Her laugh is low and twisted. "She thoughtyouwould kill her after what she did."
A pause, then she tilts her head. "Oh, but how pleasant it was to watch her die in my hands. To see her eyes fade. And her blood—mmm,delicious."
I step closer, my power barely contained. "You are walking a thin line, nymph." The words come from something older than my voice.
Her gaze sharpens, cold and defiant. "Is that a threat?"
I let the power answer.
The light rises, deep green and blinding, flooding the room with a living radiance. She flinches first, then winces, closing her eyes against it. I reach out, fingers brushing her cheek, searching for what once bound us—the sacred tether between nymph and satyr.
But nothing stirs.
I press harder, forcing the light to meet her darkness, my true form flickering into this plane. Horns, roots, life itself drawn raw from the soil.
She grunts in pain, recoiling like a cornered animal.
I stop.
There's no reaching her. Only my light devouring her shadow.
"My duty," I say, stepping back, "is to destroy what you've become."
She opens her eyes, squinting against the afterglow, the first real expression I've seen from her. "Then why don't you?"
"Because I love you," I answer simply. "And I won't let you vanish into this abyss without a fight."
I turn to leave before reason falters.
Her voice follows, softer but cutting. "And what if you can't? What if this is who I am now?"
I don't answer. Because that is the question that terrifies me most.
When I close the basement door, the two vampires are waiting, along with what's left of their team.
Kayden raises an eyebrow. "Well, that was quick. Either you turned her back, or she ripped out your heart and had herself a snack. Judging by that face, I'd say the latter."
I narrow my eyes, refusing the bait. "Something like that."
I expect more mockery, but instead Kayden pours a glass of scotch and offers it. I take it with a nod and drink it down.
"Who's volunteering to be next?" I ask, the question heavy in the silence that follows.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Asher
After Darius asks his question, Kayden tilts his head toward me.
"I think it's Saint Asher's turn," he says. "Show us what you've got, brother."
I narrow my eyes. He's been avoiding seeing Sage. But I don't comment.
"I'll go next," I agree. "Try to reach her. But my approach takes time and some willingness on her side. It works best when she's exhausted. When the thirst sets in."
A thirsty vampire is desperate. Desperation becomes a crack in the armor. And through that crack, empathy can seep back in.
"I remember I was starving by the time you reached me," Donna says quietly. Her eyes darken at the memory.
