“Dude, I totally get that you’re out for vengeance and all,” I say, trying a different tack. “But from personal experience, let me tell you, that whole eye-for-an-eye thing never really works out in real life. And you have to admit, the Slayer Inc. of today provides a valuable otherworld police force. They keep the peace. They protect both humans and vampires from those who want to do them harm. Imagine a world without them. It would be chaos. No checks and balances. No laws. Any evil dictator could just swoop in at a moment’s notice and wreak havoc on the world.” I shrug. “Bottom line, Lucifent is still alive and no worse for wear. Isn’t it best to make peace and move on?”
“I will never make peace with Slayer Inc.” Jareth declares vehemently. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see my sister’s face when that slayer stabbed her through the heart.”
Maybe not, I want to say. But I did see your sister and the rest of your family living happily ever after in an awesome castle down in Hades, loving their afterlife.
If only there were a way I could let Jareth see his sister’s smile. Let him hear his mother’s laugh. Smell his dad’s barbecue. I feel like only then—knowing how happy and safe they are, and knowing how much they want him to feel happy and safe, too—only then will he be able to let go of the hatred, anger, and guilt he’s been harboring for so many years.
I turn to Spider. “Do you mind if I talk to Jareth alone for a second?” I ask.
She looks hesitant. “You don’t want me to go…out there…again, do you?” she asks warily, pointing to the zombie cabin with a shaky finger.
Good point. I scan the room. “How about the bathroom? We won’t be long, I swear.”
Thankfully she nods. “Good idea. Then I can wash off some of this nasty zombie goop.” She skips over to the bathroom, ducking inside and closing the door behind her. Once she’s gone, Jareth turns to me.
“So tell me,” he says in a tight voice. “Who are you really and where did you come from? And don’t pull any more of this mere-mortal crap with me. I know there’s something you’re not telling me, and I want to know what it is.”
“You’re right,” I reply, drawing in a breath. Here goes nothing. “I’m Rayne McDonald. And I’m from the future.”
“Right.” He snorts. “That’s a good one.”
“It’s good because it’s true,” I insist. “Think about it for a second. How else would I know all the things I know? About your family. About you.”
“And what, pray tell, do you know about me?”
There’s so much. Where can I even begin? “I know you used to be a sculptor,” I start. “And that you can still see much of your work around Europe. I know you loved your art but gave it up after your family died—too painful of a reminder of what you’d lost. I know that after their deaths you vowed to walk the earth alone and swore never to love again.” I pause, then add, “And I know that you will change your mind. That you will fall in love. That you’ll fall in love with me.”
Jareth frowns. “Impossible!”
“Is it?” I cry. “Is it so hard to think of a future where you’re not full of hate and rage and revenge? Where you’ve been able to let go of your deepest fears and most painful memories and dared to trust another person besides yourself?”
“You’re making this up,” Jareth insists angrily. “And you’ve told me nothing that you couldn’t have found out on your own. If you’re really from the future—if I’ve really shared all this so-called pain with you—then tell me my deepest secret. The one I’ve never told anyone before.”
I nod slowly, wishing I didn’t have to do this. He may be asking for it, but he doesn’t really want to hear it.
“You think it’s your fault your sister was slain,” I say at last. “Because you ran away instead of helping her.”
Jareth’s face turns white as a ghost. He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t move. He just stares at me with eyes clouded with confusion and fear. I hold my breath, praying I haven’t made a wrong step. That he won’t erupt in rage and kill me on the spot for saying the words aloud. But I had to get him to believe me. Otherwise none of this will matter.
Finally, after what seems an eternity, he opens his mouth to speak. “I’ve never told anyone that,” he says in a quiet voice.
“Not yet you haven’t,” I correct kindly. “But you will. Because you trust me. And you know I’m worthy of your trust.”
He closes his eyes, his face a war of emotions. I wait patiently for him to digest all I’ve said. I know it’s a lot to take in. Too much, perhaps. But the clock is ticking. And I have to convince him I’m worth trusting in other matters as well, before we land and it’s all too late.
