Chapter 17
LEAH
“Julian, right?”
Marcus’s brother reminds me of a brittle blade. His blond hair is shorn short to his scalp, and he has a straight, narrow nose. Pale stubble covers his jaw, nearly a beard. His features are sharper than Marcus’s. He is leaner. Taller. His eyes are backlit with madness.
He is what my parents saw before they died.
“I’m honored, slayer.” His gaze crawls over my face, then my body, and I tense. “I brought you a present.”
My mind is churning, barely hearing his words.
“I don’t need presents from murderers.”
His eyes light with amusement. My teeth grit.
He killed my parents. He was the one crouched over them like an animal.
Did he smile then too? I grasp at the anger, pushing it to the forefront.
Anger helps me. Fear does not. I force myself to relive each moment of their deaths, the memories burning like acid inside me.
“You’re angry at me.” He sounds nearly delighted.
I’m so mad my hands shake. My slayer instincts push my weight to my toes, urging me to leap the wall, before I tense.
Wait for Marcus.
I can’t kill Julian alone. Not if he’s stronger than his brother. The force it takes to restrain myself makes my words come out as a growl. “Tell me what you came for.”
“A present. I told you. You seem suspiciously lacking in presents.” He shakes his head. “My brother was never one for wooing.”
“Marcus isn’t wooing me.”
“That’s apparent, given your general lack of finery.”
I scowl, wishing I’d worn pants and a bra under my sleep shirt. “To the point, vampire.”
His hand dips into his cloak and comes up with a single apple. It’s perfect. Red as blood and shining in the light of the remaining day.
I can scent it from here. It smells like tropical fruit.
My limbs tremble. An Adam’s apple. Named as such because all supernaturals know that men are the only ones foolish enough to eat an apple that purports to grant your heart’s desire.
Even if the apple is powerful, the caveats are a mile long.
Most die after eating them. Stories say that only someone with a pure heart will get their heart’s desire.
No supernatural could claim to have a pure heart.
At one point in my life, I thought an Adam’s apple could solve all my problems. I hunted relentlessly for one, until I learned they can’t give true life back to the dead. His gaze is coolly mocking, like he knows the little fruit was once all I wanted.
“Not interested.” I unsheathe my stake.
Julian pouts and pockets the fruit. “I am very rich. And very resourceful. I’m a far better choice than my brother. You would have finery with me. Pants, even.” He grins at the last, and I scowl. He’s attempting to be charming in an all the better to eat you with kind of way. Like a petulant child.
I grip my weapon and scan the distance between us.
Julian is fifteen steps away and he’s not testing the wards.
Marcus is certain I can’t take him alone, but if he attacks, he may be able to break them.
I grimace and barely keep my gaze from going to the house.
I need to keep him talking while I plan, and I don’t need him to know that Marcus is still asleep.
“I wasn’t aware that it was a competition.” I keep my words idle, not letting any of the hatred I feel for him through, even as my mind spins.
His eyes spark, silver threading through the black. “You are very powerful. He doesn’t deserve you.” He extends a hand, wiggles his fingers. “Come with me and I’ll give you whatever you want. You could even have true immortality, not simply the long life of a slayer.”
My breath is raw in my lungs. What I want is for my parents to be alive. I pull my dagger from my belt with my other hand. “I belong to neither of you, and I have everything I want.”
“But you can always have more.” His frame goes taut. I tense. The slayer sixth sense I have screams that he’s going to attack. I can’t wait any longer. Marcus isn’t coming and this might be my only chance. My limbs tremble and my vision tunnels.
“Be with me, Leah. Not him.”
“Never.”
I hurl myself at him, leaping into the air, over the wall, blade and stake extended, clearing eight feet.
I have one shot at him. One moment of surprise.
He pivots, and I pivot with him, twisting in the air as I fall, a half second behind.
My blade glances off his shoulder, and I land, rolling into a crouch.
Jumping was a mistake. A foolish, rookie mistake, brought on by anger and my need for vengeance.
Think, Leah. This isn’t you. I’m a careful planner, not a hothead.
Julian angles himself toward me, like a hunter sighting prey.
I back swiftly into the pool of sunlight at the edge of the forest, my gaze darting.
Two stakes, one blessed silver dagger, no spells.
No fire globes, no powdered ash, no chains.
A Goddess-blessed dagger through the heart won’t kill him, but it will slow him.
Only a stake will do that, which means I need to be close enough to bury it in his chest.
Shit. I should have gone into the house. Julian’s eyes light as he seems to realize the same thing. I should have let him break the wards and dealt with the backlash.
He stalks forward. I hurl the dagger. He blurs and snarls, avoiding it. I draw my other stake and ready myself for his attack.
A low growl sounds from behind him, and in the space between exhale and inhale, Marcus vaults the wall and clears fifteen feet, skin burning, and takes his brother to the ground.