22
Loss
S
injin rested his hand on Lucy’s heart. She was naked, and he wanted to rip apart the other men in the room, since every male except her brother was looking at her. Exploring her with appraising, lust-filled gazes. Sinjin moved his hand, pulled off his greatcoat, and draped it around her. Then he wrapped his arms around her, held her close, and slid his fingers under the lapel of his coat to check her heartbeat once more.
It proved strong and steady now. His blood had destroyed the poison inside her and had healed her wounds. The problem: she was now a vampire.
He didn’t know if a dragon could be turned into a vampire and survive. To save her from the poison used by slayers, had he sentenced her to certain death?
She would have died if he had not acted. But he had not told her what he intended to do—he had not told her that she could die if she drank his blood.
Hell.
He had been so afraid to lose her, he’d reacted without thought. Out of the corner of his eyes, Sinjin watched the vampire slayers, the prince, her brother, Jack, and the black dragon, the brother of her former fiancé. They were all shifting restlessly, waiting ... ready to attack if the bargain they were about to strike did not work.
He knew what they wanted. His prince wanted James, because James was growing up to be the most powerful dragon they had ever encountered. No dragon had been able to shift at so young an age. The prince would want to study James. He would want medical experiments carried out on James, the way some vampire slayers performed experiments on captured vampires. Sinjin suspected the damned prince wanted to see if he could acquire James’s ability to shift into dragon form. He knew the prince wanted to try to be both a vampire and a dragon at the same time—to find out if the combination would make him stronger.
Sinjin knew the prince had tried to combine vampiric powers with those of a shifter dragon before. He had tried it on other people that he referred to as “subjects.” It had never worked—every subject he had tried it on had died. The prince believed it was possible, believed it like a fanatic.
Sinjin didn’t know if it was possible, and it meant he had turned Lucy into a vampire without knowing the consequences. He did know from the prince’s experiments, that if a vampire tried to acquire dragon powers, the vampire died.
Damn. He had to pray it didn’t work the same way if a dragon became a vampire.
From the gleam in the eye of the black dragon, it was obvious he was determined to have Lucy—even if he had to kill everyone in the room to get her.
“Enough,” the prince growled. “Release her, or I’ll send so many crossbows into you, you’ll be fractured into pieces and her blood will spurt out of you like a fountain.”
Sinjin drew Lucy closer to him. He glanced around—half the weapons in the room shifted to point at him, and the rest remained trained on Jack and her former fiancé’s brother, Lionel Ferrars.
First he had to take care of the prince—and he knew Jack and Ferrars would not stop him from doing that. They would want him to take down their opponents, then they would get rid of him.
The prince moved over and stood, towering over Lucy. “Fascinating,” he growled. “She is still alive. She appears healthy, and she has the powers of both a vampire and a dragon inside her.”
His sire’s eyes glowed like silver discs, bright with a fanatical gleam.
Sinjin knew if he destroyed his sire, he would die. But he had to keep Lucy from becoming the pawn of his prince or of the black dragon. He had to protect her. Guidon had not been able to tell him how long he could survive after killing the prince. Would it be long enough to fight the black dragon and save Lucy? Or would his death be instantaneous?
In the heartbeat it took him to think it through, the prince reached for Lucy and tried to pull her from him. A crossbow string gave a sharp twang, and a bolt streaked for his head.
He kicked the prince and pulled Lucy away from the shot. The arrow slammed into the wall where he had just been standing.
He shook his arm lightly, letting the stake drop into his hand. He pushed Lucy back, hating having to treat her so roughly. The prince followed her with his gaze, ready to pounce, and Sinjin jumped forward. He heard the whistle of arrows past his head, and he slammed into the prince.
His prince looked down, saw the stake, and screamed, “You fool, you can’t kill me! You’ll destroy yourself.”
But he drove the sharpened piece of wood upward and punctured his maker’s heart.
The prince jerked back. His hands clawed at the stake, but it was in so deep, it stuck out through his back. He slumped to the ground. His body began to instantly decay—it was something Sinjin had never seen before. Right in front of their eyes, the prince’s body began to shrivel, then the skin turned gray, then collapsed into dust.
Sinjin stepped back. Was this going to happen to him?
The other slayers gaped in amazement and weapons suddenly lowered. He knew why. The king of their clan was dead, and now there was doubt as to whether he would be the new king. They were staring at him because he was still standing. He wasn’t dead. But he didn’t know whether that was temporary or not.
He whirled around and ran to Lucy. He had to fight the black dragon while he still had time, but he had one thing to do first.
He pressed Lucy against the wall and clamped his lips on hers for one precious instant. “I love you,” he said, then he turned to face the black dragon.
