She took a deep breath, and it felt as if her lungs might stop all on their own.
Christian strolled in, wearing all black in true Vampire form. He placed a knitted throw over her feet and dipped into the shadows. As the wood in the fireplace snapped and hissed, she stared up at the ceiling, trying to recall her sons’ faces. Remembering moments helped, but she had forgotten the sound of their voices.
“How is she?” Wyatt asked.
Blue glanced up at Wyatt, who was standing behind Viktor’s leather chair.
“She is strong,” Viktor answered. “There is hope. She made it through a gruesome attack that no one else would have survived. Blue is a warrior.”
Blue blinked up at the impossibly tall ceiling. “I want to see my family.”
Wyatt swaggered into view, that floppy hat barely hanging on, his Pac-Man shirt tucked halfway into his jeans. “Maybe we should call them.”
“They’re dead,” she replied.
He put his hands on his hips. “It doesn’t work that way when we die. The afterlife isn’t a family reunion.”
“You said you didn’t know where they go.”
“That’s true. But would you really want to sit in limbo with estranged family members you barely tolerated? No thanks. I have a feeling they go somewhere else, but that’s not for the living to know.”
Tears stung her eyes at the idea she would never reunite with her sons, not even for a moment. Could the fates be so cruel?
“Shut your gob,” Christian barked. “Can’t you see you’re upsetting the lass?”
Shepherd jogged into the room, out of breath. “Gem can’t find anything. She’s still looking through a pile of books she separated from the rest.”
Viktor turned. “And you called Raven?”
“She got the fucker, but he doesn’t have an antidote. He tried to kill himself.”
“Didn’t try hard enough,” Christian added.
Blue had never imagined her death being such a burden on others. It made her want to go outside in the courtyard and die alone like an animal. Viktor left the room, and she stared into the fire for a long while, watching the flames take hold and grow larger. The flickering light became a reel that played out her life, and she reminisced over all the good parts.
When the light went dark, she realized Niko had knelt in front of her. He said nothing, only looked down at her fading light and held her hand.
“You were a good partner,” she said to him.
He stroked the top of her hand. “You never treated me differently. You and I are a good match. I just wish I had been there. I might have been able to read his light—see his intentions.”
“What’s done is done.”
“I can’t find anything,” Gem complained, entering the room and looking around. “Nothing that makes sense.” She rushed up to the sofa and threw her arms around Blue, sobbing against her chest. “I’m so sorry. I looked and looked, but I couldn’t find anything. I just don’t have any books on poisons. I really tried.”
Blue patted Gem on the back and then touched Niko’s arm. “Please, take her. She doesn’t need to be here.”
In truth, Blue didn’t want to hear any wailing or crying. She didn’t want anything tethering her to this world, and hearing someone’s heartache made her spirit feel heavier.
Niko hooked his arm around Gem and led her away. Blue took another deep breath, turning on her side as Viktor returned with a guitar in his hand. He dragged a short table in front of her, took a seat, and popped the guitar on his lap.
“But I thought you played violin?” she whispered, knowing it was something he did privately—secretly.
“I come from a musical family.” He swung his gaze up for a moment before choosing a slow melody.
As he picked out the notes like a beautiful bouquet, she recognized the tune. She might have expected some old Russian song that was morose, but instead, Viktor played a slow version of “California Dreaming.” She smiled and watched as his fingers slid up and down the neck, pressing the strings and changing position. The song was timeless—haunting and reflective. Had anyone else been serenaded so beautifully by death?
Halfway through the song, Blue should have felt herself slipping away. It would have been a perfect moment. But instead, she shot up and clutched her chest. Her heart was beating out of sync and squeezing tightly. The music abruptly stopped.
Shepherd knelt. “Are you feeling worse?”
Grimacing, she nodded. Her long hair curtained her face as her chin touched her chest.
“What can you do?” Viktor hissed.
Shepherd sighed. “Nothing. All I can do is give her something for the pain. My magic won’t take it all away. I don’t know what’s working through her, and even if I did, we can’t reverse it.”
“That’s not entirely true,” Christian said from the fireplace. “There’s one other option. I’ve done it before, but I can’t make any promises.” He looked over his shoulder and gave her a dark stare. “Vampire blood can flush out the poison.”
Blue shook her head. She didn’t want Vampire magic running through her, dark magic she didn’t understand. It might change her, or worse, change her animal.
“I can get an IV bag,” Shepherd suggested.
Christian turned on his heel. “Over my rotting corpse. Aside from the offensive nature of drawing blood through a catheter, there’s no guarantee it’ll work that way. She’ll have to ingest it, and better if it’s fresh from the vein. Vampire blood loses potency in a glass.” He centered his gaze on her. “But she’ll have to decide on her own if she wants to live or die. That’s not for us to choose.”
“I don’t want Vampire blood,” she snapped back. “I don’t want to be a Vampire.”
“You won’t become a Vampire, lass. Of that I can assure you. There’s more involved in making a Vampire than drinking blood. That’s a fable for books and movies. This isn’t something I offer everyone, you know. You might have your opinions about our blood, but it’s sacred. It’s a privilege to receive the offer.”
Viktor set down his guitar and sat next to her. “You must.”
“I can’t.”
Viktor cradled her neck in his hands. “I understand how you feel—Vampire blood is not natural. But I will ask this one thing of you because I cannot let you go.” He leaned in close to her ear, his voice just above a whisper. “What will I do without my Blue? Ya lyublyu tebya.”
“I don’t understand you.” She pulled back to look him in the eyes, but he only looked away. The bend in his voice tugged at her heart. If she refused, would Viktor always see her as someone who gave up? Who failed him? She had a chance at seeing her sons again. Maybe not, but it was a slim chance. Blue felt like a pendulum swinging between here and there, somewhere and nowhere, darkness and light. She’d fought to live during the lion attack, despite the inevitable scarring. This was one fight she couldn’t win on her own. If there was any time she could slip out of this painful world, this was it.
“You’ve captured so many bad men,” Viktor went on. “And those children would not be here without you.”