Andrus looked down into Reyna's icy green eyes. "I understand now." He leaned down, kissed her lips, and slid his hand from her waist to her hip. He was about to go for the knife strapped to her outer thigh, when-
"Nice try." She slipped the dagger from its sheath and held it out in her hand. "Looking for this?"
Andrus tried to swipe it from her hands. Reyna lost her grip. The knife fell to the floor.
"Reeeyna!" A deep voice suddenly howled with rage from the corner of the room.
Niccolo.
His eyes flew to Helena who was still on the floor struggling to breathe. "Why is she here? Who did this to her?" He then looked to Andrus, bare in the middle of the room, pointing at Reyna as the culpable party. "I'll fucking kill you," Niccolo said to Reyna. "Nobody touches my mate."
Reyna took a few steps back and smiled. "Well, what can I say? I had planned to kill her so you might work for me again. But, what the hey, since you're here."
She pulled a long, razor sharp machete from her thigh-high boot. "Welcome to my party. Who's up for a round of piñata?"
***
Helena fought to suck the air into her lungs and push it out again through her scorching throat. The pain was excruciating.
In the back of her mind, she could hear the conversation between Andrus and Reyna, and for a moment, she believed things might end joyously for the two. In a dysfunctional, warped kind of way. Clearly, there was a valuable lesson to be learned in all this: couples, no matter what species, should have open communication. Honesty was the key to happiness. Yes. She felt the makings of a good self-help book in all this. She could gear it towards immortals and put her academic background to use.
But Andrus turned on Reyna, and the two were suddenly at it again. Helena felt another book opportunity: The Art of Letting Go of the Past, for Immortals.
Then, her knight in shining armor, Niccolo, appeared in the room. She'd thought her vampire would sift her away to safety and that she'd finally get to tell him the truth about what had happened with Viktor. But hope was short lived when Niccolo announced his intention to kill Reyna.
"I vote you and I kill Reyna together. I was about to do so myself," Andrus suggested to Niccolo.
Niccolo pointed one of his two gleaming swords at Andrus. "Stay where you are. I handed you over to Reyna, hoping she'd kill you. So I'm pretty damned sure you and I are not on the same team."
"Got me there," Andrus replied with a grin.
Helena senses heightened to a level she'd never imagined possible while she watched the three facing off. She inched across the floor, scooting several feet to the knife. She didn't know what she'd do with it, nevertheless having a weapon seemed like a good idea.
"How about I kill you?" Reyna pointed to Andrus. "Then you." She pointed to Niccolo. "And that little blond slut last."
Had the queen just called her a slut? That was like calling a Twinkie "a healthy snack." Or, like calling Cimil "well balanced." It wasn't even in the ballpark.
"At least I'm not a psycho immortal spinster," Helena retorted with a low, gravely voice, purposefully bating the queen to pull her attention away from Niccolo.
Reyna's eyes flared. "You die first!" She jumped at Helena.
Andrus was on Reyna's back in the blink of an eye.
Reyna turned, machete in hand, but Andrus hung on. If it weren't a life and death battle, the scene of a naked Andrus clinging to the queen's back like a rabid monkey might actually be funny.
The queen swiveled on her heels, back and forth, trying to shake Andrus off. She moved so fast, Niccolo had no choice but to stand back. Andrus suddenly lost his grip and tumbled to the floor. Reyna turned, but instead of going for Andrus, she lunged at Niccolo. He side-stepped her and she flew past him, skidding across the floor.
A look of unrelenting rage in his eyes, he raised his sword.
Time stood still.
Helena watched the blade barreling down like a hammer hell bent on slicing the world in two. How Helena did it was a mystery, but she moved herself between the blade and Reyna, hoping to stop the queen's death. Without Reyna, there was no Niccolo. There was no world. This was it.
***
Horror overtook Niccolo as he stared down at Helena's wide blue eyes, her body draped over Reyna like a shield. His sword had plunged straight into Helena's abdomen. Blood poured from the gaping wound.
