Chapter 16

Chapter

Sixteen

Ana

I blindly walk through familiar hallways I've known for a hundred years, focussing only on the vampire ahead of me, reminding myself, over and over, to concentrate, to pull it together, to prepare myself for this call with Ember.

I like Ember. We met during that fiasco with Octavia. She was a good friend to me then, but if she doesn't already know about Phil, I'm not certain I can tell her, either.

The messenger pushes open the door leading to the archives.

Registering where the messenger led me, I stop. "Why the archives? There are many video stations in the palace capable of accepting incoming calls."

"I'm…I'm not certain why the call was answered in here." The messenger stares at the inlaid marble floor. "Shall I request to have the call transferred elsewhere?" She glances behind her.

"No, this will be fine." I continue forward, even though my gut says there's something fishy about taking the call in the same area where Blade's spent most of his time at the palace. The same place where he discovered whatever it is he wants to tell me. This is starting to feel like a trick.

I walk past a long table covered in old books, three of them open, and my attention's captured by a horrific illustration. I gasp. The elaborate panel, in colored ink, depicts horrific acts of torture and mayhem so disgusting it makes my already upset stomach churn. If that's the kind of thing Blade has been looking at, I'm not surprised he's become paranoid.

I shake my head. When I was studying at The Academy, I saw similar illustrations in my Vampire Mythology class. None of those myths were based on reality, only hatred and fear of the unknown. This illustration also comes from an illustrator's imagination, based on some myth about demons, intended to frighten people, or to encourage them to follow a particular religion.

Horrible as the drawing is, it's not real.

Stepping into a conference room, I'm immediately drawn toward Ember's image on the screen at its end.

"Ana!" Ember leans toward the camera and smiles. "How are you? It seems like ages since we talked, and so much has happened." She glances to the side, and her mate, Zuben steps into view.

"Princess." He bows, sharply.

I take a seat on a sofa in front of the screen, and the camera automatically adjusts its angle to keep me in its field of view.

My body tenses. Someone else is in this room. I turn to see Blade and Flame at the doorway. I didn't realize they'd followed me in.

"Do you mind ?" I say coldly.

"Mind what?" Zuben asks from the screen.

"She was talking to us." Flame steps forward.

Sensing movement, the camera adjusts so that Flame and Blade also appear on the screen with me. "Ana was subtly asking Blade and I to leave the room."

"Oh, I see." Zuben frowns. "Princess?—"

"Call me Ana. Please ." I get so exasperated, having to repeat this over and over with certain vampires. Zuben is undoubtedly handsome—beautiful really—and quite possibly a genius, but he's wound too tight. I don't get why Ember loves him. Her other two mates, Axel and Ryker—one a bear and one a pirate—are complete opposites to Zuben and far more appealing, in my opinion.

"If you insist, An-na," Zuben says stiffly, the two syllables of my nickname distinct from each other.

Ember takes his hand, pulling him down to sit next to her. And the moment they touch, his shoulders visibly relax. That, plus their exchanged look tells me all I need to know about their mutual attraction and love. Witnessing their onscreen love stabs me with deep regret and longing. Phil is gone. I'll never feel that way again.

"Ana," Zuben continues, saying my name more naturally this time. "It would be expeditious for Blade to remain in the room during this conversation, with your permission of course. Much of what we have to discuss is based on his research."

" That's what you're calling about?" I look accusatorially into Ember's eyes. Is she a pawn in this, or a willing participant? Whichever it is, they've clearly used her to lure me here.

"What is it?" I snap.

Zuben clears his throat. "Perhaps Blade should begin. He has the most complete informa?—"

"I want you to tell me, Zuben. I trust you." I shake my head. I trust Ember , and Zuben by extension. I trusted Ember until this call started anyway. "Ember, did they use you to get me to take this call?"

Zuben turns toward his mate.

"No," Ember responds. "It was my idea. I wanted to call." She squeezes her mate's leg. "Zuben came home from DEFTA visibly upset, and I dragged the reasons out of him." She looks at him with concern in her eyes. "When I heard he was having difficulties reaching you, I offered to do whatever I could. I only know a fraction of what's going on, but everything I've heard is alarming and you need to hear it."

