cheeks as she clutched his nephew’s head to her chest, blood pooling in a widening circle around them. “Save him.”
The weight on Nicodemus’ soul had already begun to settle. “No,” he said simply. Brokenly. It had been the same after he’d lost Bastien’s sister, Émilie. After their parents had paid for Nicodemus’ greatest mistake.
“I refuse to accept that,” Celine shouted. “Do something. Don’t let him die.”
To his right and left, Nicodemus felt his immortal children stirring. Boone openly wept. Farther away, Jae stared at a point of nothingness, his features wan, his fingers stained by the evidence of Nigel’s final reckoning. A cloud of anger surrounded Hortense, Madeleine swiping a lone tear from beneath her sister’s chin. Along the periphery, Odette inched forward as if to subvert his orders, her sable eyes wide. “Stop,” Nicodemus commanded. They all straightened like soldiers. “I will not be defied in my wishes. Sébastien was always meant to live and die as a mortal. Nothing is worth the price of this curse,” he said, his tone firm. “I swore to myself I would never turn a member of my human family into a bloodthirsty monster.”
“It’s worth any price in the world if Bastien lives,” Celine pleaded.
A hard light shone in Nicodemus’ eyes. “Sébastien has already proven he is too weak for this life. He did not heed my warnings when he fell in love with a mortal girl, and now his life is forfeit. If he were one of us, it would be the same. Our enemies would exploit these weaknesses. And there would always be something left for him to lose.”
“Then protect him. Make him stronger. Just save him,” she cried.
Nicodemus stared down at the cursed girl. The cause of his nephew’s undoing. He knew Celine loved Sébastien. Could see the truth of it in her haunted gaze. And it left him cold. Bleak. Unfeeling. “I stayed away so my enemies would not be drawn to Sébastien. So they would not be tempted. I surrounded him with my immortal children so that they would always protect him. I sacrificed everything I loved to keep him safe.” Nicodemus inhaled, a knot of pain taking shape around the emptiness in his heart. “My family has always been my weakness. And now my enemies have destroyed me with it.” He shook his head. “Love is an affliction to our kind. I will not remake Bastien only to watch him fall prey to it again. I’m sorry.”
“What do you want me to do?” Celine whispered. “What can I say that will make you save him?”
“Nothing. Whatever we are in our human lives becomes magnified by immortality. What Bastien loves now will be an even greater weakness.” Nicodemus studied Celine, watching his words shatter her last hope. “Forget all this, child. Live your life apart from this wretched world.” An approximation of sympathy laced his features. Nicodemus turned toward his immortal children, ready to take leave. To sit with his grief, pondering all he had lost tonight. To flee this cursed city forever.
“What if I promised to forget Bastien?” Celine said from behind him.
Nicodemus did not move.
She stumbled to her feet in a rustle of black taffeta, the wound at her neck filling the air with an intoxicating scent. “You told me you could help me forget. That Bastien would respect my choice. If I forgot him—if I was no longer a weakness—would you save him?”
Nicodemus took a step toward the doors of the cathedral.
“You said there were many paths to happiness,” she continued. “If I can choose a different one, will you not do the same?”
He stopped. Turned to look at Marceline Rousseau over his shoulder. Her hands were still bound, her body covered in blood, a great deal of it her own. Still the girl refused to capitulate. A part of Nicodemus admired her stubbornness. Her unwillingness to fold in the face of such odds.
His gaze fell on his nephew’s battered body. On the last signs of life lingering within. Sighing in defeat, Nicodemus looked away.
“Bastien is the last of your kin. Are you ready to walk this earth alone?” Celine yelled. “Because I would rather lose him forever than watch him die.”
Nicodemus met the eyes of his immortal children. Saw the weight of his loss reflected in their faces.
No. It is not meant to be.
He straightened and began walking away.
“Nicodemus!” Celine screamed, the anguish in her voice soaring to the rafters above. “Nicodemus Saint Germain!”
Again Nicodemus stopped, the echo of his family’s name circling beneath