I sighed. “Can’t we just skip the foreplay, darling? I have a headache.”

  Versailles grinned; his curls tickled my chest. ‘We Frenchmen do not rush these things.”

  I anxiously watched, as Versailles strolled to the chest and swept off a bowl. Then he circled me, and I gasped at a cold splash of water against my gut, before the gentlest rub.

  Versailles was bathing me like a baptism — slowly, carefully, and reverentially – with a cloth and water from the basin. The fresh water was soothing, cleaning away the sea-polluted water; the touches were caresses.

  Versailles worked in focused silence, as if I were a precious statue.

  Sodding hell, this wasn’t a baptism; it was washing the body for burial.

  When I startled back, I knocked the basin, and water spilled over Versailles’ coat.

  Versailles patted himself like he was on fire, before chucking the basin — clang — at the far wall. “Enough: it is time. On the night of the full moon, you chose to steal our sacrifice to play at hero. Now, son of Plantagenet—”

  “Hold on a tick, how do you know that I’m also descended from a Long-lived like Plantagenet?”

  “Silence! You treat me like I’m no better than a First Lifer, but I’m centuries older than you and I know more than you ever will.” Versailles’ fangs burst out. “Line of Plantagenet, you lay down your life willingly to feed our god. But first?” His mouth hovered over my abused left nipple, licking and teasing. “You feed me.”

  Then he struck, right over my heart. I howled, arching.

  Blood sharing is the most holy communion between us Blood Lifers. It’s a bond that’s a slice of heaven: rainbow euphoria. Yet Versailles’ blood sharing was a black scream of hell because it wasn’t willing.

  I convulsed, as Versailles sucked. His lips were wet and soft, whilst his fangs sliced deep.

  This wasn’t submission; it was a violation.

  My head dropped back against the pole. I struggled to focus through the dizziness, but Versailles was taking too much blood, too quickly. I tugged on the chains to rattle them and warn Versailles because I was long past the point of speech, but Versailles only worried at my chest harder. Versailles was turning me inside out, slow pull by slow pull… Please stop… I was tumbling into the black… Stop… My eyes flickered closed. Soon there’d be nothing of me left to resist… Christ, don’t let me die like this… And then came the shadows… Stop, stop, stop…

  Clang — and suddenly, everything did stop.

  Versailles’ lips went lax on my chest. There was no more sucking, only the silk of curls on my skin. The dark grayed at the edges, as I clutched onto consciousness, shaking my head side-to-side like a bear.

  I sniffed: Chanel No. 5.

  Why could I smell Kathy?

  Then even the lips and curls disappeared, replaced by Kathy’s fingers pulling at the manacles, as if she could break them by willpower alone.

  My heart beat rapidly, as my eyes smarted with tears. At the end, Kathy had come for me. So what if humanity and love were my weaknesses? They were also my salvation.

  “The manacles are Blood Lifer-proof.” My words came out slurred. “You’ll need the key.”

  Then I was alone again in the swirling gray, awash in confusion.

  Christ in heaven, was this death?

  Please let Kathy have been real and not a figment of my blood-starved brain… Please don’t leave me in the dark…

  Then Kathy’s fingers were back, twisting at the shackles. The moon haloed her in light. Her lip was caught between her teeth, as she unlocked my chains.

  As she freed me.

  I hollered, sliding to the floor of the cabin. The shattered bones in my shoulder, hip, and hand screamed at the movement. Kathy wrapped her arms around me like she’d never let go and like she was terrified that if she did, she’d lose me again.

  Then I allowed the relief to transform to fury. I pushed Kathy back with my good hand. “I told you to pack.”

  Kathy’s gaze was cool. “There’s nothing you can tell me.”

  I studied Versailles (the Blood God’s beautiful representative on earth), sprawled in a puddle of water next to the basin, with which Kathy had knocked him unconsciousness.

  Yeah, nobody told Kathy anything.

  I still fixed her with a glare. “Are the brats safe?”

  “Safe and hidden in their pram on the harbor.”

  “It was bloody dangerous, what you did.”

  Kathy smiled. “Why do only men or Blood Lifers get to be heroes?” She traced down my cheek. “You didn’t forget the dawn, Light. We’re safe.”

