Chapter 25 #2
“It’s more than love.”
“I know that as well.”
“Then why are you here, Nora?”
“What does my daughter know about the night Anita died?”
The question freezes the blood in my veins.
Anita.
The night everything went to hell. Where I had to sacrifice the only thing I truly cared about until that very moment.
“Whatever your husband told her.”
Which is a lie. Emil told her Vlad killed Anita in cold blood.
But that’s not what happened.
“How could you just not tell her?” There’s accusation in her voice now, and I deserve it.
I snort. “Again, I was going to tell her the entire story and come clean.”
“She will have a hard time accepting everything, especially because you hid his existence.”
His.
My brother.
The word sits heavy in my mind, weighted with centuries of guilt and grief.
My brother. The one Vlad turned after me. The one who was supposed to be my companion, my equal, my family.
The one who killed Anita.
And the one who let Vlad take the blame.
“He’s not a problem anymore.” The words taste like ash in my mouth.
“I still don’t understand why the Original took the blame.”
Because he loved us. Because he saw us as his children, his sons.
Because he knew that if the hunters found out the truth—that it was Oliver, not Vlad—they’d hunt us all down.
So he took the blame. He let them hate him. He went into hiding and let the world believe he was the monster everyone believed he was.
All to protect us. Me.
“I guess he saw us as his children.”
“Do you love her?” Nora asks, looking straight in my eyes.
The question should be easy. The answer should be immediate. But the weight of it, the enormity of what she’s really asking. Do I love her enough to tell her the truth? Do I love her enough to die for her?
“With every fiber of my body.”
“Good.”
“What is Emil planning?”
“He’s drinking vampire blood, lots of it, so he’s not really planning anything,” she says, shaking her head. “He’s going insane.”
I knew it.
My eyes widen as the full implications hit me.
Vampire blood is addictive. It gives humans strength and speed and healing, but it also drives them mad.
Eventually, they lose themselves completely.
“You need to save yourself and take Talulla with you.”
“This is why I can’t hate you, Flynn,” she starts, her hands gripping the bars. She knows I won’t touch her. Even if she’s right there, at arm’s reach. “You still want my daughter’s life to be saved and don’t care for yours.”
Of course I don’t care about mine. My life ended six hundred years ago. Talulla is alive. Full of light and fire and everything good in this world. “She deserves to live just like she did twenty-two years ago.”
She nods. “Yes, she deserves happiness even if that means being with you.” The words hit me harder than any weapon could.
“Is this your way of saying you approve of us?”
“This is my way of saying that you’re her best shot at getting out of here alive.”
Practical. This isn’t about approval or acceptance. This is about survival.
“How am I going to do that behind silver bars and without my daylight ring?”
Nora smiles, and fuck, it warms my dead heart because she looks even more like Talulla when she smiles.
“You have no faith in me, Lancaster, don’t you worry. I got you covered.”
“No.” The word comes out sharp, panicked.
Because I know what she’s planning.
“Talulla is your best shot and you know it.”
“Talulla can get hurt while trying to do something extremely stupid like come here and free me.”
She will. I know she will. She’ll come charging in here with no plan, no backup, just pure determination and love.
And she’ll get herself killed.
“Again, I admire your worry for my daughter, but she’s a tough cookie and you know it.”
I do. God, I do.
But tough doesn’t mean invincible.
“I don’t like this idea at all.”
“Just tell her the truth, Flynn, she deserves the entire truth so that she can decide for herself.”
That I can agree on. “I will.”
“This will turn into a massacre, I know you know that, just—”
“She’ll get out of here alive,” I finish her sentence before she can.
I’ll make sure of it. Even if I have to die to do it.
Talulla will survive.
Nora simply nods and leaves.
The door closes behind her with a soft click, and I’m alone again.
I don’t understand why Emil would do all this just to get Vladimir’s location. He knows he didn’t kill his mother, and yet, he made it his life mission to get to this point.
To get to madness.
Just for the thirst of the kill.
He became the one thing he despises the most.
The irony would be funny if it wasn’t so tragic.
Emil Popescu, the great vampire hunter, has become a being that kills just for the sake of killing. For the thrill.
Just like the vampires he’s spent his life hunting.
I snort for just a moment, the sound bitter and hollow in the empty cell. “And I’m sure he says it’s for the greater good,” I whisper to myself. “How fucking hypocritical of him.”
They kill in the name of the greater good. They torture and maim and destroy, all while telling themselves they’re the heroes.
But they’re not. They’re just monsters with better PR.
And Emil has become the worst of them all.
The kind that doesn’t even realize what he’s become.