Me sitting on a chair in a white hospital room, my eyes dark and terrified.
Me curled up in a small bed, clenching a teddy bear.
Me grinning as I cut the cake at my tenth birthday party with Roland and Peter.
Me pulling a gift from beneath the Christmas tree.
Me covered in chocolate batter the first time I tried to make Nate a birthday cake.
Me holding the ragged white cat I rescued when I was fourteen.
Me standing in the doorway, wearing a pale yellow Faerie dress.
They were all Nate’s memories of me, of my life with him, and each one of them glowed with a father’s love for his child. I’d spent my life missing my dad, and all along Nate had thought of me as a daughter. It filled me with bittersweet joy to realize the depth of his love after he was gone.
More of Nate’s memories, dark and terrifying, flooded my mind. I saw an exotic red-haired woman in a revealing black dress. Ava Bryant, she said in a sultry voice. The next instant, her face twisted and fangs sprouted from her mouth as she struck. I heard Nate moaning in pain and saying, I’ll never tell you where she is. The memories became hazy after that, and I knew it was during his transition. The last coherent thought he had before the vamhir demon possessed him completely was how glad he was that I would not be alone.
The images and voices faded away into a gray mist and it was just me and the demon again. The demon looked darker and harder with small cracks forming in its surface, and the heart beat in a weak irregular rhythm. The heart that had once held so much love for me. I would not let it suffer any longer.
It was love, not anger, that filled me as power exploded from me in a white flash so brilliant it blinded me through my closed eyelids. I felt the vampire’s death throes, and I knew the instant the demon shattered into nothingness and the heart stopped beating forever. A wail of grief welled up from deep inside me, and I heard a voice from my own memory. Those who hunt you will ultimately give you the power to become the thing they fear the most.
* * *
Far above me, a pinpoint of light shone like a beacon, and I swam through the murky darkness toward it. My arms and legs were heavy, threatening to drag me back down. It would be so easy to just drift in the warm darkness, but the light called to me. I pushed forward with every ounce of willpower until the light grew brighter and I heard muffled sounds: voices, beeping, music. Wait. Was that . . . Carly Simon?
“It’s been two damn days. Why hasn’t she woken up?”
“Physically, there is nothing wrong with her,” a woman said. “All I can guess is that her mind needs to heal from the trauma she suffered and she will wake when she is ready.”
“You guess?”
“Nikolas, calm down. There is nothing to be gained from yelling at the healers. None of us has seen anything like this before.”
“Dude, I wouldn’t want to wake up either with you shouting like that.”
Was that Roland?
“I think I just saw her eyes move!”
And Peter?
A hand touched my shoulder. “Sara, it’s Roland. Can you hear me?”
I tried to move my hand, but it was made of lead. I wanted to grind my teeth in frustration, but I couldn’t do that either.
“There! Her lips moved. See, Pete, I told you the music was a good idea.”
I heard people moving around and then warmth encased my hand. “Sara? It’s time to wake up, moy malen’kiy voin.”
“I’m trying, damn it!” I wanted to say, but no words would come forth.
“Ah, is our beauty still sleeping?” asked a new voice. “Perhaps a kiss from her prince is all she needs.”
“This is no time for your humor, Desmund.” Nikolas’s voice was low and harsh, but his hold on my hand was gentle. Beneath his hard demeanor, I sensed worry and fear. Nikolas, afraid? Impossible.
“On the contrary, laughter is just what she needs. It is far too gloomy in here . . . and what is that awful noise?”
“Hey, she likes this music,” Roland retorted defensively.
“If you gentlemen don’t keep it down, you are all going to have to leave,” the healer interjected with calm authority.
Voices rose in argument, and the room got even noisier. The sounds grated on my ears.
“Stop it,” I yelled, but it came out as a hoarse whisper. It was enough to make the room go silent. Forcing my eyes open, I saw an unshaven face and a pair of shadowed gray eyes. “Hi.”
Nikolas’s hand squeezed mine, and his lips curved into a smile that plucked at an invisible string attached to my heart. “Hi, yourself.”
“What’s going on? Why is everyone in my room?” I coughed the last word and wondered why my mouth and throat were so parched.