Page 22

Chapter Nineteen

Costin doesn’t reach me.

Darkness, complete and absolute, surrounds me.

Rubble pins my arms at my sides.

The weight of the collapsed church presses down on me from all directions, dust filling my lungs with each unnecessary breath I take.

Old habits die hard, even for the undead.

I cough, the sound muffled by the tons of stone and wood entombing me.

Had I needed to breathe, I’d be suffocating.

Instead, I lie trapped and hacking in my grave.

My heart beats faster as I start to panic.

Wouldn’t this be a fitting end to my new immortal life?

Trapped in a location everyone has forgotten for centuries?

No.

Costin would never leave me down here.

I have to stay calm.

The crypt’s ceiling has partially collapsed, but the ancient stone walls have held, creating a pocket of space barely large enough for me to move.

I try to find my bearings so I can dig out.

I push against a beam that’s pinning my leg, feeling the wood splinter under my hybrid strength.

Pain shoots through my calf as blood flows back into the crushed muscle.

The shift in wood makes my tiny room unstable and the beam cracks in half.

Another section of ceiling gives way with a sickening thud.

The space is getting smaller by the minute.

I roll to avoid being crushed, pressing myself against the cold stone wall.

I close my eyes, trying to calm the panic rising in my chest.

The vampire in me wants to conserve energy and wait patiently.

The wolf wants to dig, claw, and fight its way out.

And somewhere between them, the girl I used to be just wants to scream.

My tomb ceiling continues to crumble.

The falling stone shifts the broken beam in my direction.

I cry out, pushing my hands up to stop it from dropping on me.

A thick splinter aims its sharp edge at the center of my chest only to hover inches away like a stake.

This looks a lot like how you kill vampires, and the only thing between me and death is my werewolf strength locked in a bench press.

“Costin,” I whisper, focusing on our bond.

It’s been a long night of fighting and I haven’t fed.

My arms are already trembling a little.

I’m not sure how long I can hold this position.

I feel him frantically coming for me, but I don’t think he will reach me beneath the rubble in time.

“Costin,” I insist, hoping he can hear my words.

“I need you to do something for me.”

“I’m coming,” he says.

“No, listen, I need you to make sure Paul, Diana, and Lorelai are protected without them knowing. They’ve had enough supernatural interference in their lives. I need to know they’re safe from?—”

“Tamara,” Costin interrupts.

I feel his irritation.

“We can talk about this later.”

My arms shake and the stake drops closer to my chest.

“Tell Anthony that Conrad’s spirit has moved on. It’s over. Tell him thank you. He’s the best brother I could have asked for. Tell him to forget about everyone else and find his own happiness. He’ll know what I mean.”

“You tell him,” Costin counters.

The beam is getting heavier.

“Costin, I love you. I…” The stake is touching my chest now.

I can’t wiggle right or left with any significance to avoid its threat.

“Just, I forgive you and love you.”

I think of Costin.

His face, solemn and watchful, as he looked after me my whole life.

I know it started as an obligation to my grandfather, a promise to his old friend to protect me and guide me through a prophecy.

He looked at me like I was an annoying kid.

I looked at him like he was an old monster.

But these last months it evolved into something more.

It’s like he finally saw me as a capable woman, and I saw the man hiding in the vampire’s shadow.

That night everything changed between us, when the dam broke and we came together for the first time, it was angry and raw, and I still feel his skin against mine.

I wouldn’t change that moment for anything.

The memories give me strength.

I focus on our bond, pulling on it like a lifeline.

“Hurry.”

I push against a fallen beam, muscles straining.

It doesn’t budge.

I push harder, summoning every ounce of hybrid strength.

The wood groans but holds fast.

I feel it press into my skin.

Blood trickles down between my breasts.

My heart hammers violently.

Frustration boils over, and I shove hands against the beam as hard as I can.

“Move!”

To my shock, the beam trembles, then slides sideways as if pushed by invisible hands.

It wedges itself next to my thigh, bracing the ceiling just enough to allow me to rest.

I drop my hands to my legs and look down at the spreading bloodstain on my shirt.

That was too close.

I stare at my hands in disbelief.

Did I just.

.

.

?

No.

It can’t be.

I focus on a chunk of stone near my feet.

“Move,” I whisper, concentrating.

Nothing happens.

