Page 28 of Kiss the Dawn (Order of Helsing #4)

EZEKIEL

T he vehicle I hired is large and spacious, some new luxury model, the name escapes me, but the seats are buttery leather, and it smells like money.

Godor sits curled in on himself in the seat opposite me. He’s getting larger and more humanoid. His face in particular looks more like a person now. How did I not notice that? Have I been so self-obsessed and blind?

He shifts in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. “Godor could fly.”

“I know, but we’re arriving in a car like normal people.”

“We are not normal people,” he says softly, almost wistfully.

A weight settles on my chest. “You’re changing. ”

His gaze sharpens. “Yes, Master.”

“I hate it when you call me that.”

“Then what should I call you? Father?”

I wince, then note the pain in his eyes. Has it always been there? Unease stirs in my belly. Sensations that have been absent for too long. Things like concern and anxiety and bone-aching longing.

My mind turns to Orina. Again.

What is she doing at this moment? I turn my sight inwards, find the nearest Raven, and slip into its mind, commanding its wings to take me to her apartment. We fly high above the city and swoop toward her building. There it is. Her balcony. Her window. But the lights are out. She’s not home. Where could she be?

My chest grows tight.

I slip from the Raven’s mind and back into myself.

“Master, are you all right?” Godor asks.

“I’m fine.”

“You do not sound fine.”

When did he become so insightful? “And how does fine sound, Godor?”

He considers the question for a moment, then shrugs a powerful shoulder “Not like that.”

The car slides to a smooth halt. It looks like we’re here. I remind myself to smile, show no fang, and to be civil. No murderous glares, no withering ones either.

I’m a new man. An approachable man.

A benevolent king.

This is my new leaf, not just for Orina, but for myself. I take a breath and exit the vehicle. This part of town is quiet. An industrial estate with several abandoned warehouses in need of repurposing. Can they be used for good? I make a mental note to investigate it. Homeless people need shelter…Do we have homeless here in Dracul? It irks me how little I know about my own territory. Rage and hunger have consumed me for too long. But Orina freed me from the grip of my past, and I see clearly now what must be done to make this a better place, not just for the vampires but for the humans. I’ve allowed my kind too much freedom, and they view humans as property now. My fault.

The scourge of the blood drinkers is my fucking fault.

I will rectify it. I will bring a balance not just to win Orina’s heart but to keep my own.

A light drizzle begins to fall as I make my way across the lot to the building with the silver sign that says Innovation .

The windows are dark, which almost gives me pause.

“It is too quiet,” Godor says. “Godor doesn’t like it.”

“You need to stop talking about yourself in the third person, Godor.”

“I sense someone.”

“Good. Then we can ask them where it is we need to go for this tour.” But there are no other cars here. No one at all. I slow my pace, my preternatural instincts warning me that something is wrong.

But the doors ahead open, and a man appears, a huge smile lighting up his face at the sight of me. “Ah, Your Highness.” He makes an awkward bow. “We are so excited that you could join us.”

“It seems that I am the only one to join you.” I indicate the empty lot.

He gives an awkward laugh. “Ah, yes. The public will be arriving in half an hour, but we hoped to give you a private tour to begin with. Our science team is so very excited to speak with you about our new initiatives.”

A sales pitch, then. They want more money. Not a problem. I can do this. I smile in what I hope is an easy, warm manner.

“Well, of course. Please lead the way.”

I stride toward him, Godor close behind me.

He backs into the building, and I follow.

The foyer is dimly lit with a high ceiling and a set of steps leading up to the first floor. There are lifts to the right and a set of fire doors at the back through which a second man appears. He’s taller, broad with dark hair and steely eyes that fix on me. His smile holds the imprint of a lie.

“Your Highness,” he says, his tone clipped. “This way.”

He waits at the door, holding it open.

Another flare of unease blooms in my gut .

“Oh my God, is he here?” A young woman in a lab coat pokes her head round the door, her eyes flying wide at the sight of me. She lets out a squeak, then covers her mouth.

The dark-haired man rolls his eyes and cracks a smile. “We’ll be up in a moment, Celia,” he says. She hurries off, and he turns back to me. “Your Highness?”

I’m ready to get this over with. I take a step, and the door behind me bursts open.

Orina’s scent hits me, and I turn on my heel to find her standing in the doorway, her silvery locks wild about her flushed face.

Her chest heaves as her gaze locks on to me. She opens her mouth to speak, but all that emerges is a growl as the darkness takes her.

ORINA

I made it. I fucking made it. He was here. Not trapped yet. I opened my mouth to shout a warning, and my throat closed as rage swelled in my chest.

My vision darkened, and the world was painted red with Ezekiel as a bright glowing focal point that I needed to extinguish.

No…No, no, no.

Kill him. You want to kill him. The bastard. The evil bastard .

Every moment that Ezekiel had hurt someone flashed through my mind. Jeremy’s head in a pool of blood. Mary’s dying whimpers. Laroux eviscerated on the floor and Agatha…Oh God, Agatha.

I drew my blade. I wanted to kill him.

“No, Orina!” Henry yelled. “Get back!”

But I couldn’t stop. Wrath choked me, stole my breath and my will, and the only thing that could sate it was watching the light in his eyes die.

His eyes…

He watched me with sad acceptance.

He didn’t run.

He wouldn’t fight me.

I knew it because…

He loved me.