"Okay, okay." I lean forward, trying not to let her blatant manipulation bother me. These men have done worse. And I need to remind myself of my role.

Personal pain, grief and anger should not impact my royal duties. "You may proceed."

"First," Zuben clears his throat. "We have confirmed that the demon survived Rasputin's death."

A shiver traces through me. "But Rasputin is dead."

He nods. "Yes. That has been confirmed. Rasputin's demise had an eyewitness."

I purse my lips. "That fiend has been confirmed dead in the past. Each time with witnesses."

Zuben glances to the side. "This time there is no doubt."

Relief floods through me. The man who haunted my childhood dreams, the abuser who stalked me long after he should have perished, is dead. Finally dead.

Then the crux of what Zuben is telling me sinks in. "Rasputin is dead, but the demon survived."

He nods.

"So, it found a new host?"

Zuben nods again.

"And do you think that host will come after me?"

"That particular answer is complicated." Again, Zuben glances to the side.

"Complicated because you don't know who the demon's new host is? Or because you don't know whether the host will pursue me?"

Zuben shakes his head, his eyes showing his reluctance to answer.

"Tell me!"

The image on the screen shifts.

The camera angle widens, adjusting to movement somewhere else in the room.

Phil steps into view.

Shooting to my feet, I leap toward the screen as if I can hug him over the thousands of miles between us. Seeing my love fills me with so much warmth and joy I can barely breathe.

"I knew it." My heart is thumping out of control, and I press my hands against my chest to keep it contained. "I knew you were alive. I felt it in every part of my being." My joy is even more overpowering than my grief has been.

"Yes, I am alive," Phil says, but he doesn't seem as happy about it as I am.

"How soon can you get here?" I ask, unable to wipe the wide grin off my face. "Why aren't you already on a plane?"

He shakes his head. "The demon will use me to find you."

"Who cares?" I ask. "We're both marked by that demon. It can't find us underground. You'll be safer here at the palace than you are at DEFTA." My heart is singing, my body humming with the anticipation of being in Phil's arms. No matter whether it's day or night in Philadelphia, DEFTA has ways to get him safely onto a plane. I'll see him in under eight hours. "Come right away, before the demon finds you again."

"I'm sorry." Phil looks away. "I would give anything to be with you, but it's not safe."

"Why?" I resist the urge to stomp my foot, like a belligerent child.

"There are things about this demon you don't understand," Blade says coming up beside me.

"Then tell me!" I glare at him. "I am sick and tired of you holding back information. All of you. No more lying. It's clear I can't trust any of you."

On the screen, Phil flinches.

"Darlin'." Flame draws my attention toward him. "We're trying to give you the information. We brought you here to see Phil, but also to hear everything Blade and Zuben have discovered. Will you let them?"

I shake out my body, trying to get all the parts of me synced. My mind, body, and emotions have been tossed back and forth too many times—between good and bad news, between grief and elation, between anger and joy. "Please. Whatever it is, tell me."

Blade glances back toward the hallway. "I should get the relevant texts?—"

"Blade. Just tell me."

"Hey." Flame runs his arm over my back. "He's trying his best."

I glance into Flame's bright blue eyes, and my rage shatters. He's right. Everyone here is trying to help me. And my anger—my confused emotions are the main thing holding back their progress.

"I apologize," I say to Blade. "It's clear that whatever you've learned has been difficult for you too."

He nods, his silver eyes brimming with fear that chills me, adding another conflicting emotion to the confusing mix already swirling inside me.

"Why don't we sit?" Flame's hand slides up to my shoulder, and he guides me down to the sofa, leaving his arm over my shoulder.

Blade shifts closer to the screen that still shows Phil, alongside Ember and Zuben, with a smaller image of me, Blade and Flame in the bottom corner.

