I gather beside Eleanor and my friends while Father Simon, an Upyr priest who once served in the court of King James II, gives the last rites. I search the mourning faces. Someone in this crowd killed and husked Alyra, along with two other humans. They probably attended Alaric’s vampire ball and watched us condemn an innocent man for their crimes.
Baylor was far from innocent.
I look around at my friends. Every member of the Nevermore Murder Club and Smutty Book Coven is in attendance as special guests of Gideon. The only humans invited into our sanctified rites. They all wear tasteful black and have their heads bowed – except for Celeste, who told the others she couldn’t make it, but instead stalks around the perimeter of the woods in her wolf form, sniffing, searching for the scent she smelled in the woods that night.
A scent she couldn’t smell on Alyra… but the body had been outside for a whole day.
I will do anything to protect them. I will not see one of my friends in a mahogany box because of this beast.
When the rites are over and the servers light the fragrant braziers and pass around trays of blood cocktails, I notice Gideon standing beside the empty plinth that once held his bust of me. Instead of being surrounded by his usual gaggle of sycophants, he’s alone, his fingers drumming against a glass of pure vintage blood.
He smiles at me – although it doesn’t reach his eyes – and beckons me with a finger. I float away from my friends, crossing the stepping stones over the babbling stream, and step up beside him.
“A sad day,” I say.
“Yes.”
This isn’t the Gideon I know. He fidgets. He looks everywhere but my eyes.
I swallow. “You didn’t have to let me stay at Sanctus.”
“It’s easier this way. If the Conclave found out about the robbery, Sanctus would be finished. Besides, you still need to sell the rest of the Sanctus treasure, and find out who’s been stealing from me.” He sucks in a shuddering breath. “Something tells me I’ll need every Merovingian coin for what’s coming.”
“I’m already looking for a new house. I’ll be gone just as soon as I can sell my Sanctus place.”
“You don’t have to do that. Just because we’re not…anything, doesn’t mean you should lose Sanctus. It’s supposed to be your sanctuary, too.” His shoulders sag. “Arabella, hear me out. I swear it’s the last time.”
The seriousness in his tone snaps my gaze to his.
“I want to apologise. I’ve been harassing you. For over a hundred years, I thought you were dead, I thought that I’d lost the love of my life, and I let that loss define me and every decision I made afterwards – and they weren’t all good, noble decisions. When you showed up in that supermarket looking like a Bond villain on sabbatical, I thought, this is the universe giving me another chance. This time, I wouldn’t let anyone take you away from me. I thought that if I could just make you see that I’ve changed, that I wouldn’t hurt you like I did back then, I’d finally be redeemed. I wouldn’t be the monster everyone says I am, the monster I’ve always believed myself to be.
“But all this time, I’ve disregarded your feelings. You’ve told me that you don’t want me, and I didn’t listen. I thought I read flirtation behind your barbs, because that was always how things were between us, but in honouring my grief, I haven’t respected yours. You have a right to hate me, Arabella, and if I truly care about you, I have to respect that. So, this is the last time you’ll hear from me. I’m signing over ownership of Sanctus to you.”
“What?”
Did I hear that right?
“Sanctus is yours. I may have built it, but the Conclave hates me too much. I’m a liability. Sanctus deserves a chance to thrive without me.”
“I don’t want to own this place. What are you talking about?”
“Yes, you do. That’s been your plan all along, yes? That’s why you agreed to bail me out, and then reported on me to the Conclave. I took La Petite Mort from you, so you take Sanctus from me. I know it’s not as much fun if I hand it over, but…” He shrugs. “You’ve beaten me. You’ve won.”
“This is a trick.”
“No trick. I’m keeping my promise. I’m giving up.”
I puff out my lip. “Gideon Blake doesn’tgive up.”
“He does when he realises he’s been a complete arse. I love you, Arabella. I’ve made no secret of that, but I can’t charm you into loving me back. You’ve made it clear that you won’t be happy until you have your revenge. And I want you to be happy. So if that means givingyou Sanctus…” He shrugs again. “It’s yours. I know you’ll take care of this place in a way I can’t. As soon as the arrangements are done, I’m leaving. In the meantime, I won’t speak to you except for Sanctus business. I’m having Sinead redecorate Sanctus Club so it no longer resembles La Petite Mort.” Tears roll down his cheeks. “This feels like tearing off my arm and eating it, but that’s the least of what I deserve. I’ll do what I should have done from the moment I saw you again and stay out of your way.”
I’m too stunned to speak.
He’s leaving? He’s walking away?
He’s giving me Sanctus?
“Unless there’s a reason I shouldn’t?” Gideon’s cobalt eyes search mine for a sign that he’s got this wrong, for a last shred of hope for what we once had.