I close my eyes, thinking of how it felt when Conrad’s spirit exploded in light, when all those trapped souls broke free.

The raw power that surged through me in that moment.

I reach for that feeling, that connection.

“Move!”

The stone skitters across the floor.

Fucking hell.

I did that.

I just moved something with my mind.

Before I can process what this means, dust rains down from above as something heavy impacts the debris.

I hear muffled voices, and the scrape of stone against stone.

“Tamara?” Costin’s voice, closer now.

“Tamara, answer me!”

“Here,” I shout, hope surging through me.

I look at the staked beam next to me as I press a hand over the wound in my chest.

My fingers are covered in blood.

I’m not healing.

“Careful! It’s unstable.”

The sounds of digging intensify.

I hear Anthony’s voice now too, and others I don’t recognize.

They’re arguing about the best approach, worried about causing another collapse.

A shaft of moonlight suddenly pierces the darkness as a hole appears above me.

Dust motes dance in the silver beam, and I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my life.

“I see her!” Costin’s face appears in the opening, his eyes glowing red with intensity.

He reaches into the hole, but his hand is several feet away.

“Can you get to me?”

I close my eyes and try to make my vampire body travel like I did once before, but I feel too weak.

“Tamara, hold on. We’re almost there.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I reply, with a wry laugh.

Costin’s voice becomes distant as he says, “I smell blood. She’s badly hurt.”

My head drops back weakly and all I can do is watch.

The hole widens as they clear more debris.

I can see Costin working frantically, his movements a blur of supernatural speed.

Anthony’s hands glow blue with magic as he stabilizes the remaining structure around us.

And to my surprise, I see Sully’s massive form, his werewolf strength making short work of the larger pieces of rubble.

“Careful,” someone warns as the structure groans.

“I’ve got it,” Anthony replies, his magic creating a web of support.

Finally, the opening is large enough.

Costin reaches down, his hand extended toward me.

I move to my knees and stretch up a bloody hand, our fingers almost touching.

Just a few more inches.

.

.

The rubble shifts beneath me, and I fall.

Costin doesn’t hesitate.

He leaps down into the hole, landing beside me with catlike grace.

There’s barely enough room for the both of us but he manages to wrap his arms around me, pulling me tight against his chest.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he whispers, his voice rough with emotion.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” I reply, burying my face in his neck as I drop weakly against him.

I close my eyes and take in his scent.

He pulls back just enough to look at me, his eyes scanning my face, my body, cataloging every scratch and bruise.

His hand cups my cheek, thumb gently wiping away a streak of dust.

Then his mouth is on mine, desperate and hungry, as if he needs to physically confirm I’m alive.

I kiss him back with equal fervor, uncaring of our audience above.

In this moment, nothing exists but us and the solid reality of his body against mine, the taste of him on my lips, the pulse of our bond flowing between us stronger than ever.

Someone clears their throat above us.

Reluctantly, Costin breaks the kiss.

“Perhaps we could continue the reunion somewhere less likely to collapse?” Anthony suggests dryly.

Costin smiles against my lips.

With little effort, he pushes me toward the opening.

I start to protest that I can climb out by myself, but the truth is, my leg is throbbing, my arms are weak, and I’m not sure I can support my weight.

Anthony and Sully help pull me out.

A few wolves are with him, but I don’t know their names.

Once I’m clear, Costin scoops me into his arm and carries me past the rubble before setting me down gently on the ground.

Corpses are scattered around the graveyard, a reminder of what Leviathan did.

“Paul?” I ask, looking around.

“Is he okay?”

“Safe,” Anthony assures me, dropping on the ground next to us.

“He’s passed out in the back seat of the car.”

Relief floods me.

At least I didn’t get him killed.

Again.

“We should go,” Sully says, his massive form silhouetted against the moonlight.

“This place is unstable, and there could be more of those things.”

He means zombies.

I glance around the graveyard, but the undead are truly dead once more.

The ground is torn up where they emerged, but nothing stirs in the moonlight.

Whatever power animated them died with Leviathan.

Or at least, I hope it did.

“Thank you,” I tell Sully.

He nods.

“I told you. A threat to one of us is a threat to all of us.”

With a sharp whistle, he tilts his head and orders the wolves to leave.

The werewolves take off across the graveyard.

