She did. And Vlad had been obviously fascinated with her from the moment he’d seen her, to the point where Ty was seriously starting to consider starting his own war with the man. But… Vlad had treated Ty and his brothers as though they were equals instead of some random lowbloods banging at the door. He had listened. And as it turned out, the man was a formidable strategist.

Ty supposed he was officially a traitor. Funny how it felt like doing the right thing, after all these years.

“So was Lilith really just a power-mad demon queen?” Ty asked. He’d been mulling the accusations flung back and forth, wondering where the truth lay. It didn’t matter to him. Lily was perfect, as far as he was concerned, demon ritual or not. But he did wonder.

“According to popular legend, of course,” Vlad said, settling himself more comfortably.

After two nights of Vlad’s company, Ty could tell when the Dracul was about to lecture on one of his pet subjects. For such a formidable vampire, the man was just a little bit of a geek sometimes. Damien seemed to like him. Damien and his encyclopedic knowledge of bloody everything. For a man who’d been in such a rush to get back to his life of intrigue and assassination, Damien didn’t show any signs of leaving anytime soon, even though Vlad had paid him twice what Nero had owed for the job. His reputation was secure. The Master Shades would be pleased… if he ever went back.

More than once, Ty had had to fight the urge to beat them both with an enormous book and shut them up.

“I never believed it,” Vlad continued. “There was no one left to tell Lilith’s tale but her enemies, or those unsure enough about the truth to stay quiet. That tends to make for a pretty skewed story. Her way of running her dynasty has fascinated me for years, as I told you. The inclusion. There weren’t as many varieties of lowbloods back then, and likely a few that have since died out. But she included them in her court, in her decision-making. The Lilim were not simply their mark. The actual mark was only a piece of the dynasty’s identity, and not a necessary one. ‘No house can stand alone,’ she’s purported to have said in some of the oldest texts I have, not that you’ll hear that anywhere else. The vampires love their caste system. Or at least, the ones who can keep it in place do. But her words resonated with me. The Dracul are not perfect, but I’m trying to push the envelope without having my head cut off for going too far. Small steps.” He grinned. “And now, a new ally. New blood. It’s just what we need, though the other dynasties are going to fight it.”

Ty looked back down at Lily. She didn’t stir, but for those steady breaths. And she was pale, so incredibly pale. He sighed.

“All she wanted was to go home.”

“You and I both know that’s impossible in any case,” Vlad said gently, his smile fading. “She likely won’t wake up at all unless she is turned. She’s not going to open her eyes and tell you to bite her, Ty.”

Ty jerked his head up to stare into Vlad’s grim face. Vlad nodded.

“She’s lost too much blood. Morgan, my doctor, told you, she’s not asleep; she’s in a coma. Being turned is the only way out of this for her, and it’s the only way her vampire half will ever be fully awakened. If the situation were different, I would take her myself, but”—he paused—“she’s already chosen you.”

Ty grimaced. “She walked away from me. And she was probably right to.”

Vlad raised a single pale brow. “If I’m understanding things correctly, she thought she was saving your life. But I’m sure she’ll be happy to beat that into your thick head if you give her a chance.” He gave a thin smile. “I’m afraid that’s all I have in my grab bag of relationship advice.”

“And the fact that I’m a gutterblood Cait Sith? You don’t see a problem with me… tainting her?”

Vlad simply groaned and got to his feet. “Spoken like a true Ptolemy. Look, Ty, I’ll tell you what. I’ll come back in half an hour. If that girl is still at death’s door, I’m throwing you into the street and taking her myself. And if you persist in disparaging your bloodline, I’ll throw in some creative torture just to make you forget all that angst for a while. All right? Good. I’ll be in my study if you need anything.”

Vlad turned on his heel and strode from the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. Ty stared after him for a long moment, trying to decide whether he thought the man was amusing, a prick, or both. He was leaning toward the last.

But the man had made some good points.

Ty turned back to Lily, silent and still, and noted her breaths were shallower. He grabbed her hand. It was like ice. She was leaving him. He could feel it, had tasted the bitter edge of his own death on his way to entering this new life. Panic bloomed in his chest, constricting his breathing.

“Lily,” he said, “stay with me. Please, mo bhilis, stay with me.” He paused, the words so close to pouring out. Finally, he let them, knowing he had nothing left to lose. She was all he had—and all he needed.

“I don’t want to live without you. I love you, Lily. Please stay. I love you.”

He felt it then, the faintest squeeze of her hand. And in her weakened state, for the first time, he could hear what was in her mind.

Ty… love you.

He had his answer after all. Perhaps he had known it from the beginning. Even that very first night, something in him had known she was his.

He slid into bed beside her, stretching out along the length of her. Her warmth, her wonderful warmth, was fading fast. He could feel it ebbing from her. Some of it would never return… but enough would. And she would be with him.

He hoped she would forgive him for this, the dark gift she had never asked for. Her birthright, though it had nearly ruined her life. An eternal kiss from a vampire who would never deserve her.

Ty rose above her, brushing her hair tenderly to one side. Even now, he could smell the lifeblood that flowed ever more sluggishly through her veins, the intoxicating scent that caught him and refused to let go. His fangs lengthened, sharpened. He hadn’t wanted her to see this part of him, lest she think less of him for it. But she had bared her soul to him. She deserved to know all of him as well.

He nuzzled her neck gently, marveling at the silken softness of it. He could smell Arsinöe’s soaps on her, like the ghost of a bad memory. But the natural oils of her skin combined with the spices to make the scent somehow her own, utterly Lily. Then he did what he had longed to do since the first time he’d seen her under the stars: he opened his mouth, sank his teeth into tender flesh, and drank.

The taste of her, wild and sweet, burst into his mouth and rushed through his system, flooding it with the old, undeniable hunger, the drive to drink until there was nothing left. But more, it filled him with Lily’s essence, the taste that was singularly hers among all humanity. She was like nothing, no one, he had ever known. Drinking from her was as close to heaven as his tattered soul had ever come, and he reveled in it, lifting her to him, hands tangling in her hair.

Against his chest, her heart stumbled, paused, stuttered softly.

It was time.

He pulled his teeth from her reluctantly, fighting the instinct to drain her dry. But one look at her banished any lingering urges. She had gone from pale to sheet-white, the two red pricks of his teeth the only color on her skin. Quickly, Ty took a nail, extended it into a claw with little effort, and sliced into the tender flesh of his wrist. As blood welled