“There was a vampire from my dream,” was all she could think to say. “I need to take the stake out.”
“You can’t,” Armando answered in dismay. “It’s a rosewood stake. It’s rooted into his heart. If you try to take it out, you’ll kill him faster. See...” Armando pointed to the strange protrusions pressing up under Roman’s skin. They appeared to be gnarled roots growing just below the surface.
Covering her mouth in horror, Vanora stared at Armando in desperation. “Do something.”
Armando whipped off his coat, muttering angrily in Spanish. Swiftly, he covered Roman with his coat before lifting him into his arms. In silence, Armando pushed past the trembling young woman and into the study where he placed Roman on the sofa.
“Roman, what happened?” Armando whispered.
“I should have listened to your warnings,” Roman said, his voice a thick rasp.
“You’re stubborn like me.”
Vanora could not move from where she stood in the doorway. Her body felt so weak, she could barely stand. Her heart was thundering in her ears and her lungs felt as if they had exploded.
Vanora felt a hand on her shoulder and cringed.
“What’s happening-Roman!” Alisha streaked across the room and flung herself at him. Armando caught her and held her back. “Take it out of him!” Alisha shrieked, reaching for the stake.
“We can’t, Alisha. It’s rosewood. Once it enters our bodies it starts to grow within us, sprouting thorns, twisting its way through us. Roman’s dying and we can’t stop it,” Armando explained in a soft tone.
“No, not Roman. Not like this!”
“Alisha, be strong for him,” Armanda urged, then released her.
Alisha fell to her knees at Roman’s side. “Roman...please...”
“Alisha, don’t cry. Please, don’t cry,” Roman whispered. “Everyone must die. Even Roman Socoli.” He forced a pained smile and gently caressed her cheek with bloodied fingertips. The blood vanished into her pale skin.
Vanora watched, her chest heaving and her lungs struggling for breath. The thick swath of blood Roman had left in his wake was now flowing toward him as though trying to catch up with his torn body. As quickly as his blood absorbed into his body, it gushed out of his wounds.
“Not you, Roman. You mean so much to so many people. I need you to help me survive. Vanora needs you, too. We all do. I don’t want you to leave us.” Alisha’s anguish was tangible and overwhelming.
Roman gently lifted her face as he whispered, “You’re strong, Alisha. You’re my legacy. My strength.”
Vanora shuddered as Roman’s blood ceased to return to him and instead crept up over Alisha’s body like long, red liquid snakes. Shivering, Alisha gripped Roman’s hand as his blood started to flow into her over her lips and into her mouth.
“Let it happen,” Armando ordered. “He’s giving you his power.”
Stepping forward, Vanora clasped her hands to her breasts. It was a terrible thing to see, Roman’s blood leaving his body to fill Alisha, yet she could feel the power flowing from her brother to infuse her sister. As gruesome as it was to witness, the moment was filled with love and it brought tears to her eyes.
Armando held out his hand to Vanora, beckoning her closer. “He’s nearly gone, Vanora. Say your goodbye.”
Stepping around her sister, Vanora crouched beside the sofa. Resting her head close to Roman’s, she gazed into his eyes. The life within them was dim. Gently, she laid her hand on his cheek. “I love you, Roman.”
“You’re my little Snow Pea.” His voice was barely audible. “My little sister. My little girl.”
When she pressed her lips to his brow, it was cold and hard like stone. “You were the best dad, Roman.”
That brought a small smile to his greying lips.
Thorns and roots started to puncture through his skin, but no blood flowed. Instead, his flesh fell away like gray ash.
“Roman,” Alisha sobbed, her lips red with his blood. “Don’t go.”
Vanora dared to touch Roman’s cheek. It crumbled beneath her touch, then sifted away in a cloud of dust. Falling back into her sister’s embrace, Vanora watched as Roman’s body vanished into a pile of dark ash piled around the twisted, thorny branch of a rose bush.
“It’s over,” Armando whispered, falling to his knees.
Roman was gone.
Epilogue
The pale moonlight glinted on the choppy waves of the Gulf of Mexico. In the distance, the coastal towns were a necklace of sparkling lights. Aeron stood on the deck of the ship, his hands gripping the cold metal rail. Out of the darkness, the She-Wolf approached.
“It’s colder than I remembered, Leto.”
“It’s winter.” Leto drew to his side, her dark hair tangled by the wind.
Aeron chuckled. “Not like the winters of my homeland.”
“Of course not. We are in the summer lands.” Leto tilted her head, regarding him with her keen wolfen eyes. “I have word from Lorelei.”
“What is the word?”
“Roman is dead. Slayed by her hand.” Leto’s full lips smirked.
“So it begins.” Aeron stretched out his long arms, bones popping and muscles stretching. He was looking forward to the coming purge. Already he was yearning for a new battle. “How did she kill him?”
“Rosewood.” Leto leaned her hip against the rail and directed her gaze toward him.
“A brutal, painful death that there is no escape from. That’s my darling little one.” Aeron laughed with delight.
“They’ll flee now that Roman is dead,” Leto said.
Aeron’s white hair twisted about his head like snakes. It was longer than usual and gave him the appearance of an ancient warrior. “No, no, they won’t. Vanora will stay and fight. It’s her nature.”
“What of the Roman’s vampires? The rogues?”
“It doesn’t matter if they run. I’ll find them and kill them.”
Leto inclined her head. “Of course.”
“There will be no mercy for the bastard children of rogue vampires.”
“What of Armando and Carlotta?”
That Leto should question him about Carlotta was not surprising, but Aeron felt defensive in regards to Armando. “Armando is my faithful son and will watch over Vanora as I ordered. Carlotta will be angry, but she’s fickle. She’ll find someone else to direct her affections toward soon enough.”
“You don’t think she will turn on you for betraying her?”
Aeron shrugged. “I kept my word to her. I didn’t kill Roman.”
Leto slightly wagged her head. “No, no. You just ordered it.”
“My hands are not stained by his blood.” Aeron placed one of his huge hands on Leto’s chest, just above the curve of her breasts. His fingers and palm covered most of her flesh. He was always surprised at how warm the She-Wolf flesh was whenever he touched her.
Leto lifted her wolf-eyes to his, her full lips slightly twisted upward to reveal long wolf teeth. “You’re colder than the night.”
“You’re as warm as sunlight.” Boldly, he slid his hand under the collar of her knit top to feel the heaviness of her breast.
Slightly narrowing her eyes, Leto allowed him to touch her, but her long fingers were slowly sprouting claws.
“The breasts that fed the first of the wolf-children,” he said in awe, then released her.
The long, black claws of the She-Wolf tapped against the metal rail. “I have what you crave. A legacy of children.”
