Ha! The Thirst. An urban legend, believed only by stupid children like yourself."
"It's real! And if you refuse to act against it, I will be forced to act in your stead."
"You may have tricked Dawn into thinking you're something you're not." Valentine's anger flares in his eyes, his fangs slowly extending. "But I've known you for four hundred years. And someday soon, she'll see what you truly are. They always do." You're casting around smoke and mirrors, Father, to distract us from the real issue," Victor says. "It is time for you to step down as head of the family."
"Never. Not as long as I draw breath. This is my empire! Forged by my hands. You have no idea what it takes to rule, what I have already set in motion."
"I know you're using my brother to do it."
Valentine chuckles. "I always thought him an aberration, but he is what you are not. Loyal. And he possesses a beautiful evil. More cunning than you could ever hope to be."
I hear the pride in his voice, and it sends a shiver through me. Is that the family trait Valentine would be most proud of passing down the line? Wickedness?
"Destroy me and you will unleash him," Valentine says. "And then it will be as if you released hell itself."
Victor removes a stake from his belt. It's long and metal, perfectly suited for a single, deadly strike to the heart. "You've left me with no choice. "Make one move and I'll bring an end to your precious Dawn's life," Valentine says, with a finality that stills any movement in the room. Now I see why I'm here. A poker chip. Leverage. Valentine's last hope. "I can snap her neck before you reach me."
"I'll put a stake in your heart before you get to her," Victor says.
"You underestimate me, child. I may be old, but with age comes power."
"She doesn't mean anything to me," Victor says.
I ignore the sting of his words and concentrate instead on his purpose in saying them. He's trying to remove me from harm's way, trying to convince Valentine that I'm useless as a poker chip.
The ancient vampire merely laughs. "Nothing? Nothing at all? Then you won't mind when your brother turns her into what she was always meant to be."
"She's just a human."
"You're wrong. She is so much more."
"She's just a vessel for blood...."
Valentine backhands me across my face. The force sends the world black for a moment, and I fall to the floor as his laugh reverberates through the chamber.
I try to stand up, but the strength of the blow has made me dizzy. Still, I'm able to see Victor's reaction. I've never seen so much hatred on anyone's face. All of it is focused on his father. That's right," Valentine says. "Give freedom to your rage. If we're going to fight, I want it to mean more than who takes the throne. I want to know that I raised a son who's willing to kill his father, just as I killed mine."
Valentine pulls a stake from behind his coat.
Richard withdraws his own and looks at Valentine's brothers. "Try to help, and I'll put this through your chest. Understood?"
Father and son are in place. The witness is accounted for. All the pieces are in play. The future of the city, of the Valentine family, of my life, will be decided in the coming seconds. But more, Victor's future will be decided, and in that moment I realize as never before that I want him to have a future. I don't want him to die. And not just because he's the better of the two. But because I care about him more than I realized—with every fiber of my being.
I don't know what happens next; the two Valentines move too fast for human eyes to catch. It's nothing but blurs and grunts, them stopping in frame for one second, only to continue on. The entire scene plays out as though lit by a strobe light, quick flashes of still life: Victor with his stake in hand; Valentine dodging it; Victor chasing; Valentine feinting.
I'm frozen in fear. It could end at any moment, with Victor falling to the floor, dead. Regrets slam into me. There is so much I never told him. How much I admire about him: the way he watches over the vampires in the city. The way he watched over me. How much I want the world he envisions: vampires and humans working together.
It's difficult to believe that a short while ago I would have celebrated his death. One fewer vampire in the world. Now I would grieve with the same fierceness that I mourned the loss of my parents and my brother.
I want to help Victor, but I know the best way to do that is to stay as still as possible, not to be a distraction. All his energy and focus have to be on defeating Valentine.
I glance over at the other vampires. They have no problem translating the rapid movements before them. Valentine's brothers are smiling, their eyes gleaming at the violence they're witnessing, even thriving on it.
