Chapter Thirty-One
Sage
I'm twenty minutes early when I pull into the empty lot. The place looks like it's been abandoned for years—rusting fences, busted windows, weeds swallowing the cracked pavement. Not exactly welcoming, but black-market drops don't always happen in bright shopping centers on sunny days.
I step out into the rain and scan the shadows. Nothing moves. It's just an exchange, I tell myself. Weapon for payment. In and out.
Inside, the air reeks of wet wood and old oil. The light is dim, filtered through dirty windows, the storm outside dulling everything to gray. What's left here is rotting or rusted, scraps of industry long forgotten.
I find a relatively clean stretch of bench and sit, hands clasped tight, forcing myself to breathe past the rise of anxiety clawing at my throat. Minutes stretch, heavy and slow. Then, fifteen of them dragged out, the outer door creaks open.
I'm on my feet instantly, hand at the gun tucked at my waistband.
The figure stepping inside isn't who I expected.
"Darlene," I say, leveling the barrel at her chest.
She scoffs, almost amused. "What? You're going to shoot me just like that? Cold-blooded?"
"You shot Winston. Just like that," I snap back, my grip steady.
Her eyes harden, but her voice stays calm. "I did. In retaliation. Not cold murder."
"Dress it up however you want, it doesn't change the fact you killed an innocent."
"Rich, coming from you. You're about to trade the engagement ring Darius gave you for a weapon meant to kill him. Sweet little Sage, young made-nymph. Oh, how wrong we were about you."
My throat tightens, guilt twisting deep. She's not wrong. I told Darius I pawned the ring, but I didn't. And now I was ready to hand it over for a murder weapon. When she says it like that, it sounds damning. It is damning.
Still, I force myself to answer. "I was going to take it for leverage," I say, defensive even to my own ears. "If Darius had listened, if he'd let me go, left this town alone, none of this would be happening."
Her grin cuts sharp. "Excuses."
"So you lured me here. What now? You were planning to kill me, too?"
Darlene steps closer, hands raised, not aggressive but careful. "I was hoping to catch one of yours. But when I saw that ring photo…" Her eyes narrow. "I had to see if it really was you."
Slowly, deliberately, she slips a hand into her pocket.
My pulse spikes. I tighten my grip on the gun.
"No weapons," she says evenly, pulling out a crumpled joint and a lighter.
She sparks it up, takes a long drag, and exhales a slow curl of smoke.
I lower the gun, but not by much.
"I don't want to kill him, Darlene. I really don't. But what choice do I have? We're desperate. I don't know how else to protect them all. Why does he have to be so adamant? Why can't he just… let me go?"
Darlene's smile is sad, almost pitying. "Because he's foolishly, hopelessly in love with you."
The words hit like a punch to my chest. I shake my head and slump back onto the bench, breath caught.
She doesn't stop. "It makes him weak. Reckless. It's derailed more than you know. I've tried to convince him otherwise. To leave this cursed little town, to take you by force if necessary. But he won't. He's obsessed with your safety. And your choice."
I glance at her sideways. My voice is brittle. "A choice he refuses to actually let me make."
She shrugs, exhaling smoke. "You already said yes to him. You ran because of lies. His lies, sure, but mostly Sybil's. He sees your marriage as a desperate sham. Your defiance as pride shouting louder than your reason. He believes you still love him. And that is why he won't stop."
My breath leaves me slowly. Darius isn't wrong. My feelings for him are a tangled knot I can't cut clean, no matter how I try. Denying it doesn't make it less true.
Darlene steps closer, her boots echoing on the damp concrete, and sits beside me. My hand tightens around the gun grip, but I don't raise it.
"If I'd known how this would play out," she says quietly, "I'd have let those vampires eat you long ago."
"I know," I murmur.
She gives a low, humorless chuckle, then offers me the joint. I narrow my eyes, but take it, keeping my other hand on the weapon.
The first inhale burns, but the edge of my anxiety softens.
"I still can't believe you married vampires. Two of them," Darlene says, shaking her head.
"Neither can I. But here we are." A pause. Then, steady: "I love them."
She cuts me a glance as I pass the joint back. "That sounds like madness. But… you were always different from the rest of us."
"Is that supposed to be good or bad?"
"I thought it was good," she says, smoke curling from her lips. "Now? I'm not so sure."
We pass the joint between us, silence stretching, heavy and strange.
Then she breaks it. "This isn't just about Darius, Sage. You didn't only run from him. You ran from all of us. I treated you like a little sister. And now…" Her voice cracks, grief seeping through the steel. "Now you're married to one of the wildest, bloodiest vampires we ever hunted. And Johnny—"
She chokes, the words catching.
The smoke burns deep in my lungs as I whisper, "I'm sorry. About Johnny. About Konstantin. About all of them. I know it's my fault."
Darlene's eyes shine with unshed tears when she turns to me. "We did great things together. For nature. For our purpose. And then you—" Her voice hardens, grief twisting into anger. "You betrayed us. Betrayed me. After everything we taught you. After everything we went through."
I falter, lost for words. "I… I don't know what to say."
I hand the joint back to her, my fingers trembling.
Darlene's hand snaps out. Not for the joint, but for my wrist.
I tighten my grip on the gun, but she's faster, her centuries of training crashing down on me. In one motion she wrenches my arm, pain flaring white-hot, and the weapon goes spinning across the concrete, clattering uselessly into the shadows.
Before I can catch my breath, she's already drawn something from inside her coat.
The blade.
Last Song of a Satyr.
Slash—
It drives into my stomach, the steel tearing through flesh. The pain explodes, sharp and searing, a fire that rips me apart from the inside. My scream tears out raw and strangled.
Darlene yanks me closer, holding me with an iron grip, her breath hot against my ear. "Darius knows what can kill him. We collected every knife we ever found." Her voice is calm, almost tender. "It's not meant for nymphs, but it will bleed you out all the same."
She twists the blade. Agony floods me, unbearable, and another scream rips from my throat, choking into a wet gurgle. My knees buckle, but she doesn't let go.
"I'm sorry it came to this, little sister. But I have to protect him. Even from himself. Even from his love for you." Her voice wavers, but her grip doesn't. "I have to protect his legacy. He'll kill me when he learns what I've done… but at least I'll know I did what was right."
Another twist. The pain is blinding. My body convulses. The edges of the world blur black.
"Goodbye."
She presses a gentle, devastating kiss to my forehead and then shoves me off the blade.
I collapse onto the concrete, my hands slipping over the blood soaking my stomach, spreading too fast. My vision wavers, the ceiling spinning above me.
Through the haze, I watch her walk away in a steady, certain gait.
She never looks back.