“No, mon coeur.” He couldn’t allow her hopes to rise. “The more we understand the blood-rage gene and learn about the noncoding genes, the better the treatment might become, but this is not a disease we can cure. Our only hope is to prevent it and, God willing, lessen its symptoms.”
“Until you do, you can teach Jack how to control it.” Diana’s face remained set in stubborn lines. “There’s no need to kill him.”
“Jack’s symptoms are far worse than mine. The genetic factors that appear to trigger the disease are present at much higher levels in him.” Matthew blinked back the blood tears that he could feel forming. “He won’t suffer. I promise you.”
“But you will. You say I pay a price for dealing with matters of life and death? So do you. Jack will be gone, but you will live on, hating yourself,” Diana said. “Think of what Philippe’s death has cost you.”
Matthew could think of little else. He had killed other creatures since his father’s death, but only to settle his own scores. Until tonight the last de Clermont sire to command him to kill had been Philippe. And the death Philippe had ordered was his own.
“Jack is suffering, Diana. This would mean an end to it.” Matthew used the same words Philippe had to convince his wife to admit the inevitable.
“For him maybe. Not for us.” Diana’s hand strayed to the round swell of her belly. “The twins could have blood rage. Will you kill them, too?”
She waited for him to deny it, to tell her that she was insane to even think of such a thing. But he didn’t.
“When the Congregation discovers what Jack has done—and it’s only a matter of time before they do—they will kill him. And they won’t care how frightened he is or how much pain they cause. Baldwin will try to kill Jack before it comes to that, to keep the Congregation out of the family business. If he tries to run, Jack could fall into Benjamin’s hands. If he does, Benjamin will exact a terrible revenge for Jack’s betrayal. Death would be a blessing then.” Matthew’s face and voice were impassive, but the agony that flashed through Diana’s eyes would haunt him forever.
“Then Jack will disappear. He’ll go far away, where nobody can find him.”
Matthew smothered his impatience. He’d known that Diana was stubborn when he first met her. It was one of the reasons he loved her—even though at times it drove him to distraction. “A lone vampire cannot survive. Like wolves, we have to be part of a pack or we go mad. Think of Benjamin, Diana, and what happened when I abandoned him.”
“We’ll go with him,” she said, grasping at straws in her efforts to save Jack.
“That would only make it easier for Benjamin or the Congregation to hunt him down.”
“Then you must establish a scion immediately, as Marcus suggested,” Diana said. “Jack will have a whole family to protect him.”
“If I do, I’ll have to acknowledge Benjamin. That would expose not only Jack’s blood rage but my own. It would put Ysabeau and Marcus in terrible danger—the twins, too. And it’s not just them who will suffer if we stand against the Congregation without Baldwin’s support.” Matthew drew a ragged breath. “If you’re at my side—my consort—the Congregation will demand your submission as well as mine.”
“Submission?” Diana said faintly.
“This is war, Diana. That’s what happens to women who fight. You heard my mother’s tale. Do you think your fate would be any different at the vampires’ hands?”
She shook her head.
“You must believe me: We are far better off remaining in Baldwin’s family than striking out on our own,” he insisted.
“You’re wrong. The twins and I will never be entirely safe under Baldwin’s rule. Neither will Jack. Standing our ground is the only possible way forward. Every other road just leads back into the past,” Diana said. “And we know from experience that the past is never more than a temporary reprieve.”
“You don’t understand the forces that would gather against us if I do this. Everything my children and grandchildren have done or will ever do is laid at my doorstep under vampire law. The vampire murders? I committed them. Benjamin’s evil deeds? I am guilty of them.” Matthew had to make Diana see what this decision might cost.
“They can’t blame you for what Benjamin and Jack did,” Diana protested.
“But they can.” Matthew cradled her hands between his. “I made Benjamin. If I hadn’t, none of these crimes would have taken place. It was my job, as Benjamin’s sire and Jack’s grandsire, to curb them if possible or to kill them if not.”
“That’s barbaric.” Diana tugged at her hands. He could feel the power burning under her skin.
“No, that’s vampire honor. Vampires can survive among warmbloods because of three systems of belief: law, honor, and justice. You saw vampire justice at work tonight,” Matthew said. “It’s swift—and brutal. If I stand as sire of my own scion, I’ll have to mete it out, too.”
“Rather you than Baldwin,” Diana retorted. “If he’s in charge, I’ll always wonder if this is the day he will grow tired of protecting me and the twins and order our deaths.”
His wife had a point. But it put Matthew in an impossible situation. To save Jack, Matthew would have to disobey Baldwin. If he disobeyed Baldwin, he would have no choice but to become the sire of his own scion. That would require convincing a pack of rebellious vampires to accept his leadership and risk their own extermination by exposing the blood rage in their ranks. It would be a bloody, violent, and complicated process.
“Please, Matthew,” Diana whispered. “I beg you: Do not follow Baldwin’s order.”
Matthew examined his wife’s face. He took into account the pain and desperation he saw in her eyes. It was impossible to say no.
“Very well,” Matthew replied reluctantly. “I’ll go to New Orleans—on one condition.”
Diana’s relief was evident. “Anything. Name it.”
“You don’t come with me.” Matthew kept his voice even, though the mere mention of being away from his mate was enough to send the blood rage surging through his veins.
“Don’t you dare order me to stay here!” Diana said, her own anger flaring.
“You can’t be anywhere near me while I do this.” Centuries of practice made it possible for Matthew to keep his own feelings in check, in spite of his wife’s agitation. “I don’t want to go anywhere without you. Christ, I can barely let you out of my sight. But having you in New Orleans while I battle my own grandchildren would put you in terrible danger. And it wouldn’t be Baldwin or the Congregation who would be putting your safety at risk. It would be me.”