Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 85029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Ryet is the first sacrifice.
Paul will not be able to save him.
Just like Ryet will not be able to save Syrsee.
There is only one way this ends.
With another Darkness.
One that we control.
So we can be the masters instead of the puppets.
I push Syrsee off me and get to my feet. Paul looks up, unable to hide the panic in his eyes. This was all his idea, but that idea to make a new race of vampire in order to save the vampire came long before the man he’s holding in his arms right now.
And he’s having doubts.
I knew this was coming. And I have prepared for it.
If he turns on me—if he betrays me—he will regret it. And I want him to know this.
I refuse to be a slave. I refuse.
This moment, the very one he promised me all those hundreds of years ago when all I wanted was death, is here.
But we haven’t won yet.
Ryet must die and Paul needs to accept it.
The moment I finish this thought he speaks it out loud. “He’s going to die.” Paul’s words come out matter-of-factly. And I give him a lot of credit for the even tone of his voice as he speaks his worst fear out loud.
“He is going to die, Paul.” I say it too, my voice even as well. Because he needs to hear it. He must accept it.
It’s Ryet. Or us.
22 - Paul
Is anyone surprised?
“I’ve got to go.”
I’m still staring at Josep when he says this. It’s not unexpected. We have more work to do while the Darkness is still vulnerable.
But he’s hesitating because he knows I’m hesitating.
“Yes. You go.” I say this with confidence, abruptly letting go of Ryet. His head hits the hard ground with a thump. “I’ll stay and take care of this one.” I nod my head towards Syrsee, who is writhing against Josep’s leg now. Trying to get off, I think.
It’s a really bad look for her. But it’s not her doing it. Both she and Ryet left their bodies back in the purple room. This is just the Darkness inside her now, craving blood and sex.
“I’ll handle Ryet first. Then I’ll get Syrsee to release me and I’ll be back in the tower room, right where she left me, before you know it.” I get to my feet and let out a breath as I meet Josep’s questioning gaze with my own stoic one.
Josep puts a hand on my shoulder. “I can stay with you. If you need me to.”
He doesn’t trust me. But it’s understandable. I wouldn’t trust me either. I smile. “I would appreciate that, brother. The offer means a lot.” I mimic his hand on my shoulder with my own on his. And this time, when I speak, I let a little emotion through. “He was my favorite.”
Josep nods. “I know.” His suspicion is reined in, his expression more solemn now.
Giving up Ryet was a sacrifice I made that Josep didn’t have to. The biggest sacrifice Josep has made towards this monumental moment is the actual act of showing up here in this tunnel.
I give his shoulder a squeeze. “So your offer to stay is generous and appreciated. I know how much you hate being away from your space.”
Josep hesitates, looking down the tunnel towards the door to Ryet’s house. He doesn’t want to stay. And he’s not in some vague am-I-here-am-I-not existence, the way I am. He’s really, physically here. He traveled through the Dark dirt. He left his bunker.
It’s killing him. Maybe even literally. His anxiety about the outside world has always been pathological, but he’s been locked in that bunker for decades now. It might even have slipped his mind how much anxiety the outside world causes. It’s easy to forget one’s shortcomings when one never has to face them.
And the only reason he agreed to come here, to this tunnel under the earth, was because I had Ryet build it specifically for this encounter and Josep has known about it since the nineteen seventies. We could’ve done this exchange upstairs, or outside, or anywhere, actually—if one of the major participants wasn’t an agoraphobe. Josep prepared for the journey. Prepped himself mentally. And he did great.
But it’s over now. It’s done.
He needs to go home.
Not only that, he’s got work to do there. Pressing, important work that will direct our path forward.
He looks back at me now. “The scions will be arriving shortly. Some of them might already be there.”
“Well”—I smirk at him—“they won’t be able to cause much trouble while we’re away. There’s no blood. There’s no Lucia. And no halfbreeds to worry about either.”
He hesitates again. His offer to stay with me was a bluff. His anxiety over being away from home far exceeds his mistrust of me. I mean, we came this far, didn’t we? If I was going to pussy out over what comes next for Ryet, the time for that was before the transfer. Not now. What has been done to him cannot be undone. I don’t have that kind of power. Not even Josep could pull off that miracle.