36. Damien

Maria waitsfor me in the Guardian’s brownstone, her stance rigid, anticipation painting her harsh features.

“Damien,” she greets, quickly getting to business. “Everything is in place. Viktor is where he’s supposed to be. The girl is here and ready.”

“Show me.”

We move through the brownstone, the wood creaking under our steps, and she leads me inside a dimly lit room where a young, human woman sits waiting for us.

Eliza’s transformation is nothing short of striking.

After weeks on the streets, her blonde hair had become flat and lifeless, her clothes worn and tattered, her face hollow, and her dark green eyes hopeless.

However, I know resilience and a determination to change your circumstances—no matter what the cost—when I see it. She has it. It’s why I chose her.

Now, her hair cascades in soft, luscious waves around her shoulders, catching the dim light and shimmering like spun gold. Her attire, chosen with care, hugs her body in all the right places, and her makeup causes her green eyes to pop with an otherworldly intensity.

Finally, there’s the jewelry. Strategically placed to catch the eye, it will almost certainly appeal to Viktor’s compulsion to acquire valuable things.

“Well done,” I say to Maria, and then I turn my attention back to Eliza. “You look stunning.”

She offers a small, uncertain smile. “Thank you,” she says, unable to meet my eyes.

“Eliza,” I begin, speaking slowly to convey the sincerity of my words, “After tonight, the Fairmont will be your home. You’ll no longer have to worry about where your next meal comes from or where you’ll sleep each night. This task isn’t just about aiding us. It’s about securing a future where you’ll be taken care of for the rest of your life.”

Maria nods in agreement. “You’re doing us a great service,” she says. “And remember—it’s not just the human world you’ll be protected from, but the supernatural world as well.”

“Right,” she says, although her gaze is far off.

I know the look well.

It’s the look of a human who recently discovered the existence of our kind, and who knows the world as they knew it will never be the same again. One who knows how weak they truly are, and how much they need our protection, no matter what.

“You won’t be alone,” Maria adds. “We’ll be closely monitoring you the entire time. You’re safe in our hands.”

Eliza nods, determination returning to her features. “I’m ready,” she says, and I reach into my pocket for the small plastic bag, removing the last adornfruit—lustberry—that I possess and handing it to her.

“This will ensure you’re irresistible tonight,” I remind her. “But more importantly, it will protect you by clouding Viktor’s judgment and ensuring your safety.”

Without hesitation, she takes the berry and eats it, her eyes widening as its magic takes effect.

She was beautiful before, but now, she’s so stunning that it’s like she’s a light trying to capture the darkness.

A glance at the desire in Maria’s eyes shows that she’s experiencing a pull toward the human girl as well.

“Come on,” I say, snapping myself back to focus by calling an image of Amber to my mind. “We have no time to waste.”

As we walk the ten minutes to the White Horse Tavern—the second oldest bar in the city—my thoughts drift to that time in London, back in the eighteenth century, soon after I was turned. I was out with a human woman I’d come to care about during that time in my life. A woman who reminded me of the humanity I’d recently lost.

We were… enjoying ourselves in a back alley when a ruthless vampire from a rival clan found us. With her life and mine at stake, and without the fighting skills I have now, I seized a moment of distraction to push two unfortunate street-dwellers into the path of the oncoming vampire.

Their screams echoed in the night as I fled with her under the cover of darkness.

It wasn’t my hand that directly killed them. But I still caused their deaths.

I want Eliza to survive this. Really, I do.

But in the games of supernaturals, there are always pawns.

Pawns, unfortunately, don’t always survive.

I’m yanked out of the memories when we arrive at the tavern. It’s a Thursday night, which always brings an interesting crowd. Men who have been coming to this place for decades, young professionals wanting to get a head start on their weekend, and the occasional NYU student looking for a different scene than the college bars near the school.

“It’s time,” I tell Eliza. “Remember—after tonight, you’ll be taken care of for the rest of your life. You can do this.”

She takes a deep breath, and without a moment’s hesitation, makes her way into the bar.

Maria and I, cloaked in the shadows, position ourselves outside the tavern’s view. From this vantage point, we have a clear line of sight through the windows. We won’t be able to see Viktor and Eliza until they leave, but there’s only one way out of this bar.

With the lustberry in Eliza’s system, it shouldn’t be long until Viktor’s ready to go back with her.

Maria shifts beside me, her eyes on the door. “She knows what to do,” she says, more to herself than to me.

“Yes. She does.”

Minutes stretch into an eternity. Then, finally, the door swings open, and laughter spills into the night. It’s them. Eliza and Viktor, clinging to each other, looking every bit the enamored couple.

Eliza’s playing her part flawlessly, her laughter light and flirtatious, her body language inviting.

As expected with the lustberry, Viktor’s focused on her. He leans in, and their lips meet in a kiss that seems to draw the night to a standstill. With the combination of the intoxicating berry, Eliza’s beauty, and the jewels she’s wearing sparkling in the moonlight, he’s completely and utterly enchanted.

They break apart, and she takes Viktor’s hand, leading him down the street with a nearly supernatural confidence.

Maria and I follow at a safe distance, blending into the shadows like phantoms of the night. We’re heading north, to one of the high-rise hotels in Manhattan’s trendy Meatpacking District. It overlooks the water, with prime views of a pier called Little Island that’s covered with manmade hills, trees, and paths that’s become popular with tourists since its completion a few years ago.

Eliza’s laughter floats back to us as she and Viktor stop in front of the hotel.

“This is where I’m staying,” she tells him, her voice carrying the perfect blend of innocence and allure. “Do you want to come up for a drink? The view from my room is amazing.”

He leans in for a deep kiss, eventually pulling back and gazing into her big, hopeful eyes. “I’d love nothing more than to have a drink with you.”

As they enter the building, Maria and I exchange a look before slipping inside behind them. It’s an easy task, given that we’re also guests at this hotel.

Not only are we guests—we’re the ones who purchased the room they’re heading to, along with the room next to it, with the connecting door. Which means Eliza isn’t the only one with a key.

All we have to do is wait for them to get inside the elevator. Then, we head to the stairs, making our way up to their floor.

Maria enters the room next to theirs.

I pause in front of their door, listening.

Sure enough, I can make out Eliza’s moans coming from inside.

Viktor sure didn’t waste a moment before getting to business with that… drink.

Unwilling to waste one more second, I slip the keycard into the reader and enter the room.

Viktor’s hunched over Eliza, who lies limp and unconscious on the bed, one arm dangling off the side of it. His fangs are buried in her neck, and the room is thick with the scent of blood. He’s so consumed with bloodlust that he doesn’t even hear me enter.

I can’t move, can’t think, as I watch the man who’s been all but a brother to me these past few years turn into a monster before my eyes.

This is the first time seeing him up close since he left Amber to die in front of an oncoming train.

And in that moment, the Viktor I’ve always known is dead to me forever.