Page 134 of Samhain Savior

Around us, shouts began to ring out, voices calling from beyond my wall of shadows as the vampires of Genevieve’s nest began to search for their wayward queen.

Our time was nearly up.

“Archer.” Delilah looked up at me, her eyes pleading, and I shook my head at my own soft-heartedness.

This woman unmade me in every way.

“As much as I’d like to dole out punishments, this is not my region,” I said, rising to my full height and spreading my wings wide again. “In matters this egregious, I will defer to Duchess Murmur for judgment.”

Genevieve’s eyes snapped to Mex, her chin showing only the slightest wobble as she waited.

Mex, for her part, was overly dramatic, tapping one finger on her chin as she pretended to contemplate the queen’s fate.

Finally, she blew out a dramatic breath, before replying, “You and I will discuss the penalty for your actions at a later date, your majesty.” Genevieve’s shoulders sank, and I couldn’t tell if the gesture was relief or disappointment that she’d have to wait to learn how Mex planned to handle her.

From the way Mex was eyeing the beautiful queen, she may enjoy her punishment more than she would have if I were the one administering it.

“For now,” Mex continued, her voice firm. “I believe there was an item that Archer came here to find. Don’t you think he should have it?”

Genevieve frowned, a small wrinkle appearing on her doll-like face as one pale hand rose to the black diamond that hung heavy at her throat, the infamous relic glinting like frozen midnight.

Delilah gripped my arm tightly, her breath catching now that actually having the diamond in her possession finally seemed plausible. I could feel the effect it was having on her through the bond, how hard she was fighting not to give in to the sway of the sins and vices embodied by the diamond.

With slow, deliberate grace, Genevieve unclasped the necklace. The stone swung from her fingers like a pendulum of doom, its power palpable even from here.

She held it out politely—not quite kneeling, never so debased—but bowing her head just enough to make the gesture undeniable.

“Au revoir, mon trésor,” she whispered softly, a single tear streaking down her cheek as the diamond dangled between us. The words were a benediction, but I had no clue if they were to the diamond itself…or the lost lover who had bestowed it upon her.

“Not to me,” I said, crossing my arms in my refusal to take the infernal thing from her shaking hand. “It belongs to Delilah.”

Genevieve’s eyes lifted, sharp again, the ghost of a sad smile playing on her lips.

“Do not mistake this gift for weakness. I am Genevieve Dubois, daughter of the French court, Vampire Queen of New Orleans. I bend to no one. But gratitude—” she cast a last longing glance at the diamond “—gratitude I will bestow where it is due.”

I could see it cost her dearly, handing over the diamond her lover had given her to another woman. Her pride was a mask, but the fracture in it showed as clearly as the tear still glistening on her cheek. Still, she held her tongue, offering the necklace to Delilah even though every inch of her posture screamed she despised the act.

For a moment, Delilah didn’t move, more than a little stunned by the situation. Then, with aching slowness, she replaced Pandora into the pouch at her waist and held out her hand.

“Enjoy it while you can, little witch. Diamonds are fickle lovers. And they cut as deeply as they shine.”

Chapter sixty-two

Delilah

I could feel it.

The power of the diamond called to me, burning me from the inside out, and I wanted it for myself. I wanted to own it, to hoard that power so that no one could ever take it from me.

But I also feared it.

The last time I’d laid hands on a piece of the Fallen Key, Archer and I had found ourselves lost in the Void, at the mercy of a mad demon.

I dreaded another surprise like that one.

“Go on, little witch,” Archer said gently, his words a low rumble at my back. “Take it. It’s yours.”

I could see the sorrow on Genevieve’s face, the way she hated having to turn it over to me, and a part of me felt bad about it.