A part of me jolts, instinctively wanting to follow them, but I’m too exhausted.

“See you at the full moon,” Sully says to me with a grin.

As he heads for his bike, Anthony goes next to him as the Alpha pulls on his driving gloves.

He whispers something low, then reaches to shake Sully’s hand.

Sully looks at him, and for the briefest moment, something unspoken passes between them.

Sully’s gloved hand comes up to take Anthony’s, and his eyes flash with gold.

My brother doesn’t flinch, just gives a small nod.

Sully climbs onto his bike, starts the engine, and peels off into the night without another word.

Anthony watches him go.

“Can you walk?” Costin asks, his arm slipping around my shoulders.

I test my injured leg, wincing.

“I’ll manage.”

“You don’t have to,” he says softly, brushing back my hair.

The tenderness in his voice makes my chest ache.

I turn my face into his palm, pressing my lips against his skin.

“I thought I was going to die down there.”

“I would have torn the world apart to find you,” he says, and I know it’s not hyperbole.

The master vampire who’s lived through centuries would have reduced the church to dust with his bare hands if necessary.

“I know,” I whisper.

He leans forward, his forehead touching mine.

“I’m sorry I left you.”

“You had to. I made you.”

“Never again.” His voice is fierce with promise.

“I won’t leave you again, Tamara. Not for anything.”

The words settle between us.

I close the distance, capturing his lips in a kiss that’s gentle at first, then deepens with building hunger.

His hand slides into my hair, cradling my head as if I’m something precious.

The bond pulses between us, but it feels different now.

It’s less like a chain and more like a bridge connecting two equal forces.

I don’t feel dominated or controlled.

I feel understood, as if Costin is my missing piece that makes me whole.

Motorcycle engines rev in the distance, interrupting us.

When we break apart, his eyes have shifted to deep crimson, betraying his need.

I feel an answering hunger rise inside of me.

It’s not just for blood, but for him.

For the deep connection we share.

“Home,” I say softly.

“Take me home.”

I lean into him, accepting his support as we stand.

We make our way slowly through the graveyard, past the broken iron gates to where our vehicle is parked.

Anthony waits by the car.

The sleek black vehicle somehow survived the zombie apocalypse unscathed.

“Let’s get back to the estate,” my brother says.

“We need to report to Astrid and have her check on Paul before we send him back to his daughter.”

“You need blood,” Costin says, his eyes flicking to my injured leg and chest.

“I’ll go ahead and get it ready.”

I start to answer but Costin is already stepping away.

“Get her home,” he tells Anthony.

My brother waves his hand in dismissal before sliding into the driver’s seat.

I glance in the back window to see Paul laying on the seat, eyes closed.

Once I’m in the car, the adrenaline that’s been keeping me going finally ebbs.

I slump in the passenger seat, exhaustion settling into my bones.

“Hell of a night, huh?” Anthony starts the car but doesn’t immediately drive away.

Instead, he turns to face me fully.

“What happened down there, Tamara? After we left?”

“Later,” I reply.

“Right now I just need a moment to process everything.”

Anthony sighs and stares at the church.

“I can’t believe Mortimer was helping Leviathan this whole time. I heard about necromancers fueling their power with the dead, but did you see how many spirits he had trapped? Do you think our uncle knew what he was doing to Conrad?”

“Drive,” I insist.

“I don’t want to be here anymore.”

The car pulls away from the church.

I can see Anthony isn’t going to stop asking questions until I tell him.

I take a deep breath and tell him everything about Conrad’s final moments, the release of the trapped spirits, and Leviathan’s apparent destruction.

“There’s something else.” I hesitate before mentioning my new ability.

“When I was trapped, I moved things. Without touching them.”

Anthony gives a small smile, but I sense his surprise.

“Telekinesis?”

“I don’t know what to call it. It just happened. Like the power that freed Conrad somehow stayed inside me.”

He’s quiet for a moment, processing.

“I mean, maybe the spirits Leviathan had imprisoned transferred their residual power to you when you freed them.”

“Really? How is it even possible? I’ve never been able to harness my own magic.”

“In the supernatural world, many things are possible that shouldn’t be. You’re a Devine. Our blood was made to carry magic.” He reaches out to tousle my hair and I swat him away.

“About damn time, if you think about it. We always knew mortals were slow on the uptake but talk about a late bloomer.”

