“It was war,” Ian says. “We were on different sides then, and we did what soldiers do. Now, it’s a different war, and we’re on the same side.”
“Then we are of like minds. Have you a carriage? If not, I would be honored to have you ride with me.”
“He’s riding with me,” Richard says. “But we’re going by car.”
I can tell from Fabian’s curled lip that he finds the thought of traveling in such a vehicle distasteful. He’s obviously embraced the Old Family’s dislike of modern conveniences and isn’t quite as rebellious as Richard and Victor are.
“Cousins!” a vampire shouts, striding toward us. From his black hair to his blue eyes and sharp royal features, he has Valentine written all over him. He stops before us. “You’re looking well.”
“Dawn, allow me to introduce Rayne Valentine,” Victor says. “I believe you’ve had the honor of meeting his father, Seymour.”
It wasn’t that much of an honor. He is Murdoch Valentine’s brother and expressed an interest in becoming head of the family once Murdoch was dead. But Victor quickly put him in his place. Diplomacy forces me to say, “I remember him well.”
“He did not speak highly of you,” he says. “But my father has always been a terrible judge of character, and I’m sure he made his usual mistake with you.”
He takes my hand and kisses it. Then kisses it again. And again.
“All right,” Victor says, playfully slapping his hand away. “I see that only some of the Valentines have kept their manners after all these years.”
“Yes,” he says, “and the other half have kept their good looks.” He combs back his hair with his hands.
Victor laughs. “You’re just as I remembered.”
“Dashing?”
“Arrogant.”
“I’ll take it.”
They pat each other on the shoulders in the exact same way any cousins would at a family reunion.
“Why are you here, Rayne?” Faith asks.
He appears taken aback by her question. “I came at Victor’s behest to represent the Valentine family.”
Faith shakes her head. “No, I’m going on behalf of the Valentines.”
Uh-oh. Now I know why there was one more number than I expected.
“Faith,” Victor says quietly, moving toward his sister. “We can’t risk you going.”
She spins around, her face livid. “What are you talking about?”
“If anything were to happen to you—”
“Do I have to remind you that I’ve already been to Los Angeles?”
“We didn’t realize how bad it was then,” Richard says.
Faith glares at him. “I held my own.”
“You did.”
“Then why did Victor send for Rayne?”
“Faith—”
“Why?”
Richard moves with such quickness, just a blur, and he’s holding her, hands on her face, her tears running through his fingers.
“Because I can’t protect them if you’re with me. You’ll be the only thing I care about. You . . . you are the only thing I care about.”
“But who will protect you?” she asks, her voice just a whisper.
“They will.”
She shakes her head like it isn’t enough. “No one can protect you like I can.”
He pulls her into his shoulder and holds her. “I know.”
“I’d never hurt you.”
“I know.”
She isn’t talking about Los Angeles anymore or protecting him from Sin’s army. She pulls back, her arms around his neck. “Just return to me.”
When she steps away, Victor looks at Richard and I see the loyalty—even the love—they have for each other. A hundred years of a deep connection that few vampires ever experience. They hug, and when they part, Victor gives a final nod.
Before they can leave, I rush over to Ian, who is loading up the trunk of the car.
“Ian.”
He turns toward me and I can sense the bristling power, the excitement of the mission to come. But I also sense the recognition that it could be one mission too many.
“Don’t say goodbye,” he says. “It’s bad luck.”
“Then what should I say?”
Ian smiles and looks up at the sky, as if recognizing for the first time how clear it is tonight.
“Just say, ‘I’ll see you when you get back.’”
“I will. I’ll see you when you get back.”
He puts his hand on my head and rubs my hair, like a father proud of his little girl.
From the steps of the manor, Victor, Faith, and I watch the carriages roll out in a steady procession, led by the car that contains Richard and Ian.
“We need to get that Sin-worshipping bitch to talk,” Faith says. “I’m in the mood to take down some Day Walkers.”
Chapter 21
Faith stalks off to her room, probably to hurl some valuables around. Victor stares off into the night sky, his mind perhaps considering the methods they used during the war. What kind of things did he do then that made people talk? I have a terrible feeling in my gut that Victor can be much, much more persuasive if he wants to be. But will that unleash the monster within? Will Victor lose what makes him so human if he has to resort to such horrific things that he locked away long ago?
“Let me talk to Eris,” I say.
Victor turns and assesses me. “All right,” he agrees. “Perhaps she’ll be more willing to talk if you’re alone with her.” We walk back into the house and continue on to the study. He opens up a drawer on the desk and pulls out a metal stake. He places it in my hand. “Just in case. She’ll be weaker, but it’s also possible she’s been faking her lack of strength. For all we know, she could just be waiting for the right opportunity to break through the chains.”
I nod, understanding that if I must, I’ll put this through her heart.
In the dungeon I dismiss the guard watching her. We’re all alone, the pale light from the flickering lamps casting more shadows than revealing our surroundings. Eris seems weak. The combination of blood hunger and stress is finally showing on the chained emissary. She’s pale, leading me to wonder whether her beautiful skin has come from the sun or a healthy supply of fresh blood. Her hair is dirty and slick with oil and sweat. Victor’s ruse is having an effect. She looks like she wants to give up. For her, the strength she would gain from the Thirst is no consolation for becoming hideous.
I soften my footsteps and kneel in front of her, trying to act more like a friend than adversary. She looks up at me, surrender evident in her eyes. I brush the hair off her face, using a gentle touch.
“I want to talk,” I say.
“Then talk.” Her voice has lost its luster, replaced with the cold need to survive.
“How much longer do you have?” I ask.
“You’re the vampire expert, you tell me.”
“I’m no expert in the Thirst. But I’ve heard that a vampire can feel the change coming.”
She looks away, her chest rising and falling, struggling against the constricting chains.
“I don’t know,” she says to the floor. “I feel weak, but I also feel like I’m on the verge of something, like a terrible black void is right behind me and I’m about to slip into it.”
“I wonder if that’s what my brother felt.”
Her head tilts up, sorrow and confusion on her face.
“My brother was just like you,” I say. “He was a Day Walker, turned by Sin.”
“I know,” she says quickly. I imagine she knows just about everything Sin does, which is I why I need her to talk. Even if I have to confess things I’d rather keep bottled away.
“Did Sin tell you how Brady succumbed to the Thirst?” I ask.
“No.”
“Brady refused to drink from humans. He didn’t want to hurt them, so he fed on vampires, thinking that would sustain him. It didn’t. The Thirst took over his mind.”