"No! Helena!" He slid her off Reyna. His entire world shifted on its axis.
Niccolo had lived an obscenely long time, and he'd made his fair share of miscalculations. Regret was no stranger to this immortal. But if he gathered up every moment of remorse, sadness, anger, and pain, and then condensed them into one, it would only represent a fraction of the despair that struck him down at this very moment.
Nothing in the past, present, or future would ever matter as much as this very moment, for if she died … he'd destroy the entire fucking world, down to the last blade of grass with his own two hands to take his revenge on fate.
This. Isn't. Meant. To. Be.
Blood flowed like an unstoppable river over his lap, forming a crawling puddle on the floor. She could not survive such a wound. And if he tried to turn her now, his blood would simply run right out of her.
But he could not stop himself from hoping, trying. "Please, Helena. Drink."
She pushed his hand away. "You're too late," she whispered.
"No! Helena! Drink!" he refused to let her give up.
Again, she shoved his dripping wrist away.
"Why?" He felt his soul sinking into an abyss, into hell. "Why did you do it?"
Her hand trembling, she managed to raise her arm and stroke the side of his face. "To save you. Why else? If you kill her, you die. Everyone dies." Her sky blue eyes were filled with such love. And pain.
"I don't care about everyone! You are all that matters," he bellowed.
Helena smiled gently. "That's very sweet, Vampire. I love you."
Her eyes slowly closed. Niccolo heard her heart rate slow to an almost undetectable murmur.
No! He had to save her. There was still time.
He could stitch her wound and fill her full of his own blood. He scooped her in his arms and lifted her. His mind flipped through every memory of every hospital he'd ever been to. He was about to sift when he suddenly noticed the room was silent. Too silent.
"Cristo. No!" He'd been so wrapped up in Helena, he hadn't noticed that his sword had run through his beloved right into the queen's heart. His sword was forged with a silver alloy, especially designed to kill vampires. A direct hit to the heart was just as fatal as decapitation.
Reyna. Was. Dead.
No! No! No!
But there was no denying it; her eyes were as cloudy as a week old fish, and her body was disintegrating.
"Gods no!"
He could care less about Reyna, but how would he save his woman? His body now felt like he'd been submerged in hot liquid metal. Reyna's blood-the blood flowing through his veins which had kept him immortal all these years-was withering away. In a matter of moments, all that he was would be no more.
Helena …
Clutching his beloved like a cherished broken doll, his knees buckled. "I love you, Helena. Love you like no other man has ever loved a woman in the history of the world." He brushed the tendrils of her honey locks from her forehead. "I know a part of you still hears me, and you must know that you've meant everything to me. You are the light I've been deprived of for thirteen centuries. Do you hear me, woman? I love you!"
With those solemn words of desperation, he realized her heartbeat was gone. He never knew so much pain could be possible for one being to bear. What had he done to deserve this? Wasn't it enough that he'd had his human life, a life filled with love for his brothers and family, ripped away? Wasn't it enough that despite his loss, he hadn't crumbled? That instead, he'd chosen to dedicate his existence to protecting the innocent and killing Obscuros? He'd asked for very little in return: his freedom, which he no longer cared about, and now, for his mate to live.
Despair filled every crevice of his soul as he sat on his haunches, paralyzed while Helena died in his arms and his own life slipped slowly from his body, preventing him from saving her. "I will find you in another life, my love. I will always find you. We are meant to be together … forever."
A small chuckle came from Andrus who was curled up on the floor writhing in pain. Niccolo had almost forgotten about him. Black splotches covered Andrus' body. The spots were turning to gaping holes, some the size of grapefruit. He groaned as the holes seemed to be filling in with new pink flesh. The vampire blood in his body was dying, and the light of the gods was repairing him. Andrus' gamble had paid off.
"I'm finally free," he laughed quietly, his eyes empty.
Niccolo gathered up his strength and walked slowly to the bed with Helena cradled in his arms. He laid her down on the soft velvet comforter before taking his place beside her. The last memory he wanted was of sweet, beautiful Helena.