“You know, this is the first time I’ve ridden in a car with you driving. This feels more dangerous than fighting zombies.”

“What are you implying?” He smirks.

“I think it’s pretty obvious you’re a pampered golden boy.” I keep a straight face.

“Or was it pretty little mama’s boy?”

“You’re an asshole,” Anthony laughs.

I chuckle.

“Guess that runs in our Devine blood as well.”

“In all seriousness though, Tam-tam, when we were kids and I promised we’d find a way to make you immortal, I didn’t mean for you to do all the ways. No need to show everyone up to become a vampire-werewolf-magic. One would have sufficed.”

I know it’s his way of saying he’s glad I’m alive.

“I love you, too, brother,” I answer.

As we approach the estate gates, our teasing fades and we both sit straighter in our seats.

Something feels off.

The spells along the borders are dimmer than usual.

It’s a bad sign in a house as security conscious as the Devine estate.

“Does this feel right to you?” I ask.

Anthony’s grip tightens on the steering wheel.

“No. I sense it too.”

We cautiously pass through the gates.

The house is eerily quiet.

Zombies still lay on the lawn from earlier in the night.

The broken front door is ajar.

There are no lights in the windows.

Even the fountain in the circular drive is silent.

“Did the electricity go out?” I frown.

“Is that even possible?”

Anthony parks and Costin appears at my window before I can open the door.

My leg and chest have already begun to heal.

The vampire blood in my veins works its magic, but I’m still unsteady.

He helps me from the car.

“Did something else happen after we left?” I ask Costin.

“I checked most of the house. I didn’t find anyone inside,” he answers.

“No bodies beyond our little friends out here where we left them.”

“Did Astrid sound worried when you talked to her?” I ask Anthony.

“She sounded like Astrid,” he says.

“Pissed at Leviathan and Mortimer about the corpses on the lawn and the broken artwork. She was getting it cleaned up. I don’t think she’d ever leave the house like this. Not willingly.”

“Do you think Mortimer came back?” I suggest.

“No,” Costin says, his voice tight.

“This was Elizabeth.”

My blood runs cold.

“How do you know?”

“Her scent is everywhere. And this—” He holds up a ruby pendant.

“She left it deliberately. She wants us to know it was her.”

“Your sister?” Anthony frowns.

“Why would Astrid go with her?”

I don’t think she would.

At least not willingly.

“Anthony, I need you to get Paul to safety.” I grab my brother’s hand and squeeze.

“What? No, I’m not?—”

“Please, Anthony,” I beg.

“Take him and come back. We’ll go see what Elizabeth wants.”

Anthony takes my arm.

“I don’t trust her.”

“That’s because you’re smart.” I pat his hand.

“Please. You’re the only one I trust to handle this. We can’t be in the sun.”

He sighs and nods, going back around the car.

“Just be safe.”

Costin positions himself in front of me as we enter.

Even though he said he didn’t find anyone when he searched the house, he’s tense and ready for attack.

The foyer is empty, but I can smell blood.

I don’t know if it was from our fight with the zombies or something else.

I listen to the silence.

Most of the staff had been sent away when they brought me back here, and three of the servants were murdered by zombies.

It’s possible the rest ran off from this house of terrors.

I know I would have.

We move deeper into the home, following the scent of blood to the study.

The door is splintered, hanging off its hinges.

Inside, furniture is overturned, books scattered across the floor.

Signs of a violent struggle are everywhere.

“This is where I found the pendant,” Costin says.

But no bodies.

No Astrid or Davis.

I pick up a broken chair leg.

“But why would she do this? What does Elizabeth want?”

“What she’s always wanted.” Costin’s expression darkens.

“Power. Control. With the council in chaos over the unbalanced magic from her failed ceremony, she sees a power vacuum.”

“And she’s using my family as leverage?”

“Yes.” Costin nods grimly, examining a smear of blood on the wall.

“She’ll want us to come for them. This is a message. She’s been waiting for an opportunity, and while we were dealing with Leviathan, she seized it.”

I move to the center of the room, closing my eyes.

The new power I discovered in the crypt stirs inside me.

Can I use it to find them?

To sense where Elizabeth has taken them?

Nothing happens.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“I honestly don’t know,” I whisper.

I try a different approach.

