Chapter 51
Fifty-One
“We’ve already won,” Cally whispered, pushing her hand into his and squeezing tight. “Why can’t you just not fight him?”
They made their way through Roberto’s house toward the basement, the heels she’d borrowed from Belle loud against the polished wooden floor.
Tall windows either side framed nothing but night, the glass throwing back reflections of the vampires that walked with them.
However quiet she was, they would hear. But she had to ask.
This was a nightmare. An insane risk to take.
“Because Roberto knows how to play the game,” Antoine said grimly. “If I refuse, I look weak, and then I open myself to challenges from every quarter.”
“From vampires less strong than him,” Cally pressed, trying to ignore those nearby who were clearly eavesdropping.
“A vampire does not refuse a challenge, ma chérie.”
“That’s ego talking,” she muttered.
He stopped and turned toward her, making her stop too, then leaned in close until his lips brushed her ear. “I called this assembly by the Code. If I flinch from the same Code when it’s thrown back at me, I make myself the hypocrite.”
“He’ll kill you,” she breathed back, the words catching in her throat. “You’re going to die, just to prove you’re not a hypocrite?”
“If I refuse, Roberto will use that to undermine everything we’ve fought for tonight.”
“The vote was clear!” she hissed. “‘Entomb him,’ they chanted.”
“If I show cowardice, it only strengthens his position.” His breath caressed her cheek. “Who would then stand up to him and enforce this punishment?”
“Belle.”
“She declared herself an impartial observer. She cannot go back on that now.”
“But her testimony!”
“It was a bluff, ma chérie. She can do nothing here. No, only the Boston Vampires have the power to act, and they will not do so without a rally point.”
They were alone in the hallway, the other vampires having passed by, and Cally pulled back, reaching up to cup his cheek, his beard coarse against her palm. “I don’t give a fuck about Roberto. It’s you I love! It’s you I can’t bear to lose! If you die, it will kill me too.”
“That is no longer true,” he said gently, taking her hand and brushing his lips against her knuckles. “You have your magic now. Even if I were not here, you could spend your power before it kills you.”
“I don’t mean my magic. I mean my heart. I don’t want to live without you, don’t you see?” Tears had formed in her eyes, and she dashed them away angrily. “I’m asking you to not do this.”
He stilled in that way of his when she surprised him, then his jaw tightened. “Very well,” he said at last, the words devoid of emotion. “Because you ask it of me, I will concede once I have shown Roberto is not infallible.”
She flinched at his tone, guilt burning in her throat like bile. She knew what it cost him to make that promise, but wasn’t his life more important than his pride? “You think he’ll stop if you do? Will he accept surrender?”
“If I make it convincing,” Antoine said grimly. “By then I will hopefully have done enough to steel the spines of my fellow vampires. Roberto will be entombed this night.”
She stiffened against him. “This isn’t about honor, is it? This is about vengeance. You could walk away, but you don’t want to.”
“I will fight him because not doing so would endanger us more. If I do not do this, his claim on you will stand as an echo, inviting others to try the same.”
“You’re doing this for me?” She searched his face. “Bullshit. Also, I don’t care—hell, we could just leave and be done with it all!”
“I am sorry, ma chérie,” he said, voice low. “I do not expect you to understand.”
“I understand only too well,” she replied bitterly. “But I won’t stand by and see you die tonight.”
“Then I will do my best not to.” A small smile tugged at his lips. “You did promise I could ravish you if I survived. What more incentive does a man need?”
“At least take my blood,” she said, tilting her head and offering her neck. “You need all the strength you can get.”
Antoine paused for a heartbeat, then nodded. “That would be helpful, thank you.”
His arms closed around her again, his lips pressing to the side of her neck, and she braced herself for the sting of his bite. “Take as much as you can, my love.”
She muffled her gasp as his fangs pierced her skin. He drank deeply, drawing her blood in a rush that triggered an answering flood of pleasure. Her fingers clenched in his shirt, and there was desperation in the act—for her, if not for him, too. Was this the last time he’d ever feed from her?
