Eternal

splitting clank. At that moment, Matthew’s baselard flew through the air, into the eye of the vampire carrying the torch. When the vampire wielding the sword turned to see what had caused his companion to cry out, Matthew’s second baselard hit its mark at the precise moment that I drove my stake through the first vampire’s heart. I paused only a second before pulling my stake from the gaping wound.

And then, like a well-timed pas de deux, Matthew and I wheeled around each other so that I could stake the second vampire while he retrieved his baselard from our first victim’s corpse.

A split second later, Aidan joined in our dance, slicing the vampires’ heads off in two neat strokes while Matthew, who’d somehow managed to catch the torch before it hit the ground, laid fire to the bodies.

I watched with satisfaction as both corpses burst into all-consuming flames that somehow extinguished themselves in a matter of seconds, leaving nothing behind but a rotten stench and a pile of ashes.

There was a brief moment of stunned silence, and then chaos erupted, the din rising like the buzz of angry insects.

A second and third pair advanced on us as Mrs. Girard’s guards pressed into action, encircling us and managing to hold back the rest of our would-be attackers while we efficiently dispatched two females and then two more males. Matthew and I moved as one, in perfect synchronicity, his blades flying, my stakes hitting their mark again and again while inhuman shrieks pierced the air.

In the center of the fray stood Tyler, his sword meeting several different blades, often at once. Like the gifted fencer he was, he managed to deflect or avoid each blow, ducking and twisting, wielding the heavy weapon as if it weighed nothing at all. He somehow managed to disable several pairs of would-be attackers as they headed toward Matthew, Aidan, and me. I could only assume he was messing with their molecules the same way he had with Aidan’s that day in the chapel. I have no idea how he was able to do it while wielding his sword, though—talk about multitasking. I wondered if Marissa was somehow lending him a hand in the calm and focused department.

And then another pair broke through the line. A dense fog—created by Joshua, no doubt—cut them off from the rest of our enemies. Hidden from view, Matthew and I took them down, one right after the other. This scenario played out over and over again. The fog, the blade, the stake, Aidan’s sword—it repeated itself like a loop as the beheaded bodies collected on the floor, just waiting to be burned into oblivion.

And then at last the howling mob retreated. They backed away, surveying the carnage from a safe distance as Aidan, Matthew, and I regrouped, our weapons held at the ready as Tyler and Joshua joined the guards to form a protective semicircle around us.

And then my heart leapt into my throat as Aidan stepped forward, past the guards, his bloodied sword held aloft in victory. “I am Aidan Gray,” he said, his voice loud and clear and sure. “I am your Dauphin, son of Edward VII, King of England. I alone control the Sabbat and her Megved. The prophecy says I cannot be destroyed, not by my kind, and you’ve seen proof of that here today.”

He strode back and forth as he spoke, his spine straight, his head held high. “I’m offering you a choice—we can continue this stand, destroying you one by one, sending you straight to hell where you belong. Or you can crawl back to wherever you’ve come from and tell your people what you’ve seen.

“Tell them this: Eldest rule is no longer,” he said, his voice echoing throughout the chamber. “Nicole Girard, creator of your Dauphin, retains the title of chairwoman of the High Tribunal. Each tribe, each coven that has existed in accordance with the code of laws, will choose their representative to govern beside her.

“Mark my words—indifference to the law will no longer be tolerated. Executions will be swift and efficient. If anyone here doubts me, I suggest you challenge me now, on this ground.” He paused, his gaze sweeping over what was left of them.

No one said a word.

“The rules are simple,” he continued. “We coexist secretly and in peace with mortals. We avoid the kill when we feed. We eschew innocents. We create our own kind sparingly and with great care. If you cannot abide by this code, speak now and suffer my judgment.”

From somewhere ahead and to my left, I heard a shriek of fury. A black-haired female appeared to fly forward, a blur that stopped short on the end of Aidan’s sword. In an instant, Matthew’s baselard flew through the air, into her eye, and I sprang forward with my stake, dealing the deathblow with practiced precision.

“Who’s next?” Aidan taunted, removing the weapons from the corpse. He handed them to Matthew, who wiped them on the leg of his already-bloodstained pants before returning me my trusty length of hawthorn.

My body tense and rigid, I waited for the next attack, but none came. One by the one, the dissenters began to drop to one knee.

“My Dauphin,” came a whispered voice, and then another. And another. Another still. On and on it went until they were all kneeling—every last one of them. Even the one called Galina, her blond head bowed reverently.

Mystified, I looked to Aidan, unsure of his next move. I watched in wonder as he lifted his chin proudly in the air, looking every bit the young king they believed him to be and nodded.

“This is done,” he said, his tone commanding. “Go now.”

31 ~ Like Breathing Air

It was only when we’d stumbled back to Aidan’s apartment near dawn that I noticed what a ragtag bunch we were. My hair had obviously caught fire at some point, a big chunk burnt off almost up to my chin on one side, and Matthew’s eyelashes had been singed clean off. Both of us were sporting numerous bruises from head to toe, along with cuts and gashes that were just beginning to crust over.

Tyler, too, was covered in bruises and cuts caked with blood, and Joshua sported a deep gash along one cheek.

Aidan remained unblemished, though like Matthew and me, his blood-soaked clothes were ruined and his skin was coated with a thin film of putrid ash. So was his hair, which now looked a dingy sort of dishwater gray rather than its usual golden blond.

Only Marissa appeared unscathed. Thank God. I couldn’t help but remember how Marissa had suffered in our fight with Julius, her throat ripped open, her skin deathly pale. I was relieved that the guards had kept her safe, that she’d come through this fight without a scratch. She deserved that. She’d earned it.

As soon as we walked through the door, Sophie and Cece came running toward us. “Thank God you’re okay!” Cece cried. “I watched the whole thing—you guys were awesome!”

Sophie looked peeved. “Yeah, and I was stuck with the shell of her body and two scary-looking vampires. I had no idea what was happening till the very end, when Cece decided to come back here.”

“Hey, I was busy causing distractions,” Cece shot back. “Could you tell?”

“I noticed,” Aidan said with a smile.

He had? He hadn’t mentioned it, but then, he had been pretty occupied.

“Anyone need me to check anything out?” Sophie offered. “Any injuries?”

“You should look at that cut on Joshua’s face,” Matthew said, his brow knit. “He might need stitches.”

Sophie nodded. “What about you, Tyler? You’re a mess.”

“Hey, you can check me out anytime you like,” he quipped with a wink.

Sophie’s cheeks pinkened. “Very funny. Okay, how about you all go get cleaned up, and I’ll set up triage in the kitchen. Aidan, do you have any first aid supplies?”

He nodded. “I have no idea why I do, but yes. I’ll go get them for you.”

“Guys, I’ve got to get in the shower,” I said, my knees suddenly weak. “Like, now.”

“Go on up.” Aidan gestured toward the stairs. “The master bath is all yours.”

I made straight for it, stripping off my clothes and dumping them in a trash bin while the enormous claw- foot tub filled with water. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a real shower—just one of those old-fashioned, hand-held thingies hanging on a hook, but it would have to do. A few minutes later, I sank gratefully into the steaming water,