“And what do we have here?”
His smooth, gentle, deep voice stopped Lucien dead in his tracks, and David paled. The newcomer whipped out an arm and grabbed Aristotle so abruptly that he was unable to make a sound.
My entire soul sobbed in relief, and a single, bitter tear trickled down my face. “Sembur! You came.”
His face remained stony, and his eyes ice cold, but his lips curved into the barest hint of a genuine grin for me.
David turned around, dropping me on the way. I looked at the vampire that could have been my twin brother with his fiery, ice blue eyes and shoulder length, pitch-black hair. A casual hand, almost boundless in strength, held Aristotle by the throat. Aristotle clawed at the fingers that held him in a crushing grip. I noted with mild interest that it was the first time I had ever seen him go pale and actually look a little bit frightened.
The turn of the century, sadistic jerk twitched and struggled under that cast iron grip. Lucien and David looked poised to strike, as though they expected the drama to last minutes instead of seconds.
They didn’t seem to realize that this didn’t start out as a fair fight and certainly wasn’t going to finish as one.
Sembur smiled at me, love shining bright in his beautiful, slightly demonic eyes. “I heard you, Crowley. I came.”
With almost a casual gesture, he threw Aristotle into the flames, as Lucien and David watched, frozen with horror. Aristotle did not have time to scream as the volatile vampire’s blood in his body caught fire.
A white hot ball of flame roared and jetted into the cool night air above the sandstone building. Aristotle writhed and thrashed, no more than a matchstick man of flame, his skin melting and running down the remains of his body. He finally found his rapidly disappearing voice and screamed. It continued until he sounded thick and hoarse, and finally finished in a dry heaving of soot.
A pale and shaken Lucien recovered his strength. He gave David a desperate glance, and I knew he was about to do something incredibly stupid. David looked affronted, mixed with a kind of sick desperation, since he knew they were clutching at straws. They would not live beyond the next few seconds, let alone escape.
Lucien carelessly dropped my broken lover, and as one they lunged toward my maker.
Sembur smiled and shook his head. It was futile for them to even try it. Like me, Sembur did not like killing things, even ones as disgusting as that pair of morons, but they intended terrible harm to him if left unchecked, so his only option was self defense. I had no idea if Sembur would have let them escape if they hadn’t lunged toward him, but in the end, that really didn’t matter. Before either knew what hit them, they were sailing toward the bonfire, howling in terror.
I winced as a twin conflagration sprang into being. I crawled to my knees, stomach threatening to expel its very lining as the quiet of the night was shattered again by screams of agony as skin melted from bone. Finally, mercifully, cries were silenced as vocal cords were seared away, and bone was finally reduced to ash.
David was gone. Finally gone. Looking deep inside myself, I found nothing. Whatever he had done to me in life had been so long ago it was truly just a memory. All the dislike I’d felt for him after death came from him being simply himself, an arrogant, shallow, self-absorbed man.
I didn’t hear or see Sembur come up behind me to pull me into his arms. He cradled me, holding me tight against his cool body as my sobs finally came. I slipped my arms around him and once again felt his hard muscle, smooth skin, and stubbly cheek resting against my head. I had been strong for so long, it felt good to let go a little. A small, nagging voice at the back of my head yammered about Brownyn, and I didn’t want to quiet or soothe it anymore. I felt like she had—I could make it through eternity by myself, but it would be nowhere near as fun without her by my side.
“My beloved Crowley.” Sembur’s words were gentle and heartfelt.
I could not stop myself and did not want to. This was the only man I had ever really loved. I leant up, and we kissed long and deep, tasting one another.
“Sembur.”
“Shhh, little one, don’t speak.” He paused for a moment. “I couldn’t let them kill you. I still don’t want you to die, nor will I help you do it to yourself ever again.” He gestured toward Bronwyn, who lay on the ground not three feet from us. “There is time, but first I must help you.”
He delicately nicked his wrist with his sharp fangs and held it to my lips.
The sheer fountain of power radiating from his blood was indescribable. Greedily, I lapped every last drop I could before the wound closed. The ancient blood, so powerful, so humbling in its purity, flowed into my system, and I moaned as every nerve ending sprang to attention. It was what was needed to heal my beloved Bronwyn.
