I blinked, attempting to process this along with all of the other revelations of the evening.

"Are you so far gone?" Ambrose demanded. "Would you kill us as well?" Then, paralyzed, I watched him drive his wooden stake into his brother's back.

Emmett howled with pain, going rigid as Ambrose pounded at the stake with his fist, driving it deeper into his brother. But it wasn't deep enough. Emmett whirled on his brother, smacking him so hard that he went flying into a nearby wall, hitting it with a resounding crack before he slid to the ground. Flailing, Emmett attempted to dislodge the stake from his back.

I leapt forward, grabbing his shoulder firmly and yanking the stake out with a quick hand. He rounded on me, snarling, and backhanded me, sending me to the floor. I grunted, twisting to prepare myself for a follow-up attack.

Emmett's fingers curled into claws, ready to rip into me, face contorted with pain and rage.

I hesitated. This was Maxwell's brother, whom he'd been so worried about. He was also Raven's child. The family she wanted, the family I had denied her.

Damn it.

Emmett leapt at me and I shoved the wooden stake up with all the strength I could muster, screaming.

Emmett gazed down at me in disbelief with his one good eye as I held the stake that was jammed through his other eye. Blood oozed out around the stake as the boy's lips curved into an ironic smile, and he slumped on top of me, still.

"Emmett!" Maxwell shouted as his brother crumpled to the floor. He dropped to his knees, holding Emmett's head in his lap. He glared at me, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Why did you do that?"

"He's not dead," I said, wincing as I looked away. "Well, not any more dead. I would have had to drive the wood through his heart. I … I couldn't. The brain is delicate, though. It will take hours for his body to repair the damage." I slowly stood on shaky legs. "Things were getting out of hand. He's been temporarily removed from a very volatile situation so that everyone can take a breath."

"You're the one who should be removed! This is all your fault. All of it."

I pressed my lips together to keep a tortured gasp from escaping my lips. I couldn't ignore the truth of his words. This was my fault. If it weren't for me, Raven wouldn't even be in Hale's Corner.

I turned to look up the hall. Violetta had been carried off. Another attacker, likely in league with Raven, had spirited her away, deep into the tunnels, perhaps back to Gramercy House or beyond. We would have no hope of catching up to her abductor now.

I shook my head. This night could not have gone any worse. I glanced at Ambrose, who had yet to get back on his feet. I blinked at his still form on the ground, at the blood pooling around his head. "Ambrose!"

I rushed to his side. His hair was sticky with blood and flowing freely, his beautiful face pinched with pain. "Ambrose, hold on," I told him. "Head wounds always look worse than they are."

"I suppose you would know," he said, coughing.

I felt Maxwell at my side and watched him grasp his brother's hand. "No, no, no," he said. "You're okay. You're okay."

Ambrose grimaced. "Don't trust them. Don't …" His voice trailed off.

"Ambrose?" Maxwell shook Ambrose when he didn't answer. "Ambrose!"

I threw aside my jacket and ripped off strips of fabric from my shirt sleeves. I wound them around Ambrose's head, watching with increasing anxiety as blood seeped through quicker than I could wrap. My eyes drifted to his chest, watching it rise and fall, praying that it would continue. "Let's get him back to the house," I said, shrugging back into my jacket. I lifted Ambrose in my arms with a grunt. I looked past him. "We'll have to send a search party for Violetta. Perhaps your hunters will come in use." I didn't say she was probably long gone, at the mercy of whatever foul creature had been here. We wouldn't have had the time to spare to search for her with Ambrose in such a dire condition anyway.

"They're not my hunters." Maxwell grabbed my arm. "Lucian, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I … just … I can't lose him. Please."

I couldn't promise him anything. My heart ached, but all I could do was get Ambrose somewhere where a doctor could see to him. "I won't hurt him," I promised, gazing down at Ambrose.

"I know you won't." A muscle twitched in Maxwell's cheek as he met my eyes. "You saved my life tonight. I don't know the type of man you used to be, Lucian. But I know who you are now. You're no monster."

My throat thickened with emotion. "Maxwell. I—"

"Later," he said, glancing at Emmett's prone form. "I'm not letting him go again," he insisted. I hesitated, but nodded as Maxwell pulled the stake from Emmett's eye and tossed it aside with distaste, then lifted him with effort. He nodded, and we returned to the carriage as quickly as possible.