“Yet you sound excited.”
She turned to look at me. “Aren’t you? Five hundred years, with everything the same. Suddenly, nothing is. It’s frightening, yes, but isn’t it a little exciting, too?”
I didn’t answer, but not because she was wrong. But because—
“What’s going on?” I asked, because something was. Something that looked a lot like Olfun, booking it out of the house and down the street, with something in his arms. Only no. Not something, someone. Aiden.
And I suddenly remembered what he’d told me. About how a lot of people who’d opposed Efridis’ plans for her son were suddenly coming on board, now that they knew Æsubrand no longer wanted the gods back. I just hadn’t realized that Olfun was one of them!
“You won’t be fast enough,” Dorina told me, standing up. “Not with our leg as it is.”
“And you’ll never defeat that bitch!” I was standing, too, feeling pain course through my body and cursing my weakness.
“Perhaps she isn’t here—”
“She is!” I pointed to the top of the little hill, just down the road, where a couple streets crossed. Efridis was still in white, the pure color gleaming under the moonlight, lighting her up like a beacon.
“I have to try,” Dorina said, pulling away from me and spiraling up into the sky.
And then just stayed there, because no, she didn’t.
There were fey streaming out of the house, and chasing after Olfun. But his legs were longer and he had a head start. They’d never catch him in time.
But someone else would.
There was a sudden, terrifying screech from overhead, like a thousand nails on a thousand chalkboards. And a strange, crystalline sound, and a rush of wind so sudden and so severe, that it knocked me to my knees. But I was still up high and there was a gap in the trees, and through it I saw—
Something that would forever be etched in my memory, no matter how long I lived. A huge dragon, black winged and purple tinged, with frightening sunburst eyes, sailing overhead, its body blocking out the moon. As well as the light reflecting off the tiny-looking woman on the ground, who barely had a chance to realize what was happening before the dragon dove—silent, awe-inspiring, death incarnate.
And then Claire ate Efridis.
Epilogue
Burbles was looking grim.
I almost didn’t recognize him, with his normally jolly face dour and his arms crossed over his chest in what should have looked like a protective gesture, but mostly looked like he was trying to keep from strangling someone. I smiled and waved.
He did not smile back.
Mircea sidled up behind me. “What have you done to poor Vincent?”
“Saddled him with sixteen in-need-of-a-home vampires.”
“Saddled him?”
“I told them they could stay in my consular suite, until they figured out their housing situation.” I looked over my shoulder at his amusement. “Well, it’s not like I’m going to be living here.”
We were at the consul’s, waiting for the ceremony to finally confirm us newbies, which was following a bunch of other ceremonies. Because that’s apparently all vamps ever do: get dressed up and parade around, trying to impress people. Which might explain Burbles’ current attitude: Ray’s guys weren’t looking so impressive.
“And where will you be living?” Mircea murmured, leaning on the balcony beside me.
I turned my head to look at him.
“Why?”
“I saw Louis-Cesare a few moments ago. He was looking . . . absurdly pleased with himself.”
“Are you about to get all paternal and complain that I didn’t invite you to the ceremony?”