But Richard is more concerned, studying every sharp movement. His eyes dart back and forth, following as his best friend fights for his life. I see a flash of Victor's blue suit, and I've never wanted anything more than for him to win.
Please. Please, Victor. I know you can do this.
Suddenly everything stills. Except for heavy breathing, silence descends. Everyone is held captive by the sight in front of us. On the floor, the monstrous Valentine huddles over his smaller son. Both as motionless as statues. Unable to breathe. Unable to move.
Then Valentine's body slumps over and falls to the floor. Victor's stake is buried deeply in his father's chest. The Bloody Valentine's heart beats no more. That tiny spot of darkness in the world seems to have been made bright for now.
I see Victor's chest rise and fall with the rhythm of his breaths, deep and full. I want to hold him, but I'm scared that he has too much anger still, too much ferocity. He needs a moment's pause. Slowly he brings himself to his feet, standing tall.
I can see the determination in his eyes. I was right. This isn't over.
"After my uncles have seen to Father, take them to the dungeon," he says in a forceful voice that leaves no room for argument.
"You can't—" one begins, but he cuts him off.
"You are either with me or with my father. Both paths have consequences. The funeral will be at dawn. At that time you can give me your answer."
His uncles struggle to carry the behemoth that was Valentine, as Richard and Faith escort them from the room. I'm glad. I'm glad that it's finally just Victor and me.
"Victor," I say.
A moment passes before he turns toward me. There aren't tears in his eyes, but an infinite sadness that is even deeper.
I can't stand the distance any longer. I cross over to him, reach up, cradle his face, and tilt his head toward me so he looks me in the eyes. He needs to see me. He needs to know that I'm here for him. What he did … it doesn't change what he is. But it has changed what I feel for him. From the moment we met, he's tried to show me that he's not a monster. Tonight he proved it. He didn't want to kill his father. He was forced into the confrontation. I could have lost him and he'd never have known that I'd fallen for him. Hard. My feelings snuck up on me, one kindness, and one revelation at a time. The vampires took everything from me, but I'm looking into the eyes of one who has the power to give me back a reason to live, who can heal my gaping hole of sorrow.
I don't know how to put any of that into words. So I just wrap my arms around him, welcome his arms coming around me. Then he pulls me in tighter, and I end up being the one to shed tears.
"I thought I was going to lose you," I whisper. "Victor, I was so scared that I was going to lose you."
"You'll never lose me, Dawn. Since I met you, for the first time in my life, I truly understand what I'm fighting for. You are every sunrise that I will never see."
He lifts my chin and lowers his mouth to mine. The kiss is so gentle, made sweeter by the knowledge that we've both survived. That we're on the cusp of a change. My heart swells with emotions I don't quite understand. They're almost frightening in their intensity. For the first time, I don't think of Victor as a vampire, but simply as someone I love. Our tongues dance together and I press myself nearer, wondering if I'll ever be able to get as close to him as I want, as I need.
For this one moment, he is all that matters.
I feel something warm and wet seeping through my sweater, just below where my heart is thudding. Pulling back, I glance down. Victor's blue shirt is glistening, soaked in blood.
"Victor, you're hurt."
His hold on me weakens and he stumbles back a step. "My father was right. I underestimated him."
"What do you need? Tell me and I'll do it."
"I need to rest, that's all. Help me to my bedroom; it isn't far."
But his wound is worse than he let on, and it quickly drains his strength. We struggle laboriously to climb a flight of stairs. When we reach the top, he groans as though the last step was almost too much. With me holding him up, he staggers to a large wooden door. I turn the knob and shove the door open with enough force to cause it to slam against the wall. His bedroom. The only thing I notice is how dark it is. I make out the large four-poster bed and help him stretch out on it.
"Don't die on me," I urge. "I think I'm finally glad you're in my life."
"It's not as bad as it looks."
I turn on the gas lamp next to the bed, giving me a better view of how the wound's progressed. The blood seeps from the open gash. I rip off a section of the sheet and press it against his side. "You're in agony. You need blood, Victor."