But it was her brother who stood in front of him, a stake in his hand.
Lucy screamed at her brother, “Jack, stop! No!”
He turned wild, desperate eyes to her. “I have no choice, Lucy. If I don’t do this, I’ll be killed. I have to do this to protect you.”
“Protect me? If you want to do that, help Sinjin! Put down that stake!”
But her brother hesitated, then tightened his grip on it and took another step toward Sinjin. He met her frightened, horrified gaze. She saw the agony in his expression. Was he going to die because he had killed his sire?
No—he couldn’t be dying. He looked too strong. Surely he would have died the instant he had driven the stake into the prince’s heart. He was going to survive—only if he attacked her brother. He snatched up one of the fallen swords.
She knew he had to kill Jack, but she couldn’t stand it. Jack had turned against them, but he had been forced to.
There must be a way for her to stop this.
Sinjin lifted his sword, poised to drive it through Jack’s heart. She winced, shutting her eyes for an instant, but she couldn’t stop her lids from lifting.
Sinjin turned his sword in his hand, so he held the hilt with the blade pointing down, the tip pressing into the floor.
He wasn’t going to attack Jack. He was going to spare her brother. Thankfulness welled in her, choking her, making her throat dry and tight.
But the next sound made her knees shake and her heart fall. It was a howl of pure fury. She jerked around to face her fallen brother.
Opening his muzzle wide, Jack let out another roar. He hauled his wounded dragon body up, and flew at Sinjin, his jaws wide, and pouring out flame, his claws extended. Heavens, Jack was going to take advantage and kill Sinjin.
“No! Jack, he spared you! Do not do this!” she shouted.
She expected to see Sinjin lift the sword again, but he didn’t. He stood his ground, holding the sword pointing to the floor, and watched Jack rush toward him. She was staring at Jack—then she saw a flash of movement in the corner of her eye.
Sinjin must have seen it, too. He jerked around. Just as Allan’s brother slammed a wooden stake into his heart.
Shock seemed to grip her like a force of magic. She couldn’t move. She stood helplessly, staring as Sinjin tried to clutch the stake, then fell over, sprawling on the ground.
It had gone several inches into the left side of his chest. It could not possibly have missed his heart.
Finally, the horror snapped—she forced her feet to propel her forward. But as she fell to her knees at Sinjin’s side, his eyes went blank. Before she could help him, save him, even tell him how much she loved him, he died.
23
Magic
A
s soon as the stake had driven into his heart, a red haze had formed in front of Sinjin’s eyes. Now the red glow was gone and he couldn’t see anything. The room was pitch-black around him. He had been able to see in the night for so long, he’d forgotten what it was like to feel blind.
Was he alive or dead? Hell, he would have thought it would be easy to tell.
Heat surrounded him. He heard the roar of flames. Something stank, like sulfur, like foul gas. Sinjin tried to shake his head, but he didn’t feel any movement. His body felt weightless, like he was floating in a hot, steamy, stinking void.
He remembered wrapping his fist around the stake in his heart, then trying to pull it free. Remembered that, like the one he had plunged into his sire’s heart, this one would not budge.
He had to be dead—and his soul, which was in some kind of dormant state when he was a vampire, was on a swift descent to hell, by the smells surrounding him.
He had lost James. He had lost his precious Lucy.
At least he had told her he loved her.
Hell.
At least.
What a pile of horse dung: It wasn’t enough. He wanted more. He wanted a lifetime to show Lucy he loved her.
He had thought it would be worth dying to see the prince die. He thought it would be worth it to know he had made James and Lucy safe. But they weren’t safe.
Was there a way he could cheat death? He wasn’t finished. He still had to ensure they were all right... .
Something was dragging him down into the void. A force he couldn’t resist. He was going to hell, he was sure of it. He’d surrendered his soul so long ago, he had killed so many creatures, where else would he be going?
Sinjin fought to hang on. He strained to hear Lucy’s voice. To smell the subtle fragrance of her skin. To see her and hang on to her and stay with her.
He fought, but he was losing—
He had saved her life by giving her his blood.
Tears streaked down Lucy’s cheeks. Scalding tears that blurred her vision and made it hard to breathe. She brushed at them fiercely, ridding her face of the signs of anguish. Dry-eyed, she looked up. Jack had taken James by the hand, and was holding the boy at his side. James strained at her brother’s grip but Jack yanked the boy back, snapping at him to behave.
She wanted to kill her brother.
Sinjin was dead because of her, because he had wanted to save her from the pain of losing a brother.
The man who looked like Allan Ferrars stalked forward, his bare feet coming to rest in her field of vision. She stared up, craning her neck, and flinched as he held his hand down for her.
