“Are you immortal?” he blurted out, fear pounding in his head. His heart. Every part of him.
Fuck. Why the hell hadn’t he thought to ask sooner?
“Don’t… know. Never… almost died before.” She tried to laugh, but the movement sent a spasm of pain through her body.
Gabriel grabbed her hand and held tight, trying to work out the answer on his own. “Witches aren’t immortal, and neither are demonic vessels, but demonic essences are. Unless they’re exorcised, of course. Your father is a mage, so he wouldn’t be. But your mother is an original—definitely immortal.” He walked backward through time, desperately trying to remember anything he might’ve learned about genetics from Colin, from their father’s medical books, from the damn television, but nothing came to him.
“Gabriel, I need… to tell you… I…” She coughed, blood leaking from her mouth, a dark streak against pale lips.
No. I’m not letting you die tonight. Not like this, for fuck’s sake.
“Hey,” he said softly, brushing a kiss over her brow. “You can tell me anything you’d like later. Anything at all. Bad jokes, your dirtiest fantasies…” This earned him a small smile, and it buoyed him. “Actually, I’d take the fantasies over the jokes, but—”
“Ladies’ choice,” she whispered, and Gabriel nodded.
“For you, always.”
“Sleep now.” Her voice was faint, her eyelids fluttering closed.
“Not yet, moonflower.” He kissed her again, soft as a breeze. “You’ve still got a few hours left on your shift.”
The ghost of a smile returned to her lips, but it fell away just as quickly.
“Jacinda,” he said. “Jace. Wake up, love. I need you to wake up.”
She stirred again, barely clinging to consciousness.
“That’s it.” Gabriel stroked her hair. “Good girl. Just a little longer, and—”
Charlotte burst into the office, breathless, joining him at the desk. “They’re almost here—they were both still in the city. Five more minutes tops. How is she?”
Gabriel shook his head, unable to speak through the grief and panic rising in his throat.
“Fuck, Gabriel. Jaci… she saved my life.” Charlotte’s voice quavered, a tear sliding down her cheek. “I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t know. I…”
“I know. It’s not your fault.” Gabriel wrapped a hand around the back of Charlotte’s neck and squeezed, and together they held their silent vigil, waiting.
The span of those five minutes felt like fucking forever, and by the time Colin and Isabelle arrived, supplies in hand, Jacinda was pale and listless, no longer speaking at all, her pulse faint. The two experts swept in and got to work examining the wound, taking vitals, each speaking their own language—medical jargon, magical, nothing Gabriel could follow.
There in the corner, just behind the desk where the woman who’d stolen his heart lay bleeding to death, the child who’d haunted him for centuries flickered into view. She stared openly, her eyes as empty as ever, the weight of her silent accusations more than he could bear.
If she dies,he wanted to tell her,I’m going with her.
He knew it as certainly as he knew his own name. Of all the guilt he carried, all the vile things he’d done as a man and a vampire both, all the regrets that haunted his nightmares and burned through his chest with every waking breath,thiswould be the last. The death knell for a vicious monster who didn’t deserve to walk this earth. A monster who should’ve been banished to hell the moment he’d made his very first kill.
Good,the child seemed to say.That’s where you belong.
Finally, the doctor and the witch came to an agreement—the stake had missed the heart, but still nicked something vital, and Viansa’s dark magic seemed to be making the whole situation worse. Blood welled up around the wound, black and viscous.
“So do something!” Gabriel roared, his voice raw, his body buzzing with adrenaline and fury. “Fix her!”
“We’re doing everything we can,” Colin said softly. Then, looking to Charlotte, his eyes imploring, “Get him out of here.”
Charlotte nodded and reached for Gabriel’s arm. Reluctantly, he allowed himself to be led out, closing the office door behind him, hoping like hell the very last memory of his little moonflower wouldn’t be soaked in blood.
Chapter Eighteen
The vampires stood on the balcony overlooking the main level, hundreds of revelers downstairs caught up in their endless partying as if they hadn’t just been completely mind-fucked by a succubus.