  “I hope I’m not interrupting, ma’am,” Maverick’s drawl from the doorway shot me to my feet.

  “Buggering hell.” I staggered, and stars flashed in front of my eyes at the agony. Kathy gripped my shoulders, holding me up. When I struggled to raise my head, I gasped as I saw Joelle snuggled close to Maverick’s chest: a sleeping cherub in the doorway. “Don’t—”

  Maverick held his finger to his lips like the perfect nanny. He followed my glance down at Versailles and grinned. “I reckon that you could stand to be wild, Little Stallion,” he whispered, “and not broken. I admire that in a man.” When he met Kathy’s glare with a smirk, I bared my teeth. “Or a woman.” Maverick raised his eyebrow hopefully.

  To my surprise, Kathy smothered a smile.

  Maverick stepped aside from the doorway. “I guess that you should step out now and take the baby, if you’re not fixing to be here when the Blood God’s representative wakes up mad as a pole cat.”

  I met Maverick’s gaze, and he nodded.

  Maverick truly meant to let us go free? I’d thought that his obsession with owning me or his devotion to his cult and Versailles would run deeper than his offers of love or family. I didn’t trust him, but maybe for once he didn’t want Versailles to succeed in killing the people that he’d chosen to love.

  When I limped towards the door, however, Kathy wobbled, struggling to hold me up.

  Maverick sighed. “I don’t believe that I’ve ever witnessed a sorrier escape attempt.” In one fluid motion, which made Kathy gasp, Maverick passed her Joelle, before hoisting me in a fireman’s carry over his shoulder.

  Humiliating…? I didn’t care because Maverick had made the pain stop.

  I swung once more over Maverick’s back, breathing in the suede and sweat and wondering when I’d submitted to this…to him. When had a psycho Texan come to mean safety. Kathy was a specter behind us, as I was carried off the ship.

  “Why?” I rasped. “Why the bleeding hell are you saving us?”

  “I gave you my word,” Maverick growled, his grip tightening. “A man’s nothing without his word. Plus, anyone who can survive that son of a bitch deserves respect.” He hesitated, before adding, “I offered you something real before, both for your lady and you. I know that you’re not ready for it now but if you ever are, you look me up. Know this though: Versailles’ll never stop hunting you and he’ll never stop killing for his Blood God. He’ll murder Kathy to take your love from you and then he has to finish this ritual. If he can’t find you in time, he’ll find other Plantagenet descendants to kill in your place. He stole my family, and I don’t want to see him steal yours as well.”

  I shivered, horrified by the thought. That night, I’d survived, but I couldn’t simply hide because Versailles would try to strip away everything from me like he’d done to Maverick and make others suffer in my place.

  The only way that I could keep everyone safe would be to hunt the monster, before he hunted me.

  16

  THURSDAY 24th NOVEMBER 1977 PARIS, FRANCE

  My Kathy,

  Do you understand why I slipped away after you saved me from Versailles’ yacht? Do you forgive me?

  Once my bones had knit together again on the pigs’ blood, the kids were united with their mums and dads, and the Blood God’s reapers had sailed on to their next tribute, I couldn’t risk you hunting Versailles again with me after I knew the truth about him.

  I’m not human. I’m a Blood Lifer, but I’m no believer: in the Blood Life Council, ancient Long-liveds, or our Blood Gods. Yet leaving you behind was my ultimate sacrifice because it hurt so bloody much but it was my duty to hunt down Versailles, before he finished the ritual with more innocents…or another Plantagenet.

  Otherwise, we’ll spend our lives jumping at shadows because we’ll never be safe.

  Versailles violated me by stealing my blood and threatening everyone and everything that I love. I have to face the bastard alone. Sometimes when you’re hiding in the wardrobe and the monsters come, the only way to survive is to drag the wankers with you into the dark.

  Tomorrow, I’ll kill a monster, I’ll die, or…I’ll become the monster.

  When you win, you also lose because to gain humanity, you have to shed Blood Life or bury it deep. For a decade, you’ve helped me to walk in your world and to become something more than merely a predator.

  You’re all that I crave to hold in the long dark. You’re my poppy — forevermore. Mine, as I am yours.

