Lucian was coming out of The Gate when he felt the familiar prickling sensation at the nape of his neck.
He hated that bloody feeling since it meant only one thing and right now he wasn’t in the mood for a fight. Dawn was coming and all he wanted to do was get back to Randal Manor to sleep the long day away.
Still warm with the blood of the woman he’d fed from, he stopped in mid-step. Tearing his yearning stare off his car, he pulled free his sword.
He felt the sensation of being watched and looked across the road and into the trees. Though he knew something was out there watching him he couldn’t see it.
Still, he sensed it waiting for him.
Call it instinct but he knew whoever was watching him was the same son of a bitch who killed those girls and left them for him to find.
Good. Come out from hiding you sadistic prick.
Listening to the night, Lucian reached out with all of his senses to locate exactly where the renegades were lying in wait for him.
He sensed an ancient death all around him. It made the air heavy as he searched the darkness for the renegade he believed to be stalking him.
Frustratingly, there was nothing to see. Nor could he hear anything besides the quiet sounds of the country summer night. That is, until a faint whispering of his name reached him.
He knew that voice, one he hadn’t heard in seven hundred years.
“Lucian…”
Lucian’s hand came off his sword. Suddenly weak, he went down to his knees, as his past came back to him in a myriad of sights and
sounds. He shook his head as if trying to shake the voice out of his head.
It couldn’t be. That voice didn’t belong here. His mind must playing tricks on him.
Suddenly, and completely unbidden, a tear of blood slipped from his eye to travel down his cheek. This was the first time he wept since so long ago when the monster overtook the man and everything he’d ever known was lost in a single moment of madness.
Slapping the tear away, all he did was smear it across his cheek.
Lucian forced the memory from his mind. He couldn’t allow himself to remember that night when he dragged his starving and mindless self back to Penwick. The memories were too painful.
He’d spent the last centuries begging God to forgive him for the sins committed that night. Yet with every plea he knew it was a forgiveness he’d never get nor deserved.
Lucian finally caught sight of the renegade who hid in the shadows.
He pushed himself up and stepped out onto the road. There it was—the faint and shadowy silhouette of a man.
He came meandering out from between the two trees. Dressed all in black, he reminded Lucian of moving night. His burning silver eyes cut through the darkness. The renegade pierced him with such stark hatred that Lucian felt as if he was going to shatter under its weight.
A face he knew well slowly came into sight as the vampire walked closer. A face so like his own, yet so different. He couldn’t be seeing this.
Not now and not here.
Yet the man came closer. Close enough now to see every nuance of the renegade’s face…
Renegade.
Jesus Christ, it couldn’t be. “Stephan.”
Lucian’s mouth formed a name he hadn’t spoken in six hundred and ninety-five years.
The vampire came right over to him. Arrogantly. Daring him without words to strike.
Normally, Lucian would have attacked already, taking the renegade’s head with little effort. But not this time. He could no more fight this
vampire than he could fight one of his fellow Templars. Instead, all he could do was take in the sight of the man standing before him. Face to face with his past.
Face to face with his sins.
They were the same height, their hair the same color brown. Though now Lucian’s was longer, at one time it was as neatly cut.
The differences of the two were as striking as their similarities. Where Lucian’s face held the edge of a man who knew too much war and death, Stephan’s possessed a softer, more youthful look to it, bearing the look of a man who was never touched by the ugliness of life.
At least not until Lucian returned to Penwick, bringing Hell with him.
Oh sweet God, what have I done?
“No,” Lucian’s mind rebelled at the sight of Stephan, at what he’d become.
Stephan’s lips drew back, revealing fangs. Lucian hissed out a sharp breath and staggered backward. “Surprised to see me, Lucian?”
“You’re not Stephan.” His hand shot to his sword. “Stephan is dead.”
He pulled the blade free and raised it to strike as the events of the last weeks rushed him and all the pieces fell neatly into place. It all made sense now. Why it was his name written in blood and why he couldn’t place the scent he detected.
He couldn’t place it because he couldn’t accept it.
His arm dropped, the tip of his sword scratching across the concrete of the road. Stephan laughed, evil delight gleaming in his eyes. Four other vampires came out from the trees. One of them Lucian recognized as Jude.
Oh God, when the others found out Allie’s ex-boyfriend had joined the ranks of the renegades they were going to tear him apart. Especially if they ever found out Jude’s part in whatever it was Stephan had planned.
“Easy, dog,” Stephan said nastily. “I am Stephan and I am dead.”
He stepped even closer to Lucian, almost daring him to attack.
Lucian didn’t strike. He couldn’t. The Knight, who faced down entire armies with a pride that earned him the respect of kings, took a step
back. The four renegades came to stand by Stephan. Lucian knew he could take them all. He was that good of a fighter. He had to be in order to be worthy of the Knights Templar. Yet, no matter how he tried, he couldn’t bring himself to take them out. For the first time since it was placed in his hands, Lucian’s sword slipped from his fingers and clamored on the ground. One of the renegades rushed to grab it. Lucian did nothing, just watched as his weapon was dragged away.
“Look at him.” Stephan motioned to Lucian arrogantly. “Look at the Templar. He’s nothing but a coward.”
“Don’t do this, Stephan,” Lucian warned between gritted teeth.
Stephan tilted his head and regarded Lucian coldly. “Oh, but I have to. I have to make you suffer as you’ve made me suffer.”
Suffer.
Yes. Lucian had brought so much pain to Stephan. More than he could ever imagine. He did to him, the one thing that would break a man as religious as Stephan had been. He removed him from God’s grace.
As he’d done a millions times before, Lucian wished he’d never gone back to Penwick. He wished with everything he was that he could take it all back. Undo the evil he had done. But it was far too late now, his sins finally caught up with him.
His gaze devouring Stephan, he died again at the hatred etched all over his face. It radiated from him, a tangible force between them. The fury blazing in his silver eyes burned him where he stood. Lucian never meant for this to happen. He’d never meant to hurt them. He’d only wanted to go home.
He should have stayed away. So goddamned far away…
“You were the one who kidnapped and murdered those women.”
An arrogant grin spread across Stephan’s face. “I left them as gifts to you. I wonder if you would have relished their sweet pleas and anguished cries as much as I did. After all, you proved you do love to prey on the innocent and the defenseless.”
“Stephan…” Lucian went to reach out to him, but the vampire slapped his hand away.
“You don’t touch me,” he snarled viciously. “I’m going to make you
hurt so bad you’re going to beg me to kill you.”
Lucian shook his head sadly. “This was never about finding the Daystar was it? It was about me.”
Stephan laughed nastily and shook his head. “Of course. The Daystar means nothing to me. What need have I with such power? I never even wanted this, but I had no choice in the matter did I? You took that from me. You took it from all from us.” He turned to his companions.
“Through Allison Parker you can find the Daystar.”
Hearing that spurred Lucian into action.
With the roar of a wild animal, Lucian attacked Stephan, grabbing him by the throat and lifting him clear off the ground. When the others came at him, one brandishing Lucian’s own sword, he easily knocked them away one by one with no effort at all. Even though the tip of the sword opened a deep wound down his cheek, he held fast to Stephan.
He squeezed the throat of the renegade. “Your fight is with me. Hurt her and I’ll destroy you.”
“Do it,” Stephan taunted. He didn’t fight Lucian’s hold on him. “You killed me once, Lucian. Think you can do it again?”
Lucian felt as if the archangel Michael tore out his heart all over again.
Lucian wasn’t going to play this game. He sinned once. He’d not do so again.
With a disgusted grunt, Lucian tossed Stephan back.
He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t kill his brother twice.