“I’m not leaving you.” She grabbed his shirt again. “Bite me. Drink. You’ll get your power back.”

His eyes opened, shining silver. “And kill you, too? No.”

“You’re chained up. I’ll get away before you drink too much. Besides, I don’t die anymore, remember?” She forced away the tears burning her eyes. “Mal, you can’t leave me like this. Not now.”

“Better one of us than both.” He turned his face away from her. “I won’t do it.”

She grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at her. “If you die, who will protect me from Tatiana?” It was a weak chance, but she prayed dropping his ex-wife’s name would fire him up.

His face shifted, his fangs suddenly visible. “I guess the mayor’s going to get her show after all.” He shook his head. “Whatever happens, I love you. I want you to know that.”

She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him hard. “Then stick around so you can remind me.” She bent her head to the side. “Do it,” she whispered.

He nodded and kissed her neck. Then he struck, fast and deep.

She gasped as he pierced her, the sharp sting long unfelt but still familiar, although she’d never been taken by the throat. Arching into him, she wrapped her arms around his outstretched ones as he drank. His body came to life against hers, warming and expanding with each swallow. Her own body responded in kind, her heart beating in time with his, the freshening of her own power like an intense prickling on her skin. Tears flowed down her face, born of anger and helplessness, but also of joy.

Being bitten was the culmination of a comarré’s reason for being. It was their purpose and their reward. But she’d never loved Algernon, and being pierced by Mal was more than a bite. It was a bonding. If he died, so would she. Maybe not physically, but she felt in her soul the need for him like never before.

The thick chains holding him groaned. Tiny fissures split the surface of one massive link.

Darkness invaded her senses and she knew it was time. He’d had enough. She released him and worked her hands up to his jaw. “No more,” she whispered, putting pressure on him. He nodded, but his fangs stayed in her. She pushed gently at his chest. With him chained and unable to hold on to her, they were separated a moment later.

He panted, openmouthed. Tendrils of black danced above the band of his T-shirt but disappeared as he shook his head, struggling but somehow controlling the beast.

She took a step back. “How do you feel?”

“Whole,” he mouthed. He swallowed and cleared his throat. “Whole,” he said again.

“So do I,” she said. The camera lights switched off suddenly and in the brief moment it took for her eyes to adjust, she thought maybe she’d been wrong about the sunrise. But she hadn’t. The sky was bright enough the lights weren’t needed anymore. She turned east. The horizon burned white-orange. Fear punched her in the gut.

“Jerem, bring the car,” she yelled, knowing the shifter would hear her. Then she spun back around. “Mal, scatter now. You’ve got to—”

The sun broke the horizon, sending rays of light racing forward.

“I’m trying,” he answered. His face contorted in a mask of concentration, eyes closed, body tense.

On the other side of the square, her black sedan jumped the curb and barreled toward them. The look on Jerem’s face said he understood exactly what was happening.

She fell to her knees. “Holy mother, please don’t let Mal die.” The sun kissed his boots, snaking up his legs. Wisps of smoke rose from his body. “No,” she begged the sun, but nothing would stop it now. She reached for his hand. “Mal, please, try harder.”

Harsh rays swallowed his lower half. The sedan screeched to a stop inches away. The sun glared off the car in bright flashes as it breached the horizon and enveloped Mal in its light.

With a last guttural cry, he disintegrated into smoke.

Chapter Twenty-Two

The groundwork had been laid and everyone was in their places. All that remained was to wait, something Tatiana had never been good at, but this time was different. This time as she sat in the dark nursery, listening to Lilith’s soft breathing, she found new patience. And oddly, a niggling of fear she’d never before experienced.

The fear wasn’t for herself but for Lilith. Tatiana was about to put her child in danger, and even if it was ultimately to protect her, that knowledge did not sit well with her. At least she knew Octavian and Daci were in on this plan with her. She felt confident they wouldn’t let harm befall Lilith. She’d even come to believe that Kosmina would protect her child for reasons beyond duty.

She tipped her head against the rocker’s back. By now Daci would be in place, poised to come running in from where she’d just been “passing by” to act as another witness. Octavian and the Dominus and Elders who’d not yet turned in were down the hall in the library. As soon as Octavian heard her call out, he’d come running as well, bringing their guests with him. Hopefully in time to see Svetla’s demise at the hands of the Castus.

The nursery door swung open slowly. Tatiana was positioned behind the screen where Oana, the wet nurse, sat to feed Lilith. She could see slivers through where the panels hinged. Svetla would be able to detect the presence of another vampire, but Tatiana hoped she’d attribute it to Lilith. Or perhaps the compulsion to obey would override any other concerns.

She’d soon find out.