  Tomorrow I face my god’s prophet: A dark hero. Yet despite the urge to be seduced, he was never my hero because I have you, and “Heroes” is ours alone. Do you remember when we first heard our song?

  You and I had just arrived in Paris, cocooned in a courtyard restaurant, when “Heroes” had broken out, like an addict’s next hit, in the dark. Our hands had clutched across the tablecloth, and we’d bloody smiled, because we’d saved the world. We were secret heroes, even though we were exiles.

  That’s why it’s our song, and in that moment, we’d been hidden, alone, and safe.

  Deluded.

  Yeah, but it’d been a glorious decade together.

  Now I’m in Paris again as a Blood Lifer, but instead of smiles and music with you, there are fangs and death. Perhaps I’ve only been stalking Versailles up until now because despite everything that he’s done to me, I’m still drawn to him and his offer to become a dark hero for real. No Blood Lifer is meant to be able to resist worshiping him, and every day it becomes more difficult.

  Please remember that you’ve always been my Moon Girl.

  I love you.

  Tomorrow, either Versailles or I will die.

  Your Light

  17

  Versailles held up the black shot of coffee to me like an offering, as if he could see me from where I was hiding behind him in the shadows across the night-time street. “Good evening, little Plantagenet, would you not join me? Don’t catch your death in the cold on my account,” he called, soft and amused.

  “Bugger.” My shoulders hunched.

  All those times that I’d thought Versailles had been watching me or playing with me, I’d been right: he’d been a hunter for much longer than I had. It didn’t matter how relaxed he looked, sprawled like a prince at the café, he’d never been vulnerable.

  Casual as you like, Versailles rocked — squeak, squeak, squeak — a pram. A First Lifer in a wine-red coat smiled at him, like he was Dad of the Year who she’d also like to screw, rather than the killer that he was. My heart thundered, as I crushed my nails into my palms. If I couldn’t stop Versailles tonight, he’d kill those kids as a sacrifice to his god.

  I scanned the pavement café: Versailles was alone. There was no sign of the clawed triplets, Maverick, or any of the other worshipers who usually flocked around him. Versailles must have set this up.

  Screech — Versailles pushed out the chair next to him with his foot.

  If he wanted me out of the shadows, then he could sodding well have me.

  I stalked to the table, throwing myself down in the chair and then crossing my arms.

  The First Lifer caught my eye, before wrinkling her nose disapprovingly, as if I must be the British black sheep of the family. She shot Versailles a sympathetic glance.

  Versailles grimaced, as if to say what can you do?

  I traced the pad of my thumb over the cutlery knife, which pricked my skin.

  Versailles’ tongue wet his bow lips. “Such a temptation you are.”

  I slammed down the knife. “Let me guess, you’re not here to hand over those kids?” Versailles rolled the pram closer, like a treat or a slap in the face. I snatched for the pram’s handle, but Versailles rolled the pram back, shushing the babies’ non-existent fussing, as he tucked them tighter in their blankets. “Don’t bloody touch them.”

  Versailles’ fingers paused in their binding. His gaze remained cool, but he shook. “Amusing. You play the hero just as well as you play the knave because you are neither.” When he spider walked his pale hand across the tablecloth towards me and squeezed our fingers together, I shuddered. “You’re a Blood Lifer.”

  I tried to shake my hand free. “Cheers, I had noticed.”

  “Yet you flee our world to live as a First Lifer, whilst veiling your true face and power.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’ve heard all this power bollocks before. I’m not one to be tempted, mate.”

  Versailles tightened his hand around mine, and my knuckles cracked. “I’ve always observed that he who protests the most, hides the most. What truth do you hide?”

  I tried to wrench back my hand again, but bleeding hell was Versailles strong. “I’m not—”

  “You’re always hiding,” Versailles hissed. His eyes blazed. “Even on a hunt. Didn’t you think that I could sense you?”

  I was sweating, shaking, and shivering. My blood pounded, as if he was calling to it. “I don’t—”

  “Alone, poor child,” Versailles’ murmur was so sad that I suddenly realized that he was talking about himself, as much as me, “alone in the dark.”

  “I’m not…” When I jumped up, Versailles wrenched me down again, and my shoulder socket screamed.

