Page 61 of Blood & Bedlam

The moon is full and high on the banks of the Pontchartrain, much like that night all those years ago, when I offered the girls their immortality. Reine’s hand is in mine, strong and present with no more secrets between us. No more past lives.

Just our future.

The waves lap against the shore, the south winds crisp on the heels of a storm as we walk and exist in each other’s presence. Her body is weak, drained of her blood, with only mine sustaining her transition. I bring us to a stop, looking out over the brackish water and she shivers against the wind, her lips chapped, eyes wide as I hold her in my arms. Her transition has been rougher than the girls or their partners ever were, thanks to the ravages of rampant magic. I worried she wouldn’t survive it, but here she stands, starving.

“This is where they turned. All four of them partook the Blood in this very spot,” I tell her, bringing her trembling hand to my lips. “As were Drake, Serena, Dasher, and Kendra. This is where our family is consecrated, and where you can be too.” She looks up at me, the hunger heavy in her eyes, but there’s also trust and so much love. So much it steals my breath.

“You don’t have to do this, Reine. We can find another way,” I whisper, needing her to hear me. When she finally told me about her talk with Thanatos, I was angry, but she was stoically resigned. Her hand rises to cup my face, and I turn my head, kissing her palm.

“This is the only way. I’ve made my peace with it,” she promises, and I nod, then step back, waving a hand over a shaded part of the silt. My shadows swirl and dissipate, revealing a man in my thrall. He’s elderly, on his knees, his face split into a wide smile, the whites of his eyes exposed to the stars. I grab her hand and lead her closer, watch her tremble with apprehension as she steels herself for what’s to come. The final step in her immortal life.

“This is Benoit, Reine,” I say gently, guiding her until she stands over him.

“What has he done?” she asks, her voice catching.

“Nothing. Benoit is a good man. He has been a feeder for many years. Has lived a good life.”

Horror washes over her face, warring with confusion as her eyebrows scrunch together. Her hair looks nearly blue in the night, her skin pale, her lips wine red.

“I thought we only killed the evil? The girls, they told me—” Her voice rises in pitch, hysteria and nerves boiling over. I grab her shoulders gently and soothe her, pulling her attention to me.

“He is dying, my star. Stage four pancreatic cancer. He has no family left, no children, and he will not last the month. He asked for a swift death, a mercy before he wastes away. His religion prevents him from doing it himself. You’ll find, sometimes, that death can be a release.” I glance down at Benoit’s face, the look of bliss he wears. In his mind, he’s replaying a gentler time, summer love in the throes of the sixties.

“The girls were in a different place when they turned. They needed vengeance. They needed a place for their rage. You don’t.”

Her gaze drops back to Benoit, and she turns, giving him her full attention. She can smell his blood, and even with dulled senses, the rot underneath of dying tissue. Her hands splay across his face, tracing his wrinkles and laugh lines reverently, committing him to memory.

“Will it hurt?” she whispers, concern lacing her tone.

“Not if you’re careful,” I assure her. She swallows, and I know the ache she’s feeling. The hunger is cruel. Unbearable.

Still, she’s gentle as she tilts his head. He obeys without protest, still smiling, enjoying his greatest hits in my thrall. Reine’s mouth opens with a pop, her true fangs descending. They’re much more impressive than the tiny elongations of her canines that our Bonding provided her with, and so new, they’re dripping with her venom.

“Thank you, Benoit,” she whispers, then slowly, she lowers her teeth to his neck. She shows incredible restraint as she bites down, sinking into his artery. There’s a frustrated tension in her shoulders as she tries to maneuver him to angle better. Even on his knees, Benoit is a tall man, and she barely has to hunch to get to him.

“Gentle,” I caution, letting my shadows lift his body. She groans as she feeds, and I feel his life force drain, feel the slowing of his heart as she consumes and is made whole by his sacrifice.

We both hear his heart gallop to a final stop, and she stills.

“Retract your fangs, my star. Open your eyes and see.” She moves back, and I gently lay his body down, commanding my shadows to cover him once more. They will take him for a proper burial, with honor and respect and care.

Reine’s eyes are bright and glassy, as she stares down at the man who ushered in her transition. The smile on his face is content, and she bends down to gently close his eyes. When she stands, she is made anew.

Power radiates from her, so potent I can taste it on the air around her. She stares out over the water, taking in the lights in the distance, breathing in air with a clarity she never has before. The wind tosses her curls around her face, and I’m awestruck by her strength. I offer my hand, and when she takes it, sparks fly up our arms. Her eyes widen, and she crashes her lips to mine. I taste the slightly bitter remnants of Benoit’s blood, but beneath that is all her.

“I love you.” She smiles, her hands roaming over my body, gripping my hair with incredible strength. She jumps, wrapping her legs around me, and I feel a new hunger radiating from her.

“As I love you.” Her head falls back at my words, offering me her neck. I place a kiss to the small hollow of her throat, trace my tongue over the skin, and as it always is with Reine, it’s pure magic and sunlight I taste.

“I want to see it all,” she demands, and because I would never deny her anything, I oblige.

The city blurs around us as we fly, and in her arms, I am home.

Reine

EPILOGUESIX MONTHS LATER

My body is on fire.