soul for
her?” he asked softly.
Rage filled her until she was shaking with it. She pushed him back, punctuating each of her words with another shove to his very solid chest. “Do not dare threaten my sister.”
Devlin grabbed her wrists with both of his hands. “I am not
the threat to her. You are.”
She kicked him in the shin and he grunted and released her.
“I would never harm Solange,” she spat.
“No, but you will be the death of her,” he said. “Did you
even consider that before you set out on this foolhardy venture?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You are, by all accounts, the most prolific slayer in the history of vampires. They will not let you live, they cannot. If it isn’t me who kills you, it will be someone else. You will not have your youth for ever, did you think of that? That one day
93
you will get older, slower? They will kill you eventually, but first they will hurt you. And there is only one thing you care about enough to cause the kind of pain they’ll want you to suffer.”
“Solange,” she whispered. “But she is in a convent and intends to take the vows. They cannot harm her on hallowed ground.”
“That is not entirely accurate. It’s taboo but it isn’t impossible. If a vampire were to harm her on hallowed ground, well let’s just say that God’s vengeance would eventually be satisfied. Your sister, however, would still be dead. Is that the sort of death you want for her?”
Justine knew well what kind of death that would be. It was a death that should have been hers. She remembered the tearing teeth and clawing fingernails and in that moment she hated Devlin for making her think of these things. She hated him for making her realize that she hadn’t thought beyond her own vengeance. Perhaps she was no better than the silly, selfish creatures who populated the court of the Sun King. There was a time, before tonight, when she had thought that what she did was important, that she made a difference. Perhaps though, what she did was more important to her own vanity. Did she execute these murderers for the greater good, or was it simply to prove to herself and to them that they may have beaten her once but they would not do so again? She was a fighter, a survivor. She didn’t know any other way to be.
“I hate you,” she whispered and turned away.
This time, he let her go.
94
For two weeks Devlin did his best to make her see reason
but his pleas fell on deaf ears, and more often than not these conversations led to a physical confrontation. The two of them fought across the length and breadth of Paris and Justine loved every moment of it. Devlin presented her with a fine sabre, even though the sword was not practical for fighting vampires. She lacked the upper-body strength needed to take a head with a sword, preferring her razor-sharp axe for such occasions. Devlin, however, seemed to enjoy watching her fight with a sword. He commented more than once on the beauty of her lithe, graceful movements.
Every night he tested the very limits of her skills and made her a better fighter. She would often goad him into a fight just to see what else he could teach her. It became a game to them and Justine could think no further into the future than where they
would meet the next night and for how long she would let him
kiss her when they grew weary of sparring.
Until the day the Mother Superior of the Ursulines arrived on her doorstep to tell her that two men in a closed carriage had snatched Solange off the side of the Rue Saint-Jacques in broad daylight.
Darkness could not come soon enough for Justine. Unsure of where the vampires would have taken her sister or what they would do to her, there was nothing she could do but wait until nightfall and her scheduled meeting with Devlin. She penned a note to the stage manager at the opera, explaining that her sister had been abducted and informing him that
her?” he asked softly.
Rage filled her until she was shaking with it. She pushed him back, punctuating each of her words with another shove to his very solid chest. “Do not dare threaten my sister.”
Devlin grabbed her wrists with both of his hands. “I am not
the threat to her. You are.”
She kicked him in the shin and he grunted and released her.
“I would never harm Solange,” she spat.
“No, but you will be the death of her,” he said. “Did you
even consider that before you set out on this foolhardy venture?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You are, by all accounts, the most prolific slayer in the history of vampires. They will not let you live, they cannot. If it isn’t me who kills you, it will be someone else. You will not have your youth for ever, did you think of that? That one day
93
you will get older, slower? They will kill you eventually, but first they will hurt you. And there is only one thing you care about enough to cause the kind of pain they’ll want you to suffer.”
“Solange,” she whispered. “But she is in a convent and intends to take the vows. They cannot harm her on hallowed ground.”
“That is not entirely accurate. It’s taboo but it isn’t impossible. If a vampire were to harm her on hallowed ground, well let’s just say that God’s vengeance would eventually be satisfied. Your sister, however, would still be dead. Is that the sort of death you want for her?”
Justine knew well what kind of death that would be. It was a death that should have been hers. She remembered the tearing teeth and clawing fingernails and in that moment she hated Devlin for making her think of these things. She hated him for making her realize that she hadn’t thought beyond her own vengeance. Perhaps she was no better than the silly, selfish creatures who populated the court of the Sun King. There was a time, before tonight, when she had thought that what she did was important, that she made a difference. Perhaps though, what she did was more important to her own vanity. Did she execute these murderers for the greater good, or was it simply to prove to herself and to them that they may have beaten her once but they would not do so again? She was a fighter, a survivor. She didn’t know any other way to be.
“I hate you,” she whispered and turned away.
This time, he let her go.
94
For two weeks Devlin did his best to make her see reason
but his pleas fell on deaf ears, and more often than not these conversations led to a physical confrontation. The two of them fought across the length and breadth of Paris and Justine loved every moment of it. Devlin presented her with a fine sabre, even though the sword was not practical for fighting vampires. She lacked the upper-body strength needed to take a head with a sword, preferring her razor-sharp axe for such occasions. Devlin, however, seemed to enjoy watching her fight with a sword. He commented more than once on the beauty of her lithe, graceful movements.
Every night he tested the very limits of her skills and made her a better fighter. She would often goad him into a fight just to see what else he could teach her. It became a game to them and Justine could think no further into the future than where they
would meet the next night and for how long she would let him
kiss her when they grew weary of sparring.
Until the day the Mother Superior of the Ursulines arrived on her doorstep to tell her that two men in a closed carriage had snatched Solange off the side of the Rue Saint-Jacques in broad daylight.
Darkness could not come soon enough for Justine. Unsure of where the vampires would have taken her sister or what they would do to her, there was nothing she could do but wait until nightfall and her scheduled meeting with Devlin. She penned a note to the stage manager at the opera, explaining that her sister had been abducted and informing him that
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