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Authors: Meljean Brook
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to slaughter the vampire communities and harvest the blood.”
Rosalia couldn’t hide her surprise. The prophecy stated that vampire blood would kill the nephilim, which in turn would put Belial on the throne. Unsure how that blood was supposed to be used, Belial’s demons had been courting many vampire communities. But just to kill the vampires and store the blood for their use?
Oh, the demons would like that, wouldn’t they? Killing instead of courting. Grimly, she asked, “Is there any news from the demon Sammael?”
One of Belial’s demons was bound by a bargain to give the Guardians a daily ration of his blood. Living demon blood could feed a vampire without a partner, and so Special Investigations kept it on hand for emergencies. But the Guardians also received information through the demon.
“Aside from the blood, he gives nothing to us but lies.” Irena’s lips thinned before she said, “Are you returning to us? You have been outside the corps for a decade. We need you, Rosalia. There are not enough of us.”
No, there weren’t. And with Lorenzo dead, she had no excuse for limiting herself to Rome.
Rome was not where the nephilim were, anyway. “I have one task to finish before I can dedicate myself completely. But if I am needed, I will be available.”
She stood and produced her card. Irena took the information, but didn’t look at it before passing it to Alejandro.
“Rome?” he read.
“Yes.”
Irena frowned at her. “What have you been doing? There are no vampires left there, and your brother is dead.”
Rosalia might have been taken aback if the past few minutes hadn’t taught her to expect Irena’s bluntness. “But that was not all I did. I owed the Church—I have worked for them. For many years.”
“Doing what?”
Irena’s lips had curled into a sneer. Obviously, she was not a fan of the Church.
“Listening. But they do not concern themselves with kings and emperors so much, and so I do not exist to them anymore. I never have officially, anyway. But now I do not exist even unofficially.”
“You spied for them?” Alejandro asked. Rosalia thought he was amused, but wasn’t certain. He was a difficult man to read.
“Yes. And trained vampires to do the same.”
That surprised them. He and Irena exchanged a quick glance.
“Did Michael know?”
“Oh, yes. Of course. After all, I reported the Church’s interests to him.”
Irena threw her head back with that loud laugh. Alejandro didn’t smile, but stroked his goatee in a gesture that was familiar from Rosalia’s days as a novice, when he’d tutored her with swords. She’d thought of it then as his silent laugh; two hundred years had not changed that.
When Irena’s laughter faded and she could hear herself speak again, Rosalia continued. “But now that I am back with you, I would like a territory to protect, if possible. I prefer Europe.”
“That will work,” Irena said. “But you’ll have to take all of it.”
Perfect. “I will.”
Alejandro’s gaze sharpened. “And your vampires?”
“They are gone.”
“They were in Rome when the nephilim massacred them all?”
Hatred sat bitter on her tongue, her heart. “Yes.”
“And Deacon?” Irena asked. Both Rosalia and Alejandro had danced around the vampire. Apparently Irena would not. “Is he still with you?”
“No. He is killing Belial’s demons.”
Approval flared in Irena’s eyes. And realization. “And what task do you need to finish?”
“I’m going to help him.” That was not all she intended to do, but she had no plan yet for the nephilim—and even if she had one, what good would it be without Michael? In the meantime, she would assist Deacon. She had her reasons for killing Belial’s demons, too.
Alejandro began to shake his head. She cut off his protest.
“I will not reveal myself. I will give Belial’s demons no reason to hurry and follow Malkvial, or to strike against us. Not when we are so . . .” She trailed off.
Rosalia couldn’t hide her surprise. The prophecy stated that vampire blood would kill the nephilim, which in turn would put Belial on the throne. Unsure how that blood was supposed to be used, Belial’s demons had been courting many vampire communities. But just to kill the vampires and store the blood for their use?
Oh, the demons would like that, wouldn’t they? Killing instead of courting. Grimly, she asked, “Is there any news from the demon Sammael?”
One of Belial’s demons was bound by a bargain to give the Guardians a daily ration of his blood. Living demon blood could feed a vampire without a partner, and so Special Investigations kept it on hand for emergencies. But the Guardians also received information through the demon.
“Aside from the blood, he gives nothing to us but lies.” Irena’s lips thinned before she said, “Are you returning to us? You have been outside the corps for a decade. We need you, Rosalia. There are not enough of us.”
No, there weren’t. And with Lorenzo dead, she had no excuse for limiting herself to Rome.
Rome was not where the nephilim were, anyway. “I have one task to finish before I can dedicate myself completely. But if I am needed, I will be available.”
She stood and produced her card. Irena took the information, but didn’t look at it before passing it to Alejandro.
“Rome?” he read.
“Yes.”
Irena frowned at her. “What have you been doing? There are no vampires left there, and your brother is dead.”
Rosalia might have been taken aback if the past few minutes hadn’t taught her to expect Irena’s bluntness. “But that was not all I did. I owed the Church—I have worked for them. For many years.”
“Doing what?”
Irena’s lips had curled into a sneer. Obviously, she was not a fan of the Church.
“Listening. But they do not concern themselves with kings and emperors so much, and so I do not exist to them anymore. I never have officially, anyway. But now I do not exist even unofficially.”
“You spied for them?” Alejandro asked. Rosalia thought he was amused, but wasn’t certain. He was a difficult man to read.
“Yes. And trained vampires to do the same.”
That surprised them. He and Irena exchanged a quick glance.
“Did Michael know?”
“Oh, yes. Of course. After all, I reported the Church’s interests to him.”
Irena threw her head back with that loud laugh. Alejandro didn’t smile, but stroked his goatee in a gesture that was familiar from Rosalia’s days as a novice, when he’d tutored her with swords. She’d thought of it then as his silent laugh; two hundred years had not changed that.
When Irena’s laughter faded and she could hear herself speak again, Rosalia continued. “But now that I am back with you, I would like a territory to protect, if possible. I prefer Europe.”
“That will work,” Irena said. “But you’ll have to take all of it.”
Perfect. “I will.”
Alejandro’s gaze sharpened. “And your vampires?”
“They are gone.”
“They were in Rome when the nephilim massacred them all?”
Hatred sat bitter on her tongue, her heart. “Yes.”
“And Deacon?” Irena asked. Both Rosalia and Alejandro had danced around the vampire. Apparently Irena would not. “Is he still with you?”
“No. He is killing Belial’s demons.”
Approval flared in Irena’s eyes. And realization. “And what task do you need to finish?”
“I’m going to help him.” That was not all she intended to do, but she had no plan yet for the nephilim—and even if she had one, what good would it be without Michael? In the meantime, she would assist Deacon. She had her reasons for killing Belial’s demons, too.
Alejandro began to shake his head. She cut off his protest.
“I will not reveal myself. I will give Belial’s demons no reason to hurry and follow Malkvial, or to strike against us. Not when we are so . . .” She trailed off.
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