“No one told me it was that big.”
He shook his head, unable to believe she could be so stupid after all she’d seen in her time with the Federation. “So, Kazdan offered you eternal afterlife and great wealth, and you jumped at the opportunity.”
“Look at me, Gabriel. I didn’t want to be some old hag you looked after out of pity. I didn’t want to die living in some poorly heated nursing home, surrounded by dozens of old geezers who can’t even hold their own water.”
Neither did he, but he doubted he’d ever abandon all he believed in just to gain life everlasting. Besides, in the end, even vampires died—and many by their own hand. Few were able to face the weight of the years, the weight of watching life come and go while they remained eternal. Sooner or later even they had to face the choices they’d made.
And if the haunted, almost hunted, light in Mary’s eyes was anything to go by, she was only now realizing that herself.
“We paid you well. And we would have looked after you.”
Her smile held a hint of sadness. “I know you would have. But that’s not what I wanted.”
What she wanted she could never have had. Not from Stephan, and not from himself. “And has Kazdan kept his end of the deal?”
The sadness increased. “Oh yes. Afterlife is more than I ever imagined.”
By the mocking note in her voice, he guessed her discoveries had been more bad than good. So many people discovered too late that vampirism was more than just eternal life and fast reflexes. It was never walking in the sun without head-to-toe total protection, and watching those you love die of old age and ending up eternally alone. At least Stephan had gone into the ritual with his eyes wide open.
He studied her for a minute longer, seeing the tiredness, the edge of fear, behind her haunted blue gaze. Then he leaned back in the chair and carefully shifted his hands off the desk.
“What now?” he asked softly.
“Now, I’d better get you to Kazdan.”
He painstakingly eased the cuff of the jacket over the knife sheath. The laser shifted, and he stopped, waiting until Mary appeared to relax again.
“You don’t have to give me to Kazdan. You can just turn around, walk away and let me take care of him for you.”
“Then I’d be left with the problem of making a comfortable living. I’ve thrown my lot in with Kazdan. Now I must live with it.”
The cuff came free of the sheath. He pulled the knife out with his fingertips. “Stephan and I would look after you.”
She laughed, a short, angry sound. “Do I look like a fool? After all I’ve done, do you really think I’d believe Stephan would let me live?”
He shrugged and gripped the knife, getting ready to throw it. He’d have only one chance. He’d better be accurate the first time.
“I’m sorry, Mary,” he repeated, voice soft. Sorry he couldn’t love her. Sorry he had to kill her.
He studied her for a moment, fixing her image in his mind, seeing beyond the layers of anger and warped jealousy to the gentle soul that must still be somewhere within her. She’d cared for him and Stephan as youngsters, guided them as wild teenagers. He’d never thought he’d be repaying all those years with death.
She nudged the laser toward the door. “Rise carefully and go through there.”
Goodbye, my friend, he thought, then rose and threw the knife in one smooth movement. He didn’t wait to see the result, but launched himself straight at her.
She was vampire fast and all but blurred as she leapt away from the throw—but he’d counted on her doing exactly that. The blade punched through her wrist, and the shock of the blow made her drop the laser. He hit her a heartbeat later, knocking her sideways, away from the weapon. He threw out an arm as he rolled to his feet, snagging the laser and firing quickly.
There was no sound, just a bright flash of white. Mary’s head, and the wall immediately behind her, became nothing more than black dust.
He turned and walked to the door, refusing to look back. He didn’t want his last image, his last memory, of her to be a headless corpse.
The corridor beyond was quiet. Darkness shadowed the corridor to his left. He headed right, figuring that whatever Kazdan intended with Sam, he wouldn’t be doing it in the dark. Or at least, he hoped he wasn’t. He’d barely walked ten feet when the man in question suddenly appeared.
“Laser down, Stern.”
He was tempted, very tempted, to simply blow the bastard’s brains out. Even though Kazdan had his gun aimed and ready, he had a decent chance. But with Sam still hostage, he simply couldn’t take the risk. For the second time that day, he eased a laser to the floor.
“Suzy,” Kazdan murmured, his gaze never wavering.