Dark Awakening (39 page)

Until together, they hurtled over the breathless edge into dark, wicked bliss.

Later, they held each other in the big bed, tangled together. Lily rested her head on Ty’s chest as he talked about his life: the poverty of his upbringing, the rejection of his family when they discovered what he had become. His companions, and the different paths they had chosen, none of them particularly good. And finally, the reason for his allegiance to Arsinöe.

“It was a raid on a Cait Sith safe house, much like the one we were in, though the cats used to stick together a bit more in those days.” He stroked her back absently as he talked, and she listened to the rumble of his voice.

“The Ptolemy used to flush them out occasionally, for sport, I suppose. Some would end up enslaved; some would be killed. Then the house would be torched. I don’t know how many times I’d barely escaped one of those raids, but eventually, my luck ran out. I’d been working for Rogan, smuggling, stealing—bit of this and that. He was out, of course. Bastard always was when there was trouble. About an hour before dawn, the Ptolemy came. Small contingent, but it was enough. They had a merry time, looting, pillaging, raping a couple of the women who couldn’t get away. I told them what I thought of them.” He
smiled wistfully. “I was full of myself then, thought a few lowbloods standing up could change the world.”

“I bet you kicked his ass,” Lily said, snuggling against him.

Ty snorted. “My mouth was a lot bigger than my ability in those days. I was flat on my back with a blade at my throat in under a minute. Figured my time was up. I was almost happy it was,” he said, his voice dropping. “But then I heard another voice. Arsinöe’s voice, telling them to clear out. You could tell she was angry. Over the years, I saw her get really furious from time to time over the lowblood hunts, but usually she looked the other way. It never really stopped.” He shook his head. “Anyway, she told the vamp with the blade at my throat—Jeremy, his name was—to stand down. She helped me up. Stretched out her own hand and helped me up. Apologized for the cretins she was responsible for and offered me a job. Told the rest not to lay a finger on me under penalty of death.”

Lily frowned. “Weird. That sounds almost compassionate.”

“Aye. She could be, then. But things are changing, and those changes have made her brittle, somehow. The Dracul being accepted into the Council was a big blow to her. She likes the old ways best. I just didn’t realize how much. All I knew was that she made Jeremy drop the knife and gave me a chance at a life that was better than I’d ever had. For a long time, that was enough for me.”

“And now?” Lily asked, already knowing the answer but needing to hear it.

“Now I want more. I have more,” he said, pressing a kiss to her head. “I have you. And you’re saddled with me, whether you want me or not.” He sighed. “The rest of the
freed Cait Sith too. I still can’t believe you want us all. We’re an unruly lot.”

“It’s whether they want
me
, not the other way around,” Lily pointed out. “I understand what I’m meant to do now, but building a new dynasty is going to take some time. I’m going to need a lot of help. And they’re going to have to be patient. Things aren’t going to change overnight. But if they want it…”

“Most do, Lily,” Ty said, soothing her, rubbing circles on her back. She could feel him even in her blood,
their
blood, always a part of her. The intimacy of it was something she didn’t think she’d ever grow tired of.

“My people have been spit upon for a long time, or used up and tossed aside. We’ve always had one another, but to be able to be a part of something bigger, to be valued—hell, to not be called gutter cats anymore, even—it’s worth more than you think to them. And to me.”

“As long as you’re with me,” Lily said softly, “I think we can do this.”

“We can,” Ty said gruffly. “I will be with you. I always will be.”

She curled against him, savoring the slow and steady beat of his heart. He couldn’t know, couldn’t possibly know what he had given her. Power coursed through her like light, like blood. When the change had sparked fire in her veins, Lily had understood herself in a way she had never been able to. The inner struggle she’d become accustomed to living with every moment of every day had fallen away at once and become peace. Ty’s dark kiss had opened the night to her like a flower, and in it, she saw herself as she truly was. She was Lilim. She was Cait Sith. She was his.

Lilith had been right, and so was Ty, in his way. She had broken his chains, and he had in turn been the key to unlocking all of her darkest, most wonderful secrets. Finally, she was free.

