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Ian is a little slower getting out. I greet him with a quick hug. "I'm so glad you're back."
"Me too. I have to return for the Night Train, but there won't be anyone to fight me about it."
Victor shakes his hand. "We want to hear everything, but the sun's coming up. We should get inside."
Sitting in the Agency apartment, we listen as Richard and Ian pretty much tell us the same thing that Faith did.
"The other Old Family vamps headed toward their own territories to begin preparing for Sin," Richard says.
"I wish they'd stopped by here first," I say. "I think they would find it useful to see how Denver's citizens and vampires are working together."
"Faith told me some of what is going on. Incredible."
"But can it last?" Ian asks.
"It's going to have to," Victor says, "if we have any hope at all for a better world."
My cell phone rings. It's Clive. "What's up?"
"I think Sin is sending us a message. You need to see it."
Chapter 26.
The messenger isn't in a carriage made of white, nor does he come in the dark of the moon. He's a vampire, lit aflame in the high sun, walking slowly toward the city.
"What the h.e.l.l is that?" the guard asks.
Along with Clive and Michael, I'm standing on one of the watchtowers. Beside me is the guard who first spotted the slowly moving object, just a black silhouette with fires licking across his body, taking bits of ash into the air, where it's whisked away. I borrow the guard's binoculars and look.
It's a vampire, no doubt. Humans tend to stay in one piece when exposed to the sun, and if lit on fire, well, they die pretty quickly. But this poor soul is trekking across the wasteland, his body fuel for the inescapable flames. He's stopped trying to get rid of them but instead marches on with an unmatched will to . . . to what? To reach us?
"He's Old Family," I say.
"Are you sure?"
"No one else could survive that. Even the strongest of Lessers collapse within an hour or so."
"It looks as though he's been walking for several hours," the guard says.
"I'm sure he has."
"Go pick him up," Clive commands the guard.
"But sira""
"If he has something important to say, I don't want him dead by the time he reaches these walls. Take Michael with you."
An hour later, I'm in Clive's office. The shutters are drawn tight, and Victor stands in the corner, arms crossed. All is quiet until a scream pierces the area outside the room. We don't have much time to react when the door is kicked open. Michael and Jeff are holding a smoldering vampire, a wool blanket wrapped around him to make his body able to be handled, but his face is black and charred, pieces of him flaking to the ground like a log left in the fire too long. I have to look away for a moment to brace myself before returning his pained stare.
And his screams keep coming.
"Calm down," Jeff says.
But his shrieks echo around us.
"What do we do, Victor?" Michael asks. "Blood?"
"No," Victor says. "It won't help him at this stage. He won't even be able to get it down his throat."
"Kill me!" the thing shouts as he's lain on Clive's desk.
"Who are you?" Victor asks, moving toward the vampire.
"Ah . . . Ahh . . . Byron Asher. Your Grace."
Only now do I recognize the charred features of the vampire who stood around the great Council table.
"What happened?" I ask.
He looks at me, and while I expect anger, all I see is remorse.
"You were right, Lady Montgomery. Sin . . . he's insane. I . . . I tried to join him, but it was too late. He's . . . he's . . ." Asher makes a horrendous gurgling sound, inhaling the ash that has fallen from his body, breathing in his own flesh and choking on it.
"How many are there?" Victor asks. "How many Day Walkers? How many Chosen?"
"N . . . no . . . none."
"What?"
"None. Sin. He . . . he killed them all. Those who survived fled. I don't know where, but somewhere far away."
I think about Faith's dream she shared with Richard. The footprints leading outside the city. They went in all directions, a ma.s.s exodus of fear.
"Why did he kill them?"
Asher calms himself, pushing the pain out, and I can tell there isn't much time left for this once great vampire. I move forward to thank him. "You were very brave, Lord Asher, to come tell us."
Victor shoots me an approving look before turning back to Asher. "This was in Los Angeles?"
He shakes his head. "I met him in the mountains. He had a few followers with him. But then . . . the Thirst." Asher's voice grows steady as though he is determined to give us this vital information. "Sin's wish has come true. He's become Infected. He's . . . oh, Lord Valentine, you've never seen a monster like this. His need for vampire blood is inescapable. It's never ending. He . . . he drank from those around him . . . without any regard to his master plan. He no longer cares. The Thirst . . . it's . . . it's taken over his mind, his entire being."
"My G.o.d, Asher, you saw this?"
"Yes, my lord." Asher grabs Victor by the collar and pulls him close. "He'll never stop. He'll never be satisfied. He'll drink forever and ever until no one is left. He can do it, Victor. He . . . he can't be stopped."
"Where is he?"
"He . . . he wants to kill you most of all, Victor. He says that . . . *It must end where it began.' Those were his final words before the Thirst tore his mind apart once again, and he slaughtered three vampires, feeding on every ounce of their . . . of their blood. His own kind. How could he . . . How could . . . How could any of us . . ."
