Page 82 of Midnight Kiss

“No,” she said, moving to the edge of the stone balcony. I moved so I could get a better view of her.

Jacques brushed past me, running toward her. “Sofia!”

“You have your Guardians,” she said. “If I die, they will live. And you will be as strong as you have always wished to be. You have what you want, and it was never love. It was always power, Jacques. It was always power.”

“Stop it. Get down from there,” he snarled.

“You have no control over me,” she replied, tears streaking the soot on her cheeks. “And you never did. Don’t you see that? I didn’t. Love blinded me to who you really were.” She clambered up onto the edge of the balustrade that overlooked the burning town.

“No! Sofia, get down from there. I need you.”

“I would rather die than be a part of what you have become.” And then Sofia fell backward off the balcony, her ruined silk dress fluttering in the wind, her wig falling from her head.

“Sofia!” Jacques sped toward the balcony’s edge with the lighting quickness of a vampire, but he was too late. I felt it in my bones. That intuition was confirmed when he dropped to his knees and screamed a second later, a bloodcurdling howl that?—

Blackness again.

“Ah. Interesting. So you can bond more than one.”

“Please, stop. I’m sick,” I said. “I don’t think I can?—”

“I know that, my dear. But you will survive this. And I will make sure of that. You are too useful to me now,” Karn said.

“Please.”

“Once more.”

I opened my eyes, expecting the ruined hall, but found myself in a cave. Candlelight flickered at the end of a rough passage, and I put my hand out, feeling in the gloom. The walls were wet, and the sound of dripping water came from nearby.

I didn’t bother calling out this time. A sense of helplessness overcame me, and I swallowed my nerves. What if I just didn’t move? What if I didn’t help this vampire who had control over my mind?

“Move.” The voice came from everywhere.

I dug my heels in, refusing, but it didn’t work. I was shuttled along the hallway toward the flickering light. I entered a cavernous space, filled with stalagmites and stalactites, with melted candle wax, a pool of water, and a corner that held a desk, a bed, and a few candleholders.

Jacques sat at the table. His wig was gone, but he wore that same cloak, stained with age. He ran a hand through dark hair, dipping the end of a quill into an inkpot.

I approached and watched as he scribbled in a thick leather-bound book.

He paused and lifted his wrist to his mouth then bit down on it. He squirted blood onto the page ,but the wound healed quickly.

“And so,” he murmured, “I am cursed to die in this cave. I will die alone.” He wrote the words as he spoke them. “May whoever finds this journal forever be warned of the dangers of Guardians, of vampires themselves.”

But he couldn’t die, surely? He was undead. How would he manage to?—

Jacques took a candle from the holder and stepped back from the table. He lit the edge of his cloak on fire and watched, almost dispassionately, as the flames licked their way up his arm and engulfed his entire body. He let out a scream, a pained scream.

“Sofia. I am coming.” And then he fell to his knees.

Blackness again.

“A weak creature if I’ve ever seen one,” Karn said, “but he has provided us with some useful information, at least. A pity he succumbed. Such a knowledgeable creature would’ve been a valuable addition to Sanguine Nox.”

My insides twisted. “Let me go,” I said. “Now.”

“You will go nowhere. Didn’t you see? Didn’t you hear? You, my dear, are a Guardian.”

My jaw dropped.