“No.”
“I’ve left you everything I own. Homes, assets, etc. You’ll have enough to be set for many lifetimes.”
I wrinkle my forehead. “When did you…”
“It’s not important,” he interrupts. “Violet, I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too,” I answer, wiping stray tears from my eyes. Dammit, why do vampires cry? I’m supposed to be a killing machine, not a bag of emotions.
Cyrus lifts his hand from mine, placing it around the wood sticking through his chest. “I’ve never told anyone this before and meant it.” He blinks heavily. “I love you, Violet Du Four.”
He loves me? “I love you, too,” I answer without regret.
“Until we meet again, my love. It’s time for me to go.” Bright blue eyes close as he forces the wood into his chest an inch more, piercing his heart. The light fades from his body, and his energy is instantly gone.
“Cyrus?” I whisper. “Cyrus!”
“He’s gone,” Simon says. “I can feel it.”
Without warning, the body of the vampire who just professed to love me begins to disappear. First his arms and legs, then his torso, and finally his head. Where the man lay moments earlier is now nothing more than a pile of dust.
I’m frozen in place…an emotional time bomb. A large hand squeezes my shoulder. “Come on, love. He’s gone.”
“I’m not leaving him,” I say through tears.
“What’s left is not Cyrus.” Erick wraps one arm under my knees and one under my torso, lifting me from the floor of the attic. I’m too weak to fight as he carries me from the convent and into the familiar streets of New Orleans.
……
The Home of Harrison Chamberlin
2023
“Why’d you bring her here?” I ask my maker. “Is this another attempt at finding Penelope? She’s dead, you know.”
Harrison glares at me. “Mind your own business, and do as you’re told.”
I sigh, not sure the girl in the library is going to be overly excited when she discovers her entire life hasbeen planned and orchestrated by Harrison Chamberlin, the asshole. “What do you want me to do?”
“Comfort her. She’s a little…anxious.”
“You think?”
“She’s quiet. That means she’s either accepted that this is real, or she’s gone insane. Check on her,” Harrison barks an order.
“Fuck you,” I whisper loud enough for him to hear.
“Many have tried,” he says with a scoff. “Only a few have succeeded.”
“Whatever. You’re a man ho.” I step toward the library door. “I’m not exactly the comforting type,” I remind him.
“I have faith in you.”
I hear the woman before I’m close to the wooden door. I take an unnecessary breath and turn the doorknob. The sound of something heavy being picked up makes me laugh. I open the door, prepared to do battle with a human wielding something made from brass. “Hello?” I call into the room. “Are you in here?” I roll my eyes at the dumb question. “Of course you’re in here. Where else would you go?” I giggle at the silliness of my words.
“Who are you?” she asks, setting a heavy candlestick down. I stare at the woman in front of me. She can’t be over five feet tall, and her bright red hair is sticking out all over. I gasp at her appearance. I’ve walked by the portrait of Penelope Luquire for a century. Staring at the woman Harrison brought homelast night is like looking at a ghost. She is the exact replica of the woman he’s sought for more years than I can count…Penelope.
“Violet Du Four,” I answer, fighting to keep the shock from my tone. I hold my hand toward her, performing a very human act. She ignores the offer, and I pull back, hoping to find a way to comfort her another way. “Harrison told me you might be a little upset.” She looks at the candlestick. “Why don’t you let me have this?” I ask, taking it from its resting spot.