“Your future self trusts me with your most painful secrets,” I say gently. “All I’m asking is that you trust me in this as well. Project Z is not what you think. Pyrus will take the zombies Lucifent offers him and wipe out Slayer Inc., yes. But he won’t stop there. He’ll raise more zombies—an army’s worth—and start a war with humanity, relegating humans to nothing more than cattle to be milked for their blood. Vampires will revert back to the monsters they once were. No longer civilized, no longer bettering the world, but destroying it instead. And there will be no one to stop them.” I give him a rueful look. “I know why you hate Slayer Inc. But we need them now. Or everything you’ve worked so hard for over the years will be destroyed.”
Jareth paces the room like a caged tiger, raking a hand through his tousled hair. “This is impossible,” he mutters under his breath. “It’s got to be a trick somehow.”
My shoulders slump. Defeated. He’s so stubborn—just like me. And unless I can get him to believe me about the time-travel part, he’ll never believe me about the rest. But how can I prove it to him? How can I show him all I’ve seen? Back when we were blood mates, we had a connection. I could call on him, push messages into his brain. But now…
That’s it. My mind races with the idea. Could it actually work?
I have to try. We’re almost out of time.
“I can prove it!” I blurt out before I can lose my nerve. “I can prove everything I’ve been saying.”
He spins on his heel, looking down at me, the tiniest shred of hope written on his face. He wants to believe, I realize. Badly. “And how can you do that?” he asks in a voice filled with hesitation.
I hold out my wrist. “Bite me.”
“What?”
“You want to know the truth? Then take it from me. See what I’ve seen. Hear what I’ve heard. Only then will you be convinced that I’m telling you the truth.”
Jareth shakes his head. “No,” he says. “It’s against the rules. It’s against everything I’ve vowed to uphold.”
“I can show you your sister,” I say quietly.
His eyes narrow. “How could you possibly—?”
“Wouldn’t you prefer to see for yourself?”
He squeezes his eyes shut, then opens them again. “If you’re lying…”
“If I’m lying, you can drain me dry. Kill me here and now and be done with me forever. How about that?”
He sighs.
“Come on, Jareth. Will you really be able to live your life, knowing you had a chance to see your sister one last time, but you walked away?”
“No,” he says resignedly. “I suppose not.”
And so, he takes my wrist in trembling hands and brings it slowly to his mouth. As I hold my breath in anticipation, I feel his fangs slide into my veins. I wait for the ecstasy I know should be coming. The feeling of connection between two people sharing one blood. But instead of the joy, all I feel is a chilling fear and overwhelming suspicion.
He doesn’t believe. He’s closed his mind. And I’m going to have to work as hard as hell to make sure he sees what he needs to see before he pulls away.
And so I close my eyes and push, with all my mental might, bringing him back to the morning in Hades when we walked up to his family’s castle. When his sister came bursting from the front door, throwing her arms arou
nd him with wild abandon. When she told him the truth about what really happened to her. How her death was not his fault after all.
“Jareth, I can bend people’s wills,” she explains. “It’s something I’ve been able to do ever since I first turned into a vampire.” She shrugs sheepishly. “That night, well, I knew you’d go in there, fangs blazing, trying to take them all out yourself—even if it meant your own death. So I placed a hold on you. I suggested you stay in one place. I mean, you had all those other vampires in the Blood Coven to worry about. I couldn’t rightly let you sacrifice yourself for me.”
Jareth stares at her, shaking his head in disbelief. “So I didn’t leave you?”
“Not of your own free will, anyway. There was no way on earth you could have resisted the power of my suggestion,” she assures him. She reaches out for her brother’s hands again, finding his eyes with her own cool blue ones. “Jareth, you didn’t cause my death. I saved your life.”