I slumped to the floor, sighing, allowing the dizziness to pass.
“Allenby?”
“Kilkenny is with him.”
I nodded. “A life for a life. Your promise.”
He smiled. “Still my impatient youngling.” His tone was playful, but his flaming blue eyes met mine, and in them I saw fathomless patience and knowledge, shadowed by a horrible, dark wisdom that he had gained through millennia of existence. He had lived a span no one could truly imagine, and it seemed to me that the years had begun to take their toll on him.
My maker. Sembur.
I gestured toward Bronwyn. “I love her. You were right.” She lay still, and although her vampiric blood had closed the wound, she was still horribly injured. Sembur’s blood would heal her. I could not think it would fail, and would not allow myself to acknowledge any other possibilities until we had tried it.
He laughed softly. “There is always a reason to keep going. For me it was Kilkenny. For you it is Bronwyn.”
I met his eyes with gratitude, and he leaned forward to caress my face with his gentle, iron fingers. “You have re-learnt faith. At last.”
It was true. I could finally face my future. It had always seemed a long, black road ahead of me, covered in thin ice, but thanks to Bronwyn, that had changed.
“Help her, please.” I was begging him for the second time in my life. The first had been when he gave me the gift of his blood.
“She must drink from you first.”
I thought about this. It was true—I had to be the one to heal her. I nodded. “Let’s begin.”
With trembling hands, I reached for my motionless lover and cradled her to my body, gently tracing the outline of her still cheek.
Her face was mercifully undamaged, but there was clotted blood in her hair on the slightly flat side of her head that made me shudder and quail inside. She was a dead weight in my arms, and I really couldn’t tell if it was too late for her, since she no longer breathed. Her eyes were closed, her skin pale to the point of translucence, her muscles slack. She was so lifeless, but Sembur had assured me it was not too late—I could still heal her.
“I love you, Bronwyn.” Truer words had never been spoken.
I nicked a wrist and held it to her lips.
The most basic vampire reflex sprang into play, and she latched onto the blood I offered her. As Sembur’s freshly consumed blood flowed from my body into hers, I welcomed the pain with open arms.
I could feel the shattered flesh and bone of her head knit together, sealing her dreadful wounds. She drained me almost to the last drop, and I pulled away from her, whimpering, weak as a kitten. I only barely noticed my crystal tears dripping onto her pale skin, as I leaned down to pull her wrist to my mouth so I could feed from her. My teeth broke her clean skin, and there was a jet of hot blood that went straight back into my throat, a hard slap of life. I felt myself grow stronger again, as she became dead weight in my arms, drained almost to the point of death. Sated, I pulled back slightly, feeling a thin sliver of pain from the nick I had put in my wrist so I could feed her again.
As she sucked in my blood in great drafts, her muscles firmed and she gained control over them, although she was still unconscious. The blessed relief I felt as I watched torn flesh become whole again almost stopped me from being able to pull my wrist away from her mouth before she drained me to the last drop.
Sembur left us to feed, to replace the blood I had taken from him, and to give us some privacy. Alone, with only the still crackling, demonic flame to keep us company, I held my wounded lover until she stirred. Her eyes fluttered open, and once again full of blessed life, her gaze held mine and swallowed me whole. I was so wrapped up in her gentle regard that I almost didn’t notice that her eyes burned with bright, green flames.
“My angel.”
Those whispered words brought more tears to my eyes.
“Bronwyn.”
She shifted in my arms so she was more comfortable. “I’m okay.
What happened?”
“It’s a long story. Aristotle happened. Then Sembur happened.”
Despite her weakness, Bronwyn stiffened in my arms. “Sembur is here? How did he find us?”
“I asked him for help, and he came, but he’s not here at the moment. He went to feed.”
“I want to meet him.”
“You will.” I paused, trying to frame what I had to say next.
“Bronwyn, I’m sorry. For everything. I never meant for any of this to happen to you.”
Bronwyn smiled. “We’re both still alive, aren’t we? If you really wanted to die we’d both be dead by now. I knew you were going to weasel your way out of trouble somehow, I just had to trust you.”
She ran a finger down my cheek. “I love you and I forgive you. I am with you by my choice and my choice alone, so forget the guilt trip.”
