faint smile. “Are you asking if I knew William Shakespeare? No. By all accounts, the play is based on an old Scandinavian folktale. But if he had put words into my mouth, they would have been Laertes’, not Hamlet’s.”
Since I couldn’t remember which one was Laertes, I held my tongue.
Stefan looked into the distance. “To hell, allegiance!” he murmured. “Vows to the blackest devil! Conscience and grace to the profoundest pit! I dare damnation. To this point I stand.” His voice dropped an octave, deep and menacing. “Let come what comes. Only I’ll be revenged most thoroughly for my father.”
I shivered.
Words, they were just words. But they were words that evoked a moment that defined the entirety of Stefan Ludovic’s existence. I hadn’t forgotten how Cooper had described it: that one terrible, horrible, glorious moment that could never be taken back, that could never be regained. The moment that he craved to re-create, forever and always.
And couldn’t.
I wanted to say something profound and reassuring, but the truth was, I had no idea what that might be.
So instead I left.
Thirty
Two days later—or to be more precise, two days and a night later—I returned to the House of Shadows.
In accordance with the instructions on the engraved invitation, Jen and I arrived at eleven thirty. The temperature had dropped and it was a chilly night, more like October than September. We stood shivering in the courtyard for a few minutes, waiting for Cody to pull up in a cruiser and join us. God knows what would happen if things did go wrong, but at least he looked reassuring and official in his cold-weather police duty jacket.
“Are you okay?” he asked Jen.
She gave him a wan smile. “Not really.”
“Let’s get this over with.” I banged the door knocker.
Unsurprisingly, the undead doorman had a problem with Cody’s presence. I suppose the only surprising thing was that he didn’t have a problem with mine. Jen was prepared to claim me as family if necessary, but apparently being Hel’s liaison included the privilege of attending vampire risings.
Lucky me.
In the end, Lady Eris was summoned, arriving in a cloud of irritation and impatience. “There is no justification for your presence here, wolf.”
Cody planted his hands on his utility belt. “Are you kidding? There’s a dead woman on the premises.”
Lady Eris shot him a glare. “Unrisen, not dead.”
He shrugged. “Until she rises, she’s dead. And as long as she’s dead, police presence is justified.”
“He’s right,” I added, trying my best to sound authoritative. “He’s here at my request. Just in case.”
“There is no time to argue the matter.” She pursed her carmine lips and turned her glare on me. “Fine. The wolf may remain on the premises, but he may not attend the ceremony. Once he has confirmed the initiate has risen, he will depart. Does that suffice to resolve the issue?”
Cody and I exchanged a quick glance. He gave me a faint nod. It was probably the best compromise we were going to get.
“Yeah,” I said. “It does.”
With that settled, the denizens of the House of Shadows assembled to file through the manor into the . . . crypt, I guess you’d call it. Back in the day, it was probably a cellar storage room, with stairs leading down from an aisle adjacent to an incongruous kitchen. As Jen and I were escorted past it, I wondered briefly why Lady Eris’s vampire brood hadn’t disassembled it, then remembered that their mortal acolytes still required human sustenance.
Anyway.
The walls of the crypt were covered with stucco, and dozens of candles burned in niches and on stands arrayed around the cellar. A fresco of the night sky adorned the ceiling, smudged with decades’ worth of candle smoke. A big slab of marble like a sarcophagus sat hulking in the center of the space.
Jen let out a faint sound, reaching involuntarily for my hand. I grabbed hers, squeezing hard.
Bethany Cassopolis lay motionless on the marble slab, looking bloodless and pretty fucking dead. Her black hair was fanned out over the marble, her hands were folded on her chest, and her normally Mediterranean olive-toned skin was pale and ashen. The fact that she looked so much like her sister made it even more unnerving. Weirdly, a length of scarlet ribbon had been run beneath her chin and tied in a bow atop her head.
I took a deep breath. After the night’s chill outside, the air in the crypt was close and stifling, but although I was beginning to sweat under the leather of