His final words may have been spoken, but only in his mind. They never escape his lips. The fires of the sun have caused too much damage. Asher's heart stops.
I watch Victor throw several more stakes into his leather duffel.
"Are you sure he'll be there?" I ask.
"I'm sure. It's the only place that makes sense."
An hour ago, Victor showed me on a map where he thought Sin would be, where he thought "it all began." On the folded paper, marked with roads and cities, it was just a forest. Nothing more. But for Victor, it's home. The old Valentine Manor, erected before vampires were ever known to exist. It's where he spent his early years; it's where Sin grew up under the oppressive weight of an abusive father.
"I'll need three stakes," I say. "So make sure you have enough for me. One of them has to be small, though, so I can strap it inside my boot." Victor stops. "And make sure they're razor sharp and steel. None of this wood c.r.a.p."
"Dawna""
"We should probably wrap tape around the grip, make sure our hands don't slip."
"Dawna""
"Maybe I should go get my metal collar."
"Dawn!" I look up at him, knowing what he's about to say. "You won't be coming."
I open my mouth to speak, but he shoves more stakes into the bag, making a loud clanging noise and cutting me off. "It's not negotiable."
"I'm a delegate. I negotiate."
"Ex-delegate."
"Maybe to the city. But to you, I'm more than that."
"I know. Which is precisely why you're not going. It's too dangerous."
"And that is precisely why I am going. To protect you."
Victor looks up at the ceiling, his grip tense around the leather bag that carries his weapons of war. "I have no idea what I'm going to be facing. Sin could rip me apart in a few seconds, and it'll all be over. That's why Faith is staying behind. If something happens to me, she has to step up and become head of the Valentine family. And I'm not willing to risk you being another victim. No. I'll fight better knowing you're here, safe and sound."
"That isn't true," I say. "Remember when you fought your father, when you . . . when you killed him. You said to me that I was the reason you drove the stake through his heart. Looking at me gave you that strength. The same with Brady. Our toughest battles have always been fought together. We . . . we fight as one."
"Please, Dawn, not this time. If something happens to me . . . No, if something happens to youa""
"Then let it," I say. "Because I . . . don't make me say it, Victor."
"What is it?" he asks. When did the distance between us close? When did he place his hands on my face?
"Because I can't live in a world without you."
"And I can't create a new one without you."
I want this new world that we've both dreamed of, but I want him more. "I hid in a closet when Sin took Brady. I was safe at home asleep in my bed when he killed my parents. I can'ta"I won'ta"let him have you. I love you too much."
Raising up on my toes, I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him, conveying with my lips and tongue everything that I feel for him. Victor Valentine. Vampire. I risked loving him. I'm not willing to risk losing him.
Victor draws back and studies the determination in my eyes. Tenderly he brushes back my hair. "So, that's three stakes, right?"
"And make sure they're sharp!"
A black car sits ominously outside the building. Leaning against it are several of our friends.
"About time," Michael says, a black duffel bag in his hand. He shakes it, and I can hear the metal stakes.
"I'll drive first," Richard says, his elbows on the roof of the driver's side. "We'll need a speed demon if we're to get there in time, and frankly, Victor, you drive like my grandmother."
"This will get us there and back, with plenty to spare," Ian says, loading four orange gas canisters into the trunk.
Rachel is there, a big bag in her hands. "Now, I've packed all of you lunches. Let's see, there's turkey sandwiches, roast beef, um . . . what else? Ooh, I've got a few slices of pie. . . ."
As she rattles off the rest, I slap myself out of the shock I feel and look up at Victor. He appears as surprised as I am: stunned at our gathering of friends and allies.
Faith is standing beside Richard. I wish I had vampire ears to hear what they're saying to each other. Or maybe not; they deserve their privacy. But my human eyes catch Faith trying to wipe away a tear without anyone noticing. Hundreds of years of practice and still not sly enough for me.
Tegan is holding Michael's hand, and he reaches down and gives her a quick brush over the lips. I'm so glad they have each other.
"Everything looks good," Jeff says, shutting the hood of the car. "Just go easy on the brakes, all right?"
I'm grateful Jeff isn't suited up to go with us. The city needs him now more than ever. And as he rejoins Rachel, I can't help noticing his hand lying gently on her stomach. Maybe it means nothing. Maybe it means everything.
Faith walks over to Victor. "I want to go, but . . ."
"A Valentine needs to be here in case things don't go well," Victor finishes for her.
She nods, swipes at another tear. "Just make sure things go well."
He hugs her hard. "You're a great sister."
"You're an okay brother."
Laughing, Victor leans back and she turns to me. "Don't let anything happen to him."
"I won't," I promise.
Richard gives us our boarding call. "Let's go, guys, plenty of night left."