"Based on everything we've learned." Blade glances toward Zuben on the screen, then back to me and Flame. "The demon that possessed Rasputin for a hundred years was a Pain Monger. On its own, this kind of demon holds few powers on earth. That's probably how it managed to remain undetected after most demons were banished to their proper realm."

"If it has so little power…" I stop myself. Clearly there's more to hear. I should let Blade finish.

"To take possession of a soul," Blade says, "the demon strikes deals with its host. Deals which escalate over time. And the more hosts it uses, the deals it strikes, the more power it gains, and the more it can torture its host and control their actions."

I nod. Clearly it made deals with Rasputin to keep him alive. Deals that involved me. My stomach flips, as I remember the horrible things Rasputin did and said when he held me captive in that house.

"With each new host," Blade continues, "the demon gains more power. In a nutshell, this type of demon feeds on the pain of others. Intense pain. And the more energy it gains, the more influence it has over its host—and over others."

A shiver traces through me, wondering how many hosts the demon had before Rasputin, and who it's inside now. "So, how do we kill it?"

"We do not know all those details yet," Zuben answers, "but there is more you should know."

I shift on the sofa, squirming from the anxiety buzzing through my body. It's difficult to listen when I want to act . Act on getting Phil here—or going to him—if he refuses to come here. Act on getting this demon out of this realm forever. Act on killing the demon myself, if I must.

Flame squeezes my shoulders to get my attention. Looking into his compassionate eyes, I calm myself enough to concentrate. These men want the same things I do.

"Continue," I tell Blade and Zuben. "I apologize for the interruption."

Blade offers a shaky smile, and a light of realization goes on inside me. Blade is terrified. They all are. And these men aren't easily frightened.

My belly tightens. My own confused emotions blocked my ability to sense what they're going through. "Please." I look between Blade and Zuben. "Tell me everything you know. No matter how bad."

Blade swallows, his Adam's apple visibly bobbing. "As we said, this demon feeds on intense pain." He winces. "You already witnessed that firsthand."

I nod. It clearly enjoyed hurting me, I just didn't understand why.

"While the demon can feed off the pain of anyone—or anything," Zuben adds, "the pain of females is what it most craves. And once the demon marks its target, it craves pain inflicted in a particular way, on that particular female."

"On me." I say darkly. "It craves my pain." An anvil of fright lands on my chest as the words escape. I'm the marked one. I'm the particular female whose pain the demon craves.

Blade nods.

"Why me?"

"Based on what Blade and I have researched and discussed," Zuben answers, "it is likely that Rasputin was the one who chose you. Perhaps not fully understanding all the implications." He leans forward. "I gather you were very young when he marked you." Compassion flashes in his eyes. "Once you were chosen, you became the demon's main target."

My belly tightens. "What does it want from me?"

Flame presses his leg against mine, and his strength and heat penetrate the icy chill that's invaded my body.

"Pain," Zuben answers flatly. "It wants your pain. Intense pain, preferably pain inflicted through violent sexual acts. Also, through multiple rapid pregnancies and excruciating childbirths."

Flame's hand tightens around my shoulders, and rage invades Phil's image on the screen. His fists are so tight his fingers are going to break.

A memory flashes. "While Rasputin held me captive, he said he wanted to plant his seed inside me." I'm not sure if I shared this detail in the past.

"Yes, the seed of evil." Zuben leans toward the camera. "Once born, the demon's spawns will walk this realm without a host. The spawns will gestate and age rapidly—going from conception to full maturity in a few months. Each time you give birth, the demon will impregnate you again. And each spawn will sire many children of their own. The demon and its descendants will soon control all of humanity."

"Control them how?" My chest is so tight, my words are barely audible.

"Influence humans to torture each other. To commit despicable, unthinkable acts. This hatred and cruelty will rapidly spread around the earth. Our world as we know it will devolve into what some religions call Hell."

I remember the images I saw in that book, and my mind swirls. Now dizzy, I fight to concentrate, to understand, to try to compartmentalize myself from this problem. This is only another diplomatic issue I need to solve. I must ignore that I'm at its center.