Every moment that he’d saved me passed through my mind. His body shielding mine when the batlings attacked. His arms wrapping around me and begging the ghost of Emelie not to hurt me. Him throwing Shay off me and scooping me into his arms. I saw him crouched in a cell desolate and lost. I felt his pain. Visions of his torture flashed through my mind.

The darkness surged, attempting to drag me down, but this time I fought it, clinging to the memories like a raft in a stormy sea.

EZEKIEL

Power flares around me, Orina, and something else. Something alien yet familiar. It’s behind me, but I can’t look back. I can’t take my eyes off the woman I love as she strides toward me, eyes as black as night.

She raises her sword, ready to strike.

Godor roars and lunges at her, but I throw out my hand to stop him. I won’t hurt her.

I can’t.

If this is my end, then so be it.

She’s almost on me, and someone shouts her name. A warning but for what?

She jolts to a halt for a beat, her eyes go wide, and the darkness retreats, freeing her eye whites. Gray irises flare.

“Ezekiel, it’s a trap!”

“NO!” The dark-haired man slams into me, attempting to throw me back.

Power singes my senses.

A trap.

A spell.

Orina screams.

“You killed her!” the man cries. “You killed my Agatha.”

“Master, let me free,” Godor pleads.

But I can’t. I won’t hurt this man. I’ve taken too much from him already. The pain in his eyes. Oh, so much pain.

I stop fighting him, and he shoves me, hard enough for me to lose my balance .

ORINA

The trap lights up, familiar lines and runes. The fae-made trap from Holly’s book.

The world seems to slow down as I run toward Ezekiel. Henry shoves him, and the vampire king stumbles backward. I won’t make it past Henry to catch Ezekiel. But I don’t need to touch him to save him.

The trap can only hold one.

I’ll be that one.

EZEKIEL

I catch myself and find my balance. Henry makes to shove me again, but his head whips to the side. To Orina as she barrels past us and straight into the trap.

My heart leaps up my throat, and I lunge toward her.

Too late.

The arcane power grabs hold of her and yanks her into the circle. A sharp crack sounds, and energy hits me in the chest, throwing me off my feet and across the room. I recover quickly and run toward the golden orb that holds the woman I love.

She’s held four feet off the ground by thick inky ropes of power.

“Orina!” I run at the orb, but it’s like hitting a stone wall. I bounce off it and try again.

Godor, now free of my hold, tries too .

“It’s no use,” Henry says, his tone defeated. “The trap is triggered.” He shakes his head, his face a mask of confusion as he looks from Orina to me. “Why?” he asks her. “Why would you do this, Miss Lighthart?”

Her head falls forward, and our gazes lock. “Why?” She smiles, and it’s the most beautiful thing that I’ve ever seen. “Because I love him.”

Fire starbursts in my chest, the heat of the sun rushing through my veins. My vision is filled with light, and I’m flooded with memories. Deep, hidden moments that not even breaking the cycle of nightmares released. My heart swells with emotions I’d forgotten, and my eyes burn with the salt of tears.

An agonized scream pulls me back, slamming me onto my knees.

Another scream is followed by the sweet scent of blood.

“Orina!” Godor bellows.

I force my head up, body trembling from the aftereffects of a broken curse, to find her impaled by barbs. Rivers of blood trickle down her body and pool on the ground. She’s limp, unconscious, and bleeding out.

“No!” My voice is a ragged broken thing. “Let her go, please, let her go.”

Henry tears his gaze from her and fixes it on me. “She loves you…”

I can hear her pulse slowing. She’s dying. “Henry, please. Don’t punish her for my crimes. She’s a good woman. An honorable woman.”

“And she…loves you,” he says again. His brows go up. “You love her too.”

“Take from me what I took from you. It would be a perfect revenge. But then it would make you just like me. A monster. Is that what you want? Is this what Agatha would have wanted?”

“Don’t fucking say her name!” Spittle flies from his mouth, but then his face crumples. “You don’t get to say her name.”

“This wasn’t what we agreed to.” The woman from before approaches, except now her hair is bright blue, and her eyes a stunning green.

She’s fae.

“We didn’t agree to harm an innocent,” she says.

“He loves her.” Henry points a finger at me. “He should watch her die.”

The woman looks down on him in pity. “Not today. Not like this.” She lifts her hand and clicks her fingers.

The trap vanishes, and Orina falls. I move fast, blurring to catch her. I lower her to the ground, cradling her in my arms. Her blood soaks my hands and fills my head, and my hunger rises. I tamp it down.

“It’s too late,” Henry says with glee. “She won’t make it.”

I bite my wrist and hold it to her mouth.

Henry lets out a bellow of rage and rushes me, but Godor tackles him and throws him to the ground, and the next moment the doors fly open, and Kaster appears, Sangualex at his back.

“Drink, Orina. Drink.” I pinch her jaw and force my blood into her. “Drink, dammit!”

My heart is in my mouth because she’s so pale, so unresponsive, her pulse so slow it’s almost gone.

I can’t lose her. I won’t. I grip her throat and squeeze. “Drink now!”

It moves beneath my hand, once, twice, and the band around my chest eases. She’s drinking. She’s fucking drinking.

A sob claws at my throat, and I let it free, blinking back tears as she grabs hold of my wrist and sucks.

The curse is broken. I’m free, and everything I need to live for is safe in my arms.