So thinking, she rose on her elbows to look at him, tousled and well loved.

Her blood was her destiny. But so was he.

I owe endless thanks to the following people:

Selina McLemore and Latoya Smith—for the enthusiasm, support, and being such a pleasure to work with. This book is the culmination of a lot of dreaming. Thanks for bringing it to life!

Kevan Lyon—for being an awesome agent, and for always telling me, “We’ll get there.” Well, here we are. You’re the best!

Cheryl Brooks, Marie Force, Loucinda McGary, and Linda Wisdom—what on earth would I do without the four of you? Laughs when I need them, understanding when no one else can, and of course, the flying monkeys. Your friendship is golden.

And of course, I couldn’t do any of this without my amazing family. Thanks, now and always, for continuing to put up with me. Not a day goes by that I don’t realize what a lucky girl I am. Love you!

Tipton, Massachusetts

O
N A NIGHT
when only the thinnest sliver of a crescent moon rode the sky, at a time when even the most adventurous humans had fallen into bed and succumbed to sleep, a solitary cat padded in and out of pooled shadow as he made his way across the deserted square in the middle of town. He was large, the size of a bobcat, with sleek fur the color of night. His coat shimmered as he moved, gleaming in the dull glow of streetlights in between shadows, and he moved with speed and grace, if not purpose. Eyes that burned like blue embers stayed focused on the path ahead of him.

The cat had gone by several names in his long life. For more than a century now, he had been simply Jaden, or even more simply, “cat.” He would answer to either, if pressed, and neither if he could get away with it.

Tonight, in the night’s seductive and silent embrace, Jaden answered to no one but himself.

He took his time as he made his way through town, savoring the stillness of it, the blessed lack of humanity with all its noise and emotion and complication. He paused in front of the darkened windows of a beauty salon. Jaden let his gaze drift over the sign, which read C
HARMED
, I’
M
S
URE
, and then lifted his head higher to smell air that was heavy with moisture and ripe with the promise of rain. Summer was making its way to this little corner of New England, though he knew that even in early May the frost could arrive on any given night to give the season’s fresh blooms a deadly kiss.

Deadly kiss, Jaden thought, swishing his tail. Yeah, he knew all about those. When you were a vampire, especially a lowly shape-shifting cat of a vampire, deadly kisses were sort of your stock in trade.

And damn it, so much for a late-night walk to clear his head.

The shift came as easily as breathing to him; in a single heartbeat, Jaden stood on two feet instead of four. He stuffed his hands deeply into the pockets of his coat and continued on down the street, glaring at the ground in front of him as he went. Though he’d spent years silently seething at the Ptolemy, his highblood masters who had treated “pets” like him with little mercy and even less respect, these days he didn’t seem to have much anger for anyone but himself.

He now had what he’d always thought he wanted: friends, a home, and, most important, his freedom. The Ptolemy were not gone, but they were cowed for the time being, and his kind, the much-maligned Cait Sith, had
been chosen for an incredible honor. They were to be the foundation for the rebirth of a dynasty of highbloods that had vanished ages ago, only to resurface in the form of a single mortal woman who carried the blood.

The seven months since Jaden had helped that woman, Lily, make a stand against the Ptolemy had passed quickly. And though it had been considerably less time since the Vampiric Council had given Lily’s plan its grudging blessing, Jaden was now really and truly free. Whether it had been a wise decision, Jaden couldn’t say. The Cait Sith were an unruly lot at best.

But he was grateful, as were the rest. And that had to count for something.

Jaden rubbed at his collarbone without really knowing he was doing it. There, beneath layers of clothing, was his mark, the symbol of his bloodline. Until recently, it had been a coiling knot of black cats. But a drink of Lily’s powerful blood had changed it, adding the pentagram and snake of the Lilim, now encircled by the protective arms of the cat. It meant new abilities he was still exploring, newfound standing in a world where he had always been beneath notice. It should have meant hope, Jaden knew. After all, for the first time in his long life, he was not a pariah. He could be his own master. It should be everything. And yet…