Eternal

“I had some business to attend to. Affairs to settle,” he said cryptically.

He was being purposely obtuse, I realized. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on here,” I demanded, annoyed now.

Looking almost grim, he reached over to the round, piecrust table beside the chair and retrieved a leather case.

“What’s that?” I asked, eyeing it curiously as he opened it, revealing what looked like an enormous hypodermic needle and a single glass vial.

“It’s my cure,” he said simply.

“Your cure?” I asked, my voice rising. “What? How?”

“Dr. Byrne gave it to me before we left New York.”

“That’s what he wanted to talk to you about?”

Aidan nodded. “He feels certain he’s perfected it. No way to know for sure, of course, but it worked with my blood and tissue samples, right down to the cellular level. With the samples we took from the vampire in Atlanta too. At least, that’s what he tells me.”

I glanced down at the humungous needle and then back up at him again. “So . . . now what?”

“Why don’t you get up and get dressed. I’ll go to the kitchen and find you something to eat, and I’ll bring it right up with some coffee, okay?”

I didn’t like this, not one bit. He was acting strange, oddly formal and aloof. “Fine,” I said. “Just give me fifteen minutes; I want to jump in the shower first.”

I’d never showered so quickly in my life. It was chilly, so I threw on a pair of jeans with a tank top and a hoodie and quickly ran a brush through my hair.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, he was back with a tray that held two slices of thick toast, a jar of jam, and a mug of steaming coffee. “This was all I could rustle up,” he said. “I think I got the coffee right, though—lots of sugar and cream.”

“Perfect. Okay, you talk while I eat.” I reached for a piece of toast and took a bite, settling myself into the chair opposite him.

“This is going to sound much worse than it is,” he warned.

I washed down the toast with my coffee, waiting for him to continue.

“It’s simple, really. I fill the syringe with the correct amount of serum. He’s marked it here.” He lifted it from the case, showing me the little dash made in black Sharpie. “And then I’m going to need you to inject it for me.”

“Like in your arm or something?” I asked. “Why can’t you inject it yourself?”

“This part sounds complicated, but it really isn’t, not if you think about it,” he said, then took a deep breath before continuing. “You have to inject the serum directly into my heart.”

“What?” I shrieked, setting down my mug so hard that coffee sloshed all over the tray. “Are you crazy? I can’t do that.”

“Yes, you can. Look, it’s a heavy-gauge needle, nice and thick and just the right length. You hold the syringe here”—he grabbed it firmly in the middle, demonstrating—“just like you would your stake. Make sure you use plenty of force. Don’t worry, the needle won’t break.

“But you’ve got to inject it into the right spot, okay? You know how to hit a vampire’s heart; you’ve done it plenty of times before. Once it’s in, press the plunger all the way down with your thumb. And that’s it, Violet.”

“That’s what Matthew said I should do?” I asked, too stunned to say much else.

“Those were his specific instructions.”

“I don’t understand. This sounds crazy. I mean, what if I miss? What’ll that do to you? And what if I don’t miss? We have no guarantee that it’ll work, that it won’t just kill you on the spot. Besides, why now? We’re supposed to be having fun. We were having fun,” I insisted, feeling panicked now. “This can wait.”

“You saw what happened the other night.” He shook his head, looking grimly determined. “I’m not risking that again. Don’t you see? I want you, Vi. I’m not going to stop wanting you. And to have you, I have to bite you. I can’t help but bite you. And God only knows what’ll happen when I do.”

“Well,” I floundered, “what about Mrs. Girard? You’re supposed to be . . . I don’t know, doing stuff with the Tribunal or something.”

“I won’t continue to be her pawn.”

“You’re not her pawn,” I argued, desperate to convince him not to do this—not now. “You’re the Dauphin; you’re their king. She answers to you, not the other way around.”

He rose from his chair, moving around the table to kneel before me, taking both of my hands in his. “But that’s not what I want. Don’t you see? I don’t want to be their king. I want to be a boy—a mortal boy. Someone stole my life from me a century ago, and I want it back. Not next month, not next year or the year you finish university. I want it now.

“And if it doesn’t work—or worse, if it kills me, well . . . what better place than here, where I was born? All your friends are here, Vi. If I don’t make it, they’ll take care of you, comfort you. And that business I had to see to—my assets, my belongings, I’ve left them to you. The apartment in Paris, everything. You’ll be fine. We’ve got to do this. Today. Right now.”

I reached a trembling hand up to my temple. My head was pounding, a dull, throbbing ache. “I can’t,” I said, tears gathering in my eyes.

“You can,” he insisted. “I have faith that you can, that you love me enough to set me free.”

Downstairs in the grand hall, the clock chimed the hour with a single booming note. Aidan stood, reaching for the syringe and vial.

I watched wordlessly as he uncapped the glass vial, inserting the needle in and pulling up the plunger to fill the syringe with the serum. “We don’t have much time—I expect them back within the hour.” He pulled me to my feet, holding the syringe out to me. My hand trembling, I took it.

I started to cry then, deep, gulping sobs that racked my entire body. “I can’t do it,” I choked out.

“You have to do it, Vi,” Aidan pleaded.

“No.” I shook my head, the tears blurring my vision as I backed toward the bed.

“Please, I beg of you. It has to go into my heart. You can do it; I’ve taught you how. Don’t let me down, not now.”

“No,” I blubbered, wanting it to stop. “Please, no. Don’t make me, Aidan. I can’t.”

“Yes, love. You can. Right here.” He tapped his chest. “There’s no time to waste—you must do it now. Now,” he repeated, his tone urgent.

“Why me?” I asked miserably.

“Because I love you with all my heart. It has to be you—don’t you see?”

Taking a deep, ragged breath, I raised my gaze to his.

This is for us, he said in my head. It’s the only way. The only chance we’ve got.

I knew then that he was right. That he loved me enough to risk it, that I loved him enough to try.

“Okay,” I said at last.

“Thank you,” Aidan answered.

“Now?”

He nodded. “Now, love.”

I could do this—I had to. I took a deep, calming breath, finding my center. Once, twice, three times. When my mind was clear and focused, I raised my arm, my fingers clutched tightly around the syringe’s smooth barrel. I took one step back and then lunged forward, my arm swinging in an arc that led directly to Aidan’s heart.

A scream escaped my lips as the needle pierced his flesh. Aidan’s eyes widened, his mouth forming an O of surprise. Quickly, I pressed the plunger all the way down with my thumb before releasing my grip on the syringe.

And then I watched in horror as Aidan crumpled to the floor, the needle still protruding from his chest. His blue-gray eyes were open wide, staring unseeing at the ceiling—all hint of life gone from them, just like that.

“No!” I shrieked, my voice echoing around the room, bouncing off the walls. Frantic now, I dropped to my hands and knees beside his body and laid an ear against his chest, desperately hoping to hear or feel something,