  The First Lifers whispered behind their hands as they cast us scandalized glances.

  “No one has escaped blood sacrifice twice. Your blood is,” Versailles’ eyes rolled back with the memory, “exquisite. There’s no need for you to be alone or hide ever again.” His words wound through me like binding silk. My eyes pricked with tears: don’t say it, please, don’t say… “We can be your family, and Maverick can have…something that I can’t give him. Think what we can offer: we’ll train you and show you the world, as I know you once saw it. Do not pretend to be a saint, when once you were the devil.”

  I’d never be on the outside looking in ever again. Instead, I’d become a true Blood Lifer once again…

  “Why me?” I couldn’t force out more than a whisper.

  Versailles gave a sharp yank, and our faces were suddenly close. Versailles’ breath gusted against my mouth. He was so sinfully beautiful that even now it made me gasp. “You must bow before the Blood God, but I’ll pardon you, if you refuse to bow before me. Do you know how rare it is for me to be surprised and yet rarer to find anyone who won’t submit? It’s been a delectable treat to be hunted for once and how much more delectable it’ll be when we hunt together.”

  I panted, as my fangs ached to descend…to hunt at the side of this powerful Long-lived as an equal.

  Every human in the café stank of blood. I craved to rip and rent and savage.

  Versailles chuckled. “See? We are the same.” I blinked, ice-cold. Versailles lowered a single fang, slicing his tongue. I arched at the scent: rich and ancient. Versailles’ eyes promised pain and punishment, yet he purred, “My child.”

  Then he pulled me closer, offering his lips and blood to seal the bargain.

  I flicked my tongue against his. The blood burst like…home.

  I screwed closed my eyes, savoring — just for a moment longer — Versailles’ closeness and taste. Then I buried the cutlery knife through Versailles’ heart.

  “I’m a Blood Lifer,” I growled, “but I’m not a monster.”

  Versailles held me tightly as he died. I didn’t push him away, even as screams rippled through the First Lifers at the knifing. When Versailles stared up at me with his intent indigo gaze, I leant closer to hear his murmured words.

  Versailles was praying to his Blood God, and for the first time, I wished that I believed she was real.

  Finally, Versailles’ fingers loosened in mine, and I pulled back, laying Versailles gently onto the floor. Somehow, I didn’t want to leave him there in the cold, but he wasn’t mine because I’d abandoned him. I’d chosen instead the babies who bawled in their pram

  What if I took just one back for Kathy? I hated the tears on my cheeks and wiped them away with the back of my sleeve.

  Family. Why did I have to lose everything? If I took one of the kids, then Kathy and I…

  I drew in my breath. Kathy would boot me in the bleeding bollocks, if I returned to her with a baby in my arms. Sighing, I glanced around the café.

  The First Lifer in the wine-red coat was frozen in her seat with the tart still half-raised to her mouth uneaten.

  I rolled the pram towards her. “Take good care of them,” I muttered. I couldn’t wait around for the police to arrest me, and she looked as good a First Lifer as any to trust. “I’d have made a blinding dad for them.”

  I gulped a mouthful of strong coffee from the cup Versailles had offered me. It was cold. Then I prowled away from the slain peacock and the panicked First Lifers.

  Never had victory tasted so bittersweet. Of course, that could’ve been the coffee.

  I don’t know how long I sprinted in the black away from my murder of both the wickedly beautiful monster and my dreams. At last, I fell onto the grass of a square. I gazed up at the stars; the scent of oranges and stone swallowed me. The tinkle of fountains was a lullaby. I curled on my side with my face pressed to the grass. Each blade felt like an accusation.

  Suddenly, I glanced up: a shadow and cowboy boots…Maverick.

  Bollocks.

  Unsteady, I uncurled, forcing myself onto my elbows.

  When I wobbled, Maverick caught me. “Easy there, Little Stallion.” He lay me down, brushing my hair back from my forehead.

  Warily, I eyed Maverick, as he hurled himself down, lounging next to me like a lion: relaxed but deadly. We lay in silence. I didn’t dare move, but I peeked around the square, between the oak trees and honey stone townhouses, counting the Blood Lifers in the shadows.

 

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