I think of Elizabeth’s cold beauty, her calculating eyes, and her centuries of manipulation and control.

I imagine the sire bond she shares with Costin, similar to the one I share with him but older, darker.

A flash of insight hits me.

It’s not a vision exactly, but a knowing.

“The underground city,” I say, opening my eyes.

“She’s taken them to the vampire quarter.”

Costin’s eyebrows rise slightly.

“How do you know?”

“I felt it in your sire bond,” I say, unable to explain the certainty I feel.

He studies me for a moment, then nods.

“It makes sense. It’s the kind of theatrical gesture Elizabeth would appreciate.”

I start for the door, but Costin catches my arm.

“Wait. You need blood first. And we need a plan. Elizabeth has had centuries to perfect her cruelty. We can’t just charge in.”

The wolf in me bristles at the delay, but the vampire acknowledges the wisdom in his words.

“Fine. Blood first, then planning. But quickly.”

He guides me to the pantry, where emergency blood supplies are kept in a hidden refrigerator.

I gulp down a bottle, feeling strength return to my limbs as the rich liquid works its magic.

Costin watches me with an intensity that makes my skin tingle.

When I finish, he takes the empty bottle from my hands and disposes of it.

Then he’s back in front of me, his movements so fast I barely register them.

“I thought I’d lost you today,” he says again, his voice rough with emotion.

“When the church collapsed, and I couldn’t reach you through our bond for those first few moments...”

I place my hand over his heart, feeling it beat beneath my palm.

“But you found me. You always find me.”

His hands slide under my torn shirt, cool against my skin.

It rests on the wound now healing over my chest.

His eyes darken as he leans in, capturing my mouth in a kiss that steals my breath.

There’s desperation in it, a need born of fear and relief.

I understand because I feel it too.

The terror of almost losing each other.

My hands find their way under his shirt, tracing the hard planes of his chest.

The kitchen counter presses against my back as he lifts me onto it, stepping between my legs.

My body responds instantly, hybrid senses heightening every sensation.

“We shouldn’t,” I murmur against his lips, even as my legs wrap around his waist.

“Just a moment,” he whispers, his mouth trailing down my neck.

“Just one moment to remind ourselves we’re alive.”

I arch into him as his fangs graze my skin, not breaking it but threatening to.

My own extend in response, the hybrid hunger rising.

I want his blood, his body, the connection that only comes when we’re joined completely.

He seems to read my thoughts, his hands tightening on my hips.

“When this is over,” he promises, “when your family is safe, I’m going to take you to my home in the mountains. Just the two of us. No council, no Elizabeth, no one to interrupt. And I’m going to make love to you for centuries.”

The image he paints makes me shiver with anticipation.

“Promise?”

“I swear it,” he says, sealing the vow with another kiss.

I believe him.

Not because of the sire bond or vampire compulsion, but because in this moment, I trust him completely.

Whatever comes next, we’ll face it together.

The kiss deepens.

This time neither of us pulls back.

There’s no space for hesitation.

His hands slide beneath the remnants of my shirt, lifting it over my head and tossing it aside without ceremony.

I’m not gentle either, tugging his pants free, hungry to feel skin against skin.

When our bodies meet, it’s not just sex.

It’s need, raw and biting, sharpened by everything we almost lost today.

He sets me down on the counter.

I barely register the hard surface.

All I want is the slick slide of his skin against mine.

He presses into me.

His mouth claims every inch of mine like he’s trying to imprint himself into memory.

It’s ridiculous because I’d never forget him.

We don’t speak as we move.

There’s no need for words.

I tilt my head, offering my throat without thought.

His fangs brush the sensitive skin, teasing, threatening, worshiping, edged in hunger.

My own pierce his shoulder and the blinding pleasure erupts in climax.

He buries his face in my neck, clamping down hard, and I feel him release with me.

It’s not gentle.

It’s not pretty.

But it’s real.

It’s us.

When we finally break apart, I feel more focused.

The blood and Costin’s touch have restored me, body and spirit.

I slide off the counter, straightening my clothes.

“Let’s go kick some ass,” I say.

As we leave the kitchen, I feel something nudge against my consciousness.

A faint echo of the power I felt in the crypt.

It whispers to me of danger, of change, of choices yet to be made.

Elizabeth is waiting for us, and she won’t be alone.

But neither will I.

I have Costin.