“It was the only thing of value I had when it came time to talk Josep into accompanying me across the ocean. I mean, I had the lie, of course. ‘We’re gonna steal the Darkness, Josep. We’re gonna take its power and make it ours.’” I chuckle again. “The American Vampires.”
“That was a lie?”
“No, you idiot. It was the truth, of course. You can’t lie to the Darkness. Not when it’s inside you. And all vampires have the Darkness inside us, even me.”
“I’m not following.”
“Of course not. You’re, what, a hundred and twenty-eight years old? You don’t even have wings, Tristin. How could you know anything?”
“Ya know, for a guy who only got this far because of me, you’re sure being a dick about it. It’s not my fault I don’t know what you’re doing.”
“Sorry,” I say, rolling my neck until it cracks. “I do appreciate your help and I didn’t mean to be so blunt.” I rock the vial between my fingers again. “This is the only way to complete the final step of my mission. The fact that I had to give it away in the first place is just… well, divine irony, I suppose. A way to build character, perhaps.”
“So you’re gonna poison Josep with that?”
I shake my head, frowning. “No, Tristin. I’m going to poisonmyself.” And then I pop the cork on the vial with my thumb and tip all the Black blood into my mouth.
“Wait!” Tristin comes over to me, trying to grab the bottle out of my hand. I let him do this, because it’s too late. It’s empty, save for a thick coating on the sides of the glass. “What are you doing, Paul? Why did you just drink that?”
“Because”—I smile at him now—“it’s the only way.”
Tristin is panicking now, probably imagining how he’ll get out of this mess if I’m not around to save his ass. “The way to what?”
“To give all my Darkness to Ryet. Because, you see, when a maker dies, his protégé inherits all his power by default. And in this case, that would be Ryet. He’s the real hero of this story, not me. I’m certainly not going to be stuck here on Earth acting out the role of the fucking Antichrist for the next seven years. That’s ridiculous. Regardless of how many corners I’ve cut, my mission ends tonight and that means I have an appointment with my own Maker and I’m gonna get the last word here no matter what.”
Tristin is shaking his head. “This is about…spite?”
I shrug. “Call it spite, call it revenge, call it petty, if you like. This is what two thousand years of character-building has turned me into. A petty monster. It is what it is.”
Across the room, the scions begin to wake, moaning a little as they struggle to open their eyes and get to their feet.
I throw up my hands and grow bigger, my skin turning blue-black, my wings popping out of my back, my clothing ripping into shreds as I become the demon I was always meant to be. “Rise, scions!” I bellow.
They look up at me, still half-drunk off the blood, but struggling or not, they all get to their feet with a great expectation.
“It is time to end this now.” I turn to Tristin and make a little bow. “You will stay here. You’ll be safe. Thank you. I sincerely mean that, Tristin. If any of this gets into a history book, I hope they turn you into the unsung hero you are.”
“But… what? Wait!”
But I’m already slipping into the floor. I’m already on the highway to Hell.
And all my scions follow me down into the earth.