Jareth smiles against my wrist, and I can feel bloody tears splash on my skin. My own eyes water as I realize how much this means to him. How close I feel to him now, linked as one, sharing his overwhelming relief and joy to finally know the truth. I’d love to let him stay here in this memory forever. To give him time with his sister and family, soaking in all the love he’s missed all these years. But we have to move on. We have darker places to go before this is all said and done.
And so I show him the rest. Pyrus. What he’s capable of. How he plans to turn their democracy into a dictatorship. What he really plans to do with Project Z.
But we have the power to stop him, I remind Jareth. Stop him now before any of this comes to pass.
And then, at last, I show him us. I know it’s probably not the most on-target stuff I should be focusing on. But how can I waste my one opportunity to share with him the memories I have of our love? I free my mind and let the images flow, letting him experience all we’ve shared together. I end with that night in Hades, when I was forced to leave him. And the promise I made to find him here and make him love me all over again.
At last, Jareth pulls away, his fangs sliding easily from my wrist. He takes a white bandage and ties it carefully around me, stopping the blood from flowing too fast. Then he looks up at me, blood tears streaming down his cheeks. I reach out, squeezing his icy hand in my own, trying to warm it with my fingers.
“I never thought I’d see her again,” he whispers, dropping his gaze to my hand. “And what she said…” He trails off, then looks up again, his face awash with appreciation and awe. “I can’t even tell you what you’ve just given me,” he murmurs. “I will never be able to repay you for that gift…as long as I live.”
“Yes, you can,” I assure him, forcing my voice to be strong. “By helping us defeat Pyrus before he gets too powerful. We still have a chance if we work together.”
He nods resolutely. “Of course,” he says. “The last thing I want is to start a war that will kill more innocent people. Just like my family was killed.” He swallows hard. “We have to put an end to this. Now.”
“Well, we can start by calling off the zombies. Letting Queenie out there know you’ve changed your mind. That you no longer need her services. Tell her to send the zombies back to their graves where they belong before they do any harm.”
Jareth agrees, then chuckles softly.
“What?” I ask, feeling my face heat, but not sure why.
“You thought she was my girlfriend,” he says. “For real.”
“Yeah,” I admit. Now my face is burning red. “Though I was surprised, to be honest. She didn’t seem like your type.”
“And what is my type, may I ask?” Jareth asks in a teasing voice. And suddenly I realize his face is very close to mine.
I grin. “A mere mortal who won’t take no for an answer?”
He laughs, a sweet gentle laugh. The kind of laugh I’ve missed hearing for so long. Then without warning, he pulls me close. So close I can feel his breath on my lips. Oh God. Is he really going to do it? Am I really going to experience our first kiss…all over again?
But just as his lips brush my skin, a screech echoes through the chamber. We break apart, whirling around to see what on earth could have made such a horrific noise.
It’s Queenie, standing in the doorway, her face twisted with fury as she stares down at us. “How dare you?” she demands in a cracking voice. “How dare you betray me?”
Jareth’s eyes widen in fear. “Look,” he tries. “Glenda! I can explain!”
But Queenie—Glenda—doesn’t seem interested in any explanation. She’s already turned to the intercom attached to the wall next to the door. She pulls the transmitter to her mouth, still glaring at Jareth with utter disgust.
“Attention, passengers,” she purrs into the mic. “The captain has turned off the seatbelt sign. You are now free to eat around the cabin.”
Uh-oh.
23
Sunny
It doesn’t take long for Pyrus’s guards to show up. Magnus refuses to meet my eyes as they handcuff me and gag me and drag me away. I can’t tell you how much it hurts to know he turned me in like that, but I suppose I shouldn’t be shocked, knowing his character like I do. It’s funny, I’ve always admired his sense of unwavering loyalty, even though this isn’t the first time it’s been completely misguided. To trust so completely that what you believe in is right and true—it’s something I’ve never been able to do myself. I’m always searching for ulterior motives or double-crossing. Which is one of the reasons he and I had our problems the first time around.
