Now he could see it for what it was. In the coldness of his clear thoughts, he understood. Succubus. Either one had taken her form, or…she had become a demon herself.
No. It had been her. He would have seen through a lie. Like you saw through the vampire who was in your midst for two days and you were too bullheaded to notice?
And he had fallen prey to her like a fool. He remembered her over him, and being buried deep in her fire. Shame made his stomach twist in disgust, and he wanted to be sick.
He was a failure. Not only in killing Dracula—but as a friend, a mentor, and as a man. He had betrayed Bella the moment he didn’t notice she was gone. He betrayed her when he fell victim to his own temptation and sin.
The only thing left was to let God judge him. “Let me die.”
“Oh, you will. Just not yet.” The man—or monster, it was hard to tell—stood from where he was crouched. Alfonzo wondered if that would be the last of it. He let his cheek fall against the grit and grime of the dirty stone floor. If it was the last thing he felt, he would be grateful. He was a wretch. He could not even greet his death with honor. He had not fallen by the blade, dying in combat against his enemy.
He had fallen victim to lust.
Lust for a girl he had sworn to protect. The haze of desire that had driven him to madness did not keep the images from flashing through his mind. The memories of what he had done, all the pleasure he had experienced, and how eager he had been to defile her.
He could not pretend his desire had been a lie. But he never would have acted on it without intervention. Without the poison of a succubus sinking into his mind. He was weak. The city was now doomed for nothing.
I will burn in Hell for what I have done. And I will deserve it. God, forgive me. God, please, take pity on me.
The man picked up his ankle. Alfonzo grunted. “Let me die—”
The other voice only laughed. “Pathetic.”
Then he began to move. The man was dragging him out of the room. The edges of the rough-hewn stone dug into his back and exposed flesh. He was still naked. Bits of rock scraped at him, opened wounds, and stung him. His head bounced painfully of the first step of a stone stairwell. Then a second. Then a third.
Alfonzo hollered and prayed for death. But darkness took him instead.
Maxine sensed Vlad’s presence a second before he appeared, standing at her back. Hands settled on her shoulders, heavy and sure. He moved to fold his arms around her waist in an embrace, lacing his fingers with hers as he held her.
He was cold. But the smell of roses and the feel of the strength in him lured her into resting her head against him and simply basking in his presence. There was the night sky in the touch of his hands. But it came with more than that. It was accompanied by the flash of white teeth in the darkness. The bloodlust. It was a keen reminder that she was surrounded by the suffering of others.
“Walter told me that Alfonzo has fallen.”
Vlad’s voice was a deep rumble. “He has.”
“Did you face him in battle?”
“No. The coward was felled by his own hubris and lust. He thought himself untouchable by sin. Bella was his undoing—not I.”
He sounded a little too amused by the idea for her comfort. “Vlad…you didn’t.”
“She has accepted her nature as a succubus. She has fallen in love with Mordecai and made her choice. She has opened her arms and embraced her fate. I did not have to do much convincing when I asked her to be the trap for his downfall.”
“I have a hard time believing you made a request of her. You mean to say that she did not resist the order she was given.” She glanced up at him and found his lips curled in a slight smirk. “You do not typically ask for anything.”
“That is very fair.”
“And I do not appreciate the insinuation that I am somehow being stubborn in this ordeal by not doing as Bella has done.” She looked back out at the city. “Why did she agree to do it? To destroy the man she once called family?”
“I think she has come to resent the demands placed on