Page 134 of Blood Lovers

They do not follow me into the lodge. Even Echo hangs back, probably waiting for permission to join in on what comes next.

But I don’t give her that permission. As much as I like her, this is a moment for three people only.

Ryet stirs in my arms as I climb the stairs towards the room where my little Black witch awaits.

“Shhh,” I tell him, right into his ear. “It’s almost over now, Ryet.”

“I…” He moans this word out. “I… I can see her, Paul. I can see her.”

“Good,” I whisper back. “Good. Say goodbye to your Jane, Ryet. Say goodbye to all of them now. This will be the last time you will ever have this pain.”

CHAPTER THIRTY - TWO - SYRSEE

Just tell me what to do.

They crossed the veil. And they never came back.

Lucia’s words echo in my head and then I involuntarily shiver.

They never came out of the dreamwalk.

And wasn’t I just thinking about this? Did I just give this fear some kind of… reality when I articulated it in my head?

I did.

So I just scoff. “Of course they didn’t.” Then I scoff again.

Lucia places a hand on my spirit shoulder and I brush it off because I don’t like her. She shoots me a look that says, Really? then gets past it. “Now listen. We don’t have a lot of time. Ryet is here—”

“He is?”

“Can you please not interrupt? I’m trying to tell you the plan.” She closes her eyes for a moment, then opens them again. “He’s down the driveway. There was some sort of crash. But Paul is there, so forget about Ryet in the present for just a moment, please. Because what you need to be concerned about is Ryet’s future.”

“What about it?”

“He’s Paul’s firstborn. At least, he will be. Once he’s drained you and the transformation can proceed.”

“Paul’s really turning him into a vampire?” I recall the words Ryet spat at me back at the spa. You have turned me into him, Syrsee. That’s what you’ve done.

“Oh, he really is. And Ryet doesn’t want this, Syrsee. You’ve been with him. You know this. Right?”

I can’t deny it. Though I have a bad feeling about where this is going, I can’t deny it. “No. He doesn’t.”

“He doesn’t. He wants to die, Syrsee. He wants to get on with it.”

“Get on with it?”

“He wants to go to Hell, darling. He wants to die.”

Everything inside me—every little bit of hope that I was holding onto that somehow I would be able to keep Ryet, that we really could run away, and get jobs somewhere in some little city, and just banter and fuck—well, this is the moment when that hope dies.

He’s going to Hell.

We’re all going to Hell.

But while we wait for that, we’re going to be here, which is… pre-Hell.

I know where this is going. I know what Lucia is going to say next, but it still shocks me when the words come out of her mouth.