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My hands trembled now. I ignored her question. No point in answering it anyway. We both understood the odds here. “If you’re so confident in your victory, why not let it play out?”
“Because despite your high opinion of your significance, you’re merely an inconvenience. One I’d like to dispose of quickly so I can focus on more important issues.”
The jab hit home, but I didn’t show it. “You mean the war.”
She tipped her chin to acknowledge the truth of that statement. “Among other things.”
“So the prophecy, then? If you really believe I’m destined to f**k up your war plans, why haven’t you killed me yet?”
“What I believe in is inconsequential. Master Mahan has plans that happen to support my personal goals.” When she said that name— “Master Mahan”— Stryx hooted softly. I ignored him because, well, I didn’t like looking at him with his freaky red eyes and his creepy tendency to screech my name at odd intervals.
I’d never heard the name in my life. “Who is that?”
Lavinia tilted her head and gave me the same look one might give a slow child. “Master Mahan”— another hoot “— is the leader of the Caste …. among other things. And he’s eager to meet you, Sabina.”
Obviously, I needed more information about that, but I knew she was trying to sidetrack me. “And what do you want?”
“To erase all mages from the planet.” She smiled with anticipation that made my blood run cold. “Especially the mixed-bloods.”
I didn’t react to her bait. After all, it’s not like she’d said anything I didn’t already know. “And Master Mahan? What does he want?”
She shrugged. “He wants the mages dead, as well, but for a different reason.”
“You forgot to mention he wants me dead, too. To ensure the war happens, right?”
Her eyes shot left. “You’ll find out his plans for you soon enough.”
I sighed. Cryptic bullshit always annoyed me. “How can I be sure Maisie’s even still alive?”
She withdrew something from the pocket of her dress. Gold glinted as she held it up to the light. Recognizing the jewelry, my veins went icy.
Maisie’s necklace.
The amulet symbolized her position as the High Priestess of the Chaste Moon. The moonstone matched the one around my own neck, as did the inscription on the gold setting, which read: For she is the torchbearer, this daughter of Hekate; she will light the way. In fact, the only difference between my necklace and Maisie’s was the smear of blood across the surface of her moonstone.
My stomach cramped with fear for my twin. I reached for the amulet, but Lavinia pulled it out of range, forcing me to step forward to capture it. Finally, my hand closed around the warm golden chain and I jerked it away.
“This doesn’t prove shit,” I gritted through clenched teeth.
“It’s the best you’re getting. Surrender now and you can go see her for yourself tonight.”
“Where is she?”
“Someplace most vampires wouldn’t be caught dead.” She chuckled as if she’d made a joke. “Now, are you going to surrender? Or are you going to force my hand and make me pick off each of your friends to make you see reason?” She jerked her head to indicate something behind me. I looked over my shoulder to see Adam crossing the street. The cat’s ass jutted from inside a white paper bag in his arms. The mage’s eyes scanned the crowd, obviously looking for me.
I turned back to my grandmother with a smile and crossed my arms. I opened my mouth to say something about it being too late to surrender, not that I ever really considered the option.
But before the words came out, Lavinia leaned in. Cold white hands clamped around my upper arms. “Her blood tastes like nectar.”
A flash of white rage exploded in my brain. Then an image of my grandmother bent over Maisie’s neck made my vision go bloody. I sprang forward with hands bent into claws and fangs snapping.
From far away, I heard Adam shout, “Sabina!”
Too late. Too late for reason. Too late for strategy or cool heads. The reel tape of Lavinia feeding from Maisie played over and over in fast-forward. And the soundtrack to that horror film was the voice in my head chanting kill, kill, kill.
Lavinia stumbled back, out of reach. Rage rocketed me forward. My nails sunk into the flesh of her shoulders. Slow motion. The whites of her eyes. My fangs throbbing. The descent toward her throbbing jugular. A loud pop. Stryx’s ear-piercing screech. Flapping wings. A hot blast of magic.
My momentum thrust me forward into empty air. The spot where she’d stood only milliseconds before. Ground rushed to meet my face. Crack of bone against brick. Stinging palms. The air and all sense knocked out of me.
6
Adam skidded to a halt above me. The cat’s tail jutted out of the bag in his arms.
Shaking myself, I tried to figure out what the hell just happened. “What the f**k, Adam?” I demanded.
The concern on his face morphed into confusion. “What?”
“Why did you zap her?” I demanded.
He went still. “Sabina, I didn’t. Couldn’t get a clear shot.”
My mouth fell open. “Well, how in the hell did she just disappear, then?”
But then it hit me. She’d fed from Maisie. I squeezed my eyes shut. Beyond my horror that Lavinia had fed from her own flesh and blood, a new terror dawned. Now that my grandmother had Maisie’s powerful blood in her system, she’d be harder to kill than ever. Sure, she was a powerful vampire— maybe the most powerful— but now Maisie’s blood also gave her the ability to use magic.
But that wasn’t the worst of it. Normally, injecting some form of the forbidden fruit into a vampire’s bloodstream cancelled out their immortality and allowed them to be killed. Yet I’d been staked twice in the heart with applewood and lived. My mixed blood somehow protected me from the effects. That same mixed blood also flowed in Maisie’s veins. And now, Lavinia’s. Which meant my grandmother might now be unkillable by conventional means. If one considered applewood stakes or bullets filled with cider conventional.
Before I could fill Adam in on this black news, several humans surrounded us. Their expressions ranged from concerned to amazed. They stared for a few tense moments before a smattering of confused applause rippled through the group.
A balding man with a Nikon dangling around his neck held out his hand. A crumpled dollar bill dangled from his grip. I stared at him, dumbfounded.