“Don’t touch me,” she snarled. “Leave me. Go away. I will not go with you.”
“Yes, you will, you stupid woman. Push him off your lap and stand up.” He snarled at her, baring his teeth. Even though he was in human form, his teeth were long, curved, and sharp. “We are leaving.”
She wrapped her arms around Sinjin’s fallen body. Wishing that by hugging him, she could breathe life into him again. Fury made her body shake. In a low voice, fighting for control, she growled, “Who are you? You look like the man I despise most in the world and I want to know who you are!”
He gazed down, sneering with disdain. “My name is Lionel Ferrars. Your fiancé—murdered by your family—was my younger brother.”
“Younger brother? But he never even told me he had a brother.” Allan had lied even about his family to her. Why had he ever asked her to marry him? She didn’t understand. He hadn’t loved her. Or wanted her. Or even respected her enough to be honest about anything.
“Get up, you little whore. You belong to me now.”
His words struck like a slap. Then he did hit her—striking her across the face with the back of his hand.
She roared at him. The sound burst out of her instinctually. It came out with a dragon’s power and she felt a strange pain shoot through her upper jaw. She clapped her right hand to her mouth, but her teeth grew. They shot forward and stabbed her palm.
Fangs. She had fangs.
Sinjin’s blood ...
It was how people were transformed into vampires. They were taken to the point of death and then fed the blood of a vampire and they became one.
She was a vampire, which meant her blood had the power to transform a dying mortal. Dear heaven, what if she gave her blood to Sinjin? Would it save him? Would it turn a dying vampire back into a vampire? Was she too late?
Ferrars, the brute, hit her again. “Leave him,” he shouted. “Get off your arse, you stupid tart, and come with me.”
“I will never go with you.”
“I have only let you live so long because I need your power, you piece of whoring filth. Obey me. Or I’ll break your neck now.”
What was this madman speaking of? She kept her arms around Sinjin, and she willed one of her fingers to transform, so her fingernail grew and became a claw. Amazing. She hadn’t even known she could do such a thing. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw James, still held by her brother. The boy was white with fear and was shaking.
She felt different. Stronger. She felt utterly in control. Yet how could she? She was in the clutches of a vicious maniac of a dragon and she had lost the man she loved... .
She hadn’t lost. Not yet.
She would save Sinjin, then she would protect James.
Slicing her wrist, Lucy shifted her arm, so the wound in her flesh touched Sinjin’s mouth. The cut stung and blood flowed out. Sinjin was dead so of course he couldn’t drink. She feared she was too late. And she couldn’t let her wrist bleed out. She must survive to try to protect James.
Ferrars roared, “Stop it! Goddamn you, whore, stop feeding him your blood. Stop or I’ll kill you—”
He reached for her with both hands and she stiffened, expecting him to grab her head and try to snap her neck. She couldn’t move, for that would take her blood away from Sinjin.
Suddenly Ferrars howled in anguish. The curved blade of a dragon slayer’s sword was protruding from his chest, just below his heart.
His eyes, the same blue as Allan’s had been, bulged with sheer fury. Awkwardly, he stumbled around, blood pouring down his chest and back. It was covering his skin like an eerie, grotesque red veil. Her brother let go of the hilt of the sword, stepping back, and he grasped James by the shoulder and pushed the lad behind him. He was shielding James with his body.
Ferrars, amazingly, was still standing, despite being gored through his body. But the blade had missed his heart and a dragon had to be stabbed through the heart to be killed. The blackguard bent, letting out a roar of pain, and snatched up another sword. He slowly, menacingly approached her brother.
She looked around desperately for a sword. For something she could throw. She couldn’t move her wrist—
Her arm was pushed away from Sinjin’s mouth. Astonished, she gaped down at him. His eyes were blinking. They sparkled with ... with life. He grinned. “Enough, my love. I don’t need more.”
She tried to slide out from under him, as Ferrars glanced back at them. He wore a gloating smile. “The bloody dragon earl first. Then you, Greystone. It will be a pleasure to kill you.”
“Not as much pleasure as killing you,” Sinjin murmured. Then he jumped to his feet. He rushed at Ferrars, who jolted around and stabbed with the blade. But Sinjin vaulted over his head, turning over in the air. Her brother pushed James out of the way, to the corner of the room where it would be safe.
Lucy saw the glint of silver in Sinjin’s hand as he landed. She barely understood it for what it was—a dagger—before Sinjin plunged it into Ferrar’s chest, just above the penetrating sword.
Ferrars lurched. He swung wildly with the blade he held, but missed all of them. Then he fell to his knees and blood poured out of his mouth.