And the only blood here is mine.
"I'll be fine, Dawn. I just need to rest."
I sit on the edge of the bed. "What can I do?"
"You've already done it. Just by staying with me. Tonight you've seen vampires for what we are: violent, bloodthirsty creatures of the night. I killed my own father, just as he killed his. Bloody hands run through our family. No matter what I do, they'll never be clean."
"You're not like him."
"You once assured me I was. What if you're right?"
"I wasn't. Not then. I am now. You're not like him. I saw that tonight." I shake my head. "No, I knew it long before tonight. What I feel for you … it's almost frightening."
"My father made a mistake in bringing you here tonight. He thought your presence would distract me, but it made me realize I would gladly sacrifice my immortality for you." He touches my cheek and then skims his fingers along my throat. "You will be in my life such a short time, but it will be worth it."
"Lounging around already, brother?" Faith asks.
I jump back as though I were caught doing something wrong.
Faith glides over to the bed, Richard at her side.
"He's been hurt," I say, stunned by how uncaring she acts.
Faith glances at the wound in Victor's side. "Nothing a little blood won't cure," she says, and her eyes move toward me. Her fangs come out just a little as she laughs softly. Then she inhales deeply, and her eyes grow hungry. "A-negative. It goes so well with steak."
"Faith," Victor warns.
"You're right. O-negative is better. It goes with anything."
"Enough." Victor's tone is firm, and I realize he has stepped fully into Valentine's shoes. He is the new lord and ruler. "Are our uncles settled?" Richard leans against one of the bedposts. "Coffins nailed shut."
My eyes widen in disbelief.
"He's trying to be witty," Faith explains, rolling her eyes.
"You like my wit," Richard says.
"Not really." She spins on her heel and heads for the door. "Come on, Dawn. Let's see if we can find you something to wear."
"Why?" I ask.
"Not very observant, are you?"
I follow her gaze to the blood on my sweater. I look back at Victor one more time to make sure he's okay.
"Go with her," he urges. "I need to talk with Richard. After you've changed, Faith will show you to a bedroom so you can get some sleep. I know it's been a very trying night for everyone."
"All right."
Outside the room, Faith gives me the once-over. I know what she sees. I'm shorter than she is, not as voluptuous. "Probably a skirt with a stretchy waist would be best," she says.
Not to mention stretchy hips. And a top whose limits wouldn't be tested as much as they are when she wears it.
She leads me down the hallway to a bedroom that is seduction painted on four walls. Red in every shade imaginable fills the entire place. She crosses over to a double set of doors and flings them open dramatically to reveal a walk-in closet that's larger than my bedroom.
"Oh my God." I stare in amazement.
"I know, it's pathetic. My big closet is in Europe," she says as she wanders inside, touching silks, satins, cottons. "I admit, clothes are my sin, and I've had quite a few years to collect them."
"How many, exactly?"
She grabs a hanger. "Hmm. Nearly two hundred." She tosses a silky flowing skirt my way. "That should work."
Before it hits the floor I snatch it and run my hands over it. The material is incredibly soft, satin against my fingers.
She collects a couple of tops and a few other things. "Come on."
I follow her into a marble bathroom, where the red motif continues. Even the marble is red.
"Vampire blood is hell to get out. Just throw your clothes in the corner and I'll burn them."
She leaves me alone. I'm surprised to discover running water that's actually warm. Maybe they have a few modern conveniences. I remove my clothes and toss them into the corner. I'm okay with her burning them. I could never wear them again without thinking of tonight. It's a memory I'm anxious to have fade.
After I quickly wash up, I sort through the items she brought in. I find a pair of red silk panties. Not what I usually wear, but I suspect Faith doesn't own anything else. I slip them on, not wanting to admit how sexy they make me feel. I kinda hate to cover them with the skirt. But I do. Then I pull a red top over my head. It's sexy, too, draping off one shoulder, creating a flattering frame for my tattoo