"This isn't over," he says.
"No," I agree. "It's just beginning."
We clash again, ancient vampire against ancient vampire, centuries of history and hatred compressed into every strike. The parking structure shakes with our impacts. Concrete cracks. Metal groans.
And through it all, I hear Celeste fighting. Hear the sounds of combat from the other side of the structure. Hear her grunts of effort and Valentina's increasingly desperate snarls.
Two battles raging simultaneously. Two outcomes hanging in the balance.
I don't know how this ends.
But I know one thing with absolute certainty: we're both fighting for our lives tonight.
And only one side is going to walk away.
Chapter
Thirty-One
Valentina's fist catches me in the jaw, snapping my head back.
I roll with the impact, using the momentum to create distance. Blood fills my mouth, my own. I spit it onto the concrete and circle, keeping my maker in my line of sight.
She's smiling. Of course she's smiling. That same cat-with-cream smile she wore the night she turned me, the night she ruined my life and walked away laughing.
"You should have stayed quiet," she says, advancing slowly. "Played the obedient prisoner. Konstantin would have treated you well, you know. He has plans for you."
"I don't care about his plans."
"No. You care abouthim."
She tilts her head toward where Maximus and Konstantin are fighting, the sounds of their combat echoing through the parking structure. I hear the crash of bodies against concrete, the grunt of impact, the unmistakable rhythm of two predators trying to destroy each other.
Every instinct screams at me to look. To find Maximus, make sure he's still standing, still fighting. But I can't take my eyes off Valentina. Not for a second.
"It's pathetic, really," she continues. "Eight months as a vampire and you've already made the oldest mistake in the book. Falling for someone who can't save you."
I don't respond. I'm watching her feet, her hips, the subtle shifts in her weight that telegraph her next move. Eight months isn't long for a vampire, but it's long enough to learn how to read an opponent. And I was reading opponents for three years before she ever sank her fangs into me.
A particularly loud crash echoes from across the structure. Maximus's voice, raised in fury. My chest tightens.
Valentina lunges, exploiting my distraction.
I sidestep, barely, and rake my nails across her arm as she passes. The wounds are shallow, already healing, but she hisses in annoyance.
"Lucky," she spits.
"Trained."
"And distracted." Her eyes gleam. "He's got you so twisted up you can't even focus on the enemy in front of you. That's exactly what Konstantin wanted, you know. A weakness. A blind spot. Something to make the great Maximus vulnerable."
I force myself to center. To push Maximus to the edge of my awareness, present but not consuming. I can hear him fighting. That has to be enough. If I let myself worry about him, Valentina will kill me. And if I die, I can't help him at all.
"Why me?" The question comes out before I can stop it. "Why go to all this trouble for one fledgling?"
Valentina circles me, predator assessing prey. "Because you were perfect. Konstantin has been searching for decades forsomeone with the right combination of strength, stubbornness, and fire. Someone who could survive what he needed to do."
"Which was?"