But now the tables are turned and he’s the one who doesn’t trust me. And for good reason, I suppose. I lied to him. I pretended to be someone I wasn’t. I led him to believe I wanted to become a vampire. No, not only a vampire, but his blood mate for eternity. The girl he’d been waiting to arrive for a thousand years.
And all the while I conspired against his bosses. The vampires he’s associated with for centuries. Of course he’d trust them over me. In his mind he just met me a few days ago. And I’ve done nothing but deceive him since.
Still, all the rationalization doesn’t dull the ache in my heart as I realize I’ve probably lost him forever. Any chance we had for a happily-ever-after in this new reality is gone for good.
Oh and the ever-after part? Turns out that might be shorter than expected as well.
After leaving me in some kind of holding cell for about an hour, the guards finally return, handcuffing me again and leading me into a private elevator, which shoots us fifty stories up. We emerge in a luxurious penthouse—as fancy as they get—with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the brightly lit Vegas strip. The place makes the suite in The Hangover look like a Motel 6 and is almost as badly trashed. Pyrus evidently likes partying hard in the city of sin.
Because, yes, we’re in the House Speaker’s suite, where I spot the man in question lounging on a fancy sofa, dressed in a silk gold-and-black dressing gown and sipping blood from a martini glass. Across from him sits Lucifent, who looks ridiculous in this lavish adultlike setting. A little boy, legs too short to even reach the floor, dressed in a tuxedo and downing shots of blood. It’s surreal, to say the least.
“Pyrus, have you seen the bottle of Louis the Sixteenth we’d opened to let breathe?” asks a voice to my left. I whirl around to see none other than Magnus walk into the room, holding a pair of wineglasses in his hands. He’s dressed more casually than the other two, in a pair of slouchy black jeans and a tight black T-shirt that accentuates his abs. (Not that I’m looking…) But it’s his eyes that strike me the most—the usually brilliant blue pupils are dull and sunken and shadowed. As if he’s lost quite a bit of sleep. He stops short as he sees me and a look of guilt flashes over his face. But he quickly recovers and turns away, focusing instead on his Master and the Speaker.
“Is this her?” Pyrus demands, rising from the sofa and giving me a critical once-over. “Why, she’s only a little girl.” He walks over to me and chu
cks me under the chin. “Are you the big, bad monster who’s got the entire Blood Coven shaking in their boots?”
“We’re hardly shaking,” Lucifent corrects, looking offended.
Pyrus turns on his heel, his expression full of condescension. “Well, maybe you should be,” he says sweetly. “Seeing as somehow this little human girl managed to outsmart your entire organization. Got through your blood-mate program, wormed her way into your inner circle. Hell”—he gestures to Magnus, who’s currently staring down at his feet as if they hold the secrets to the universe—“this one was ready to turn her into an actual vampire.” He rolls his eyes. “Imagine, having a vampire slayer as a member of the Blood Coven.” He laughs, as if it’s the most ridiculous thing in the world. If only he knew about my sister…
“I’m not a slayer,” I feel the need to interject. You know, since we’re being honest now.
Pyrus focuses back on me, stepping forward and invading my space. He’s a good-looking guy—but his breath reeks like rotten fish. I remember in the Lost Boys movie Rayne and I rented that bad breath was supposed to be a telltale sign of a vampire. As if his impressive set of fangs doesn’t already clue me in.
“Well, then you work for Slayer Inc.”
I square my jaw. “No. I don’t.”
SMACK! My head flies backward from the force of his sucker punch. I bite down to avoid screaming, and my mouth fills with the metallic taste of blood.
“I’ll ask you one more time,” Pyrus says, his jaw tightening. “And then I’ll stop playing nice.”
“You can ask a thousand times,” I growl, hocking the mouthful of blood onto the plush carpet at my feet. The vampires immediately stiffen. I’d forgotten how sensitive they could get over even the tiniest bit of the red stuff. Better be careful or I might end up as room service. “My answer will be the same. I’m not a slayer. I don’t work for Slayer Inc. I’m just a concerned party looking out for the best interests of the human race.”