James screamed. He had been standing behind her brother, his face expressionless. Now he shrieked in terror. Sinjin gathered the child into his arms, and cupped the boy’s head, pressing James to his shoulder. It was as if he had been under a spell, one that was now broken. He looked down at the blood that had soaked into his uncle’s shirt and he whimpered.
Lucy got to her feet. Her legs were wobbly, but she wanted to go to James, and help Sinjin comfort the boy. Their foes were dead, were gone ... all except Jack. What would he do?
Sinjin picked up the sword dropped by Ferrars. He took a step toward her brother. Fear spiked in Lucy’s heart. He wouldn’t spare Jack now. Not after Jack had tried to kill him. She was going to see her brother die—
The sword clattered across the room. Sinjin had tossed it aside. “You saved her life. Thank you,” he said simply.
Jack gaped at him in amazement. “I—I staked you. And you are thanking me?”
Sinjin kissed James on the head, then faced her brother. “I assume he tempted you with the promise with power or forced you to help him with threats.”
“Both.” Jack hung his head, looking guilty. “He promised power first, then threatened to kill me if I didn’t help him.” Jack turned to her, but he did not look her in the eye. “I never would have given you to him, Lucy. I was trying to play for time, to find a way out of the mess.”
“A way that would spare your life—” Then she put her hands to her face. “Jack, you betrayed us. I don’t know if I can forgive that.”
“I know.” Grimly, her brother looked to Sinjin. “If you spare my life, I will disappear to the Continent. You will look after Lucy, won’t you? Will you look after all of them? I can see how much you love her and she loves you. I’ve never known love—”
“Yes, you have!” Lucy jerked up her head. “You are a stupid fool, Jack. I love you. Helena and Beatrix love you! For some reason, you’ve always seemed to want us to despise you, not love you.” Then she stopped and she hurried forward to James. She took James from Sinjin and gathered him into her arms. At once, the boy seemed to relax against her and she stroked his head.
“I am not going to kill you, Wrenshire,” Sinjin said. “I would not put Lucy through so much pain. I owe you for saving her life and for protecting my nephew. In the end, you proved you had a heart.”
She was kissing James on his head, soothing him, when Sinjin came to her. He wrapped his arms around her. “Your brother should be free now. Ferrars was a powerful dragon—one that had demon blood in him, which gave him abilities beyond those possessed by normal shape-shifting dragons. He had the power to control James’s mind. He wanted to use James and study him, because James is an unusual dragon. The only one who has ever shown the ability to shift shape so young.”
She knew she was gaping at him in astonishment. “How do you know this?”
“An intriguing man told me. He is a vampire who is also a historian.” Sinjin told her about a strange, wizened little man who owned a bookshop in Charing Cross and recorded all the secrets of vampires and demons and shape-shifters.
“He told me about you,” Sinjin said softly.
“About me? What could he tell you about me? You already know I am a dragon and who my parents are.”
Sinjin lifted her chin. His eyes glittered at her. “How do you feel, Lucy? Strong? You don’t feel weak or sick, do you?”
“I feel fine ... well, considering what we have just been through.”
“I have a confession to make, love. When I gave you my blood, I took a huge risk. I didn’t know if it would save you ... or kill you.” He looked so guilty. So ashamed. “I did it because I was desperate to save you. You will hate me for taking that kind of risk—”
“It didn’t kill me,” she interrupted firmly. “And if you hadn’t done it, I would have died.”
He lifted her hand and bestowed a gentle kiss to her palm. “I made you a vampire, love, without your consent.”
“I—I will learn to live with that.”
“Guidon, the chronicler, told me who your mother was. It is something you must know, Lucy.”
“But I know about my mother—” She stopped. His face wore such a serious expression and her heart gave a flip-flop in her chest. Whatever he believed he knew, he expected it would shock her. She squared her shoulders and steeled her heart for what she would hear. But then she thought of James, and of where they were—in the prince’s house.
“Don’t tell me now. Let us take James to somewhere safe.”
Sinjin bowed. “You are correct, as always, love. But first, I have something I have to do.” His mouth set in a hard line for an instant, and determination burned in his silver-green eyes. “I defeated the prince and survived. That means, in theory, I now have control of the dragon slayers. It is time we stopped fighting and killing each other.”
She gaped at him.
“I want to put an end to the slayers. There will be no more killing. I want both of us to learn how to live peacefully. Lucy, love, will you help me with this?”
“Yes, of course I will. But you—are you certain you wish me to help you? You see, the prince told me—” She couldn’t continue. Her tongue felt thick and clumsy, her throat was tight with tears she was struggling to keep inside.