"So, if I understand," I say as calmly as I can muster. "As long as I don't get pregnant… I mean, it's very difficult for vampires to bear children." A sharp stab of sadness strikes. I've never thought about having children—not since I was one myself—but I suddenly realize that children were part of my imagined future with these men.

Blade turns away, and I get a feeling he's thought about having children too.

"Your Highne—" Zuben cuts himself off. "Ana." He clears his throat. "Impregnating you will not be difficult for the demon, and I'm afraid that's not the only risk. Even without planting its seed, this demon has already grown more powerful than described in any of the texts. With each life it takes, it gains fuel and can grant its hosts more abilities. And we have no idea how much power it has gained through possessing a vampire—" He stops short.

"Possessing Diederik, you mean."

Zuben nods stiffly.

"We've seen how easily the demon's host can imitate the dead," Blade interjects. "And Phil and Crusher saw it control the minds of the living." He turns toward Phil on the screen.

"The vampires who attacked Crusher and me on that roof," Phil says blankly, "they came at us like zombies. They ambushed us, even though we were on high alert."

"Shit." Crusher steps out of a shadow.

Everything inside me clenches. With all that's been going on, I didn't realize he was in the room, but it was Crusher I sensed when I first came in.

"We should have been able to detect them," Crusher says. "Can this demon mask heartbeats and scents too?"

"That is one theory," Zuben answers.

Phil nods toward Crusher, and more fury rises inside me—all of it directed at Crusher.

"You told me Phil was dead ." I glare at him. "You left him behind, and then lied to me about it. Lied to me about the most important thing in my life."

Phil sucks in a sharp breath.

"I believed he was dead." Crusher raises his palms toward me. "I just found out that he's not," he says. "And from the second I found out, I wanted to tell you. We've all been trying to tell you."

"It's true," Flame says against my ear. "It was Phil who didn't want you to know."

Standing, I step toward Phil's image on the screen. "You wanted me to think you were dead?" My voice comes out as broken as I feel.

"My love." He reaches toward the screen, then looks down. "I would give anything to be with you. I would give my life to be with you."

"Then what are you waiting for?" My chest heaves. "Get on a plane. This minute!"

"I can't." He shakes his head. "The one thing I won't give is your life."

"That doesn't make any sense. Why are you making excuses?" Hurt stirs the quagmire of joy and fear inside me. Doesn't he want to be with me?

Phil won't make eye contact.

Crusher steps forward, drawing the camera's attention until he fills the screen instead of me. "She needs to know."

I punch his arm. "Know what ? Are you guys lying to me—again?" I glare at Crusher, wishing my look could actually kill him.

On the screen, Phil glares ahead, clearly aiming his warning eyes at Crusher. "Don't you fucking dare ."

"What's going on?" I turn toward Blade, and then to Flame.

"Phil's afraid for you," Flame says. "We're all afraid for you. Blade and Zuben have discovered a ton about this demon, but until we're certain how to kill it, it's best if you and Phil stay apart."

Flame is clearly terrified that something bad will happen if Phil comes.

"Ana needs to know," Crusher says. "She deserves to be the one to decide."

I can't believe that he's the one supporting my position.

"Ana." Crusher's voice vibrates deep in my bones. "Phil and Zuben told you that the demon found a new host, but they didn't tell you who that host is."

"So, who is it?" I step toward the screen. Zuben and Ember are looking down, and Phil is glaring so hard his look would literally kill Crusher if he were in the room.

Phil turns toward me, and his expression softens. "Ana. My love. Do you trust me?"

"With my life."

"Then you need to be patient. And you need to believe me that it's too dangerous for us to be together right now."

"Why?" My heart is pounding so loudly, I can barely hear anything else. And worse, now I'm angry with Phil too.

"Ana." Crusher's deep voice draws my attention.

I turn toward him, and the compassion I see in his expression hits me straight in the belly—not to mention lower. As much as I know I can never forgive Crusher, I can't deny how he affects me.

"The demon's new host?—"

"No!" Phil shouts.

Crusher touches my shoulder. "The demon's new host is Phil."