He licked the wound and drew back. “Thank you, ma chérie. I will do my best not to fail you.”
“Now give me yours,” she said, reaching for his wrist.
He resisted. “You intend to try your spell again.”
“You’re damn right.”
“Last time, my blood was too painful for you.”
“Yeah, but I know what to expect now.” She tugged, but his arm held firm. “Damn it, Antoine,” she hissed. “You don’t get to risk yourself and then claim moral superiority! Give me your blood.”
He hesitated for so long that she thought he would refuse, then he lifted his arm, pushed back the sleeve of his jacket, and unbuttoned his shirt cuff. “I am no less enthused about you risking your life than you are about me risking mine.”
“Then we both need to survive, don’t we?”
He tugged his sleeve back to reveal his bare arm, then bit deeply into the vein in his wrist. “After the conversation we just had, I suppose it would do me no good to ask you to reconsider.”
“Are you still going to fight Roberto?”
“Yes,” he said slowly. “I am.”
“Then no. It won’t do any good.” She dipped her fingertips in the blood, then drew a swift circle over her heart, above the neckline of her dress. Antoine unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it back, and she painted a red circle on his chest.
That was the easy bit.
Bracing herself, Cally took his wrist in her hands and lowered her mouth. This wasn’t the time for half measures and she swallowed fast, trying to get as much of his blood inside her as she could before the metallic taste and hot rush of it made her gag.
“Easy, ma chérie. Remember what happened last time.”
It was at the forefront of her mind, but if he was going to fight Roberto, he needed all the power he could get. This wasn’t a case of sip-and-see; she’d be damned if the spell worked but she couldn’t give him all he needed.
“That’s enough,” Antoine said, but she clung on and managed another swallow before he pulled his wrist away. He stared at her with worry as he rebuttoned his cuff. “Are you all right?”
Cally turned away, wiping at her face. The blood on her lips smeared across her cheeks, but she had nothing with which to clean herself.
Her stomach churned, but that was more her nausea at the metallic, salty taste in her mouth than the beginnings of the pain yet to come.
“I’m fine. They’re waiting for you, and we’ve been up here long enough as it is. ”
“I don’t wish to leave you,” he said quietly.
“I know. I’ll be right behind you as soon as—” She winced as her stomach spasmed. “Go. Go now. Please.”
“Are you certain?”
It was strange how his concern only now outweighed his immediate desire for vengeance. But it was too late; he’d made his decision, and she understood why. And she’d made hers. “I’m certain,” she said, the words ending in a gasp as she clutched at her stomach. “Go, Antoine.”
“I will see you soon,” he said, then left in a blur of speed.
The air rushed past her to fill the gap of his presence, and Cally cried out as her stomach knotted so violently, it felt like she was imploding.
She fell against the wall, one hand out to support herself, the other nursing her midsection, and slumped to one knee.
The pain was as excruciating as it had been in his basement apartment, a burning ache that doubled her over, then stabbing pains that felt like they were ripping her apart. And she had taken on so much more of his blood.
I have to get to the basement.
She forced herself up and staggered two steps, her blood-stained hand leaving a smear across a windowpane. But even that was too much. The hallway was empty, the stairs only a dozen feet ahead, but they may as well have been in the next state.
Another stab radiated through her, and she fell with a whimper, this time to hands and knees. Breathing hard as she tried desperately not to throw up the precious blood she’d drunk. She needed every drop of it. She knelt on all fours, trembling, waiting for the spasms to ease.
If she had to crawl all the way, she would. One hand forward, one knee. Belle’s stupid dress didn’t make it any easier. There was no strength left in her arms, and she could barely hold herself up.
The floor wavered beneath her, and she braced against the wall, waiting for the sensation to pass. She gritted her teeth. Maybe a brief rest, then she would push on. She had to get to Antoine, but her body was failing her.
Her eyes fluttered closed. She didn’t have time to sleep. Why wouldn’t they open?