Christopher shrugged. “My brother asked me to come.”
He looked much the same physically as he had the last time she had seen him, but there was an energy about him that was different.
Christopher had fed. Though she could read his aura easily enough to know he had not killed, he had obviously taken human blood, probably just after their fight, when his bloodlust had been so overwhelming.
Sarah examined his face for a sign of whether he was going to help her or hurt her, but though his expression showed no anger, it showed no compassion either.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Nikolas offered, and Sarah laughed.
“What are you up to, Nikolas?” she asked instead.
“I invited you to my home. I can at least be a gracious host before you try to kill me.”
He was going to wait for her to move? That could make this a very long evening indeed, because she had been planning to wait for his attack. If she killed Nikolas now, unprovoked, she had no illusions that she would not need to kill Christopher, too.
“I’ll have something.”
Sarah turned to see a girl no older than sixteen. She was wearing a white cotton dress with silver embroidery, and her skin was fair, but not ghostly. Her hair was dark brown.
“Christine?” Sarah whispered, hardly able to believe it. Could this girl be the same wraith Sarah had seen earlier that day, huddled in a corner? She had obviously been cleaned up, dressed, fed . . . the change was so amazing, it seemed impossible.
“Yes,” the girl said lightly. “I never caught your name, though.”
“Sarah,” she answered. She shook Christine’s hand as if this were a normal situation, though it was absurd to be introducing herself to this girl now, in the midst of a den of monsters.
Sarah had never doubted herself before, but this nymph in white caused her hatred of Nikolas to fade a bit. Christine stood on tiptoe to open a tin that was sitting on the mantel above the fireplace.
“Chocolate?” she offered, but Sarah shook her head.
“No, thank you.”
Christine glided out of the room again and Sarah watched her go, entranced.
“Nikolas, what do you want?” Christopher finally asked once Christine was out of sight. He sounded drained, tired. “Why am I here?”
“I wanted to give you a chance, Brother,” Nikolas said. He reached into his pocket, pulled something out, and tossed it to Christopher.
For a moment Sarah thought the knife was Nikolas’s, but as Christopher snapped it open she realized the handle was black with white inlay, the reverse of Nikolas’s—Kristopher’s, Sarah assumed, left over from the time when the two brothers still hunted together.
Christopher closed the knife. “A chance to do what?”
“To share this one with me,” Nikolas answered, and Sarah realized it might be time to start fighting.
But she didn’t move.
“You’re going to blood bond her to yourself,” Christopher said, knowing how his brother’s mind worked. “That’s why you didn’t kill her when you marked her.”
“For you, Brother. You wanted her, but she turned you down, Christopher,” Nikolas answered. “Now’s your chance to make her yours. To make her ours.”
“Like Marguerite,” Christopher whispered, understanding. “Nikolas, no. Marguerite wanted it. Sarah doesn’t.”
“She
“I’m not going to help you with this, Nikolas—”
“Fine,” he answered, his voice childlike and resigned at the same time.
Sarah stepped back out of Nikolas’s line of sight, and saw him turn to keep her in his view.
She went for her knife, and an instant later Nikolas was behind her, with his hand around her throat. She drew the knife from her thigh and flipped it in her hand, driving it into his side.
Nikolas cursed, throwing her away from him, and Sarah landed awkwardly on her knife, slicing open her right palm. A moment later a knife blade was at her throat.
Christopher’s.
Christopher had Sarah pinned on the floor, with the blade of his knife against her skin.
“Slice me open, Christopher,” she hissed. “If you’re really willing, then do it.”
Though Christopher didn’t let the knife cut her, he pressed the blade harder against her skin. If she moved, she would slit her own throat.
Nikolas recovered and knelt by his brother’s side, then reached toward the knife on Sarah’s back so he could disarm her. His brother caught his wrist, stopping him, and Nikolas nodded.
Christopher moved his knife away and pulled her to her feet, and then he let her go.
Nikolas followed Sarah with his gaze. “Christopher—”
“I’m not going to kill her for defending herself,” Christopher interrupted.
“The Kristopher I used to know—my
“I want it,” Christopher said softly. “I want it as much as humans want to breathe, but I have control.”
Sarah backed away, and noticed that, though Nikolas kept a hawk’s gaze on her, Christopher was only watching his brother. When she realized how easy it would be to kill him, bile rose in her throat.
“Come back to me, Kristopher. Hunt with me,” Nikolas pleaded. He stepped toward his brother, moving closer to Sarah at the same time—he obviously did not trust her at his brother’s back. “Why do you let the bloodlust burn you every night and every day? We need to feed to survive. Would a starving man on the verge of death turn down a dinner because it was chicken and he was a vegetarian? Or would he eat it anyway, because it was all he had that could stop the pain?”
Sarah did not wait for Christopher’s answer. Instead, she drew the knife from her wrist. The blade had barely cleared its sheath when Nikolas pounced, sending her to the ground; the breath rushed from her lungs, but she kept her grip on her weapon.
Christopher reacted instantly and grabbed his brother’s arm, dragging Nikolas to the side, ignoring Sarah as if she posed no threat. Slaughtering her sense of fair play, Sarah rolled, knocking the momentarily defenseless vampire away. Nikolas cried as her blade touched his skin, and the sound caused Sarah’s gut to clench. He looked so much like Christopher—so vulnerable.
She realized that she had hesitated only when Christopher’s hand clamped over her wrist, stopping the knife from completing the killing blow. He tightened his grip until she dropped the weapon, and Nikolas tossed her knife away while Christopher dragged her away from his brother.
Most vampires were solitary hunters. Sarah had been trained to take down enemies one by one, but Nikolas and Christopher fought like one entity. When one was in danger, the other reacted.
Self-preservation replaced all loyalty to her friend as Sarah slammed an elbow into Christopher’s gut, forcing him to release her, in the same moment that Nikolas knocked her legs from beneath her.
She rolled away from both vampires, drawing her last knife. Breathing heavily, she paused, waiting for one of the vampires to move.
Nikolas edged toward her slowly, and she found her feet, her eyes never straying from him. Her right hand was still bleeding, and she saw his gaze fall to it, and the knife she was holding.
She was watching Nikolas, but it was Christopher who caught her wrist, Christopher who was suddenly restraining her. She had fallen for the same mistake he had, only moments before—she had assumed he would not hurt her unless she attacked him, and so had not been paying attention when he had disappeared from in front of her.