I kissed her. She held me tight, tracing the muscles of my back under my torn shirt.
“Bronwyn.”
My lover yelped in surprise at the soft male voice.
I looked up at the smiling face of my mentor and grinned. “Sembur.
Still enjoy shocking the hell out of people?”
Sembur shrugged and looked apologetic as Bronwyn gnashed her teeth in frustration. It was quite clear she thought she’d struck another bloody Crowley.
I exchanged an amused look with him as Bronwyn heaved a deep sigh.
Sembur studied the stars and then looked closely at me. I nodded.
I could feel the pull of rapidly approaching dawn.
“We’d better get out of here,” I said, remembering the carnage that was once Bronwyn’s and my home.
“Our place is trashed.” Bronwyn looked at me and sighed. She struggled to sit up, closing her eyes against the dizziness that threatened to steal her balance.
“I know.” I gave her a crooked grin. “When was the last time you went camping?”
She frowned. “You mean, sleep outside? We can do that? I thought we had to sleep on the ground we were buried in.”
“Well, yeah, you have to sleep underground so you don’t get a sunburn. Not all vampires have to sleep in the earth they’re buried in. You don’t—you didn’t get buried, remember? Besides, could you imagine lugging around a whacking great coffin stuffed with dirt for the rest of your unnatural existence?”
Relief glowed in Bronwyn’s eyes. She nodded. “Yes, I did notice I never ended up in a pine box. I was kinda wondering about that.”
She paused. “But I was also kind of curious about what you would’ve picked out for me.”
I gave her a calculated look. “How about something bright red?
With wheels and a windscreen painted on to it? You could race the hearse to the cemetery.”
Bronwyn winced. “I don’t think so. Bright red? Because you think red ones go faster? What do I look like, a blonde?” She leaned forward, fiery eyes twinkling. “Everybody knows silver cars go faster than red ones.”
I chuckled. “Is that right?”
Bronwyn looked thoughtful. “Absolutely!” She gave me a sharp glance. “Don’t go there. We are
not
trying it.”
I grinned and opened my mouth to respond, but Sembur’s strong hands on each of our shoulders stopped me. “You may stay with me, if you like.”
Bronwyn looked pathetically grateful. “You have place for us to sleep?”
“Yes, of course. I have a spare pair of shovels—large ones—so you can dig a shallow grave in my vegetable patch.” He leaned toward me. “Please watch out for the carrots, and try not to kill the tomatoes, I only just planted them.”
I smiled gratefully. “Well, looks like that’s settled, then.” I nodded in satisfaction. “We happily accept your offer.”
Bronwyn’s mouth was a perfect O of horror. She looked at me as though I’d lost my mind, and shot Sembur a respectful look, the type that was reserved for childless uncles with lots of money and no marbles.
I managed to keep a straight face for a few more seconds until Sembur’s snicker made me laugh outright.
Bronwyn realized she’d been had and collapsed back on the ground, sighing, as Sembur and I laughed.
“Come,” said Sembur. “I think it’s time to go to ground.”
I nodded. “Sounds good to me.” I held out my hand for Bronwyn.
She took it and levered herself up off the floor.
“How are we going to get back to your place?” she asked, tangling her hand with mine as Sembur walked ahead of us, leading us to the sacristy and out of the church.
I squinted against the lightening sky. “We had better move.”
Sembur glanced at me and nodded. He gestured toward my car, parked before us, I noted with some amazement. “I think Allenby liked your car.”
I wrinkled my nose in disgust. “Do you mean he drove it?”
Sembur shrugged. “At least he did not destroy it.”
“Where’s your current hideout?” I asked.
“I’ll lead you to it,” he said, slowly dissolving into mist form and surrounding the sports car.
We got in and a ball of mist—mercifully not clouding the windscreen—surrounded us with a distinctly supernatural air. It did not disperse as we drove, a silent Bronwyn watching it with great interest.
I was geographically confused and trusted my mentor to lead us to his home. After fifteen minutes of high speed driving, we reached Sembur’s home. The wrought iron gates that marked the edge of his estate were wide open, and as we pulled up in front of the house we caught a quick glimpse of Kilkenny, an almost comatose Allenby slung over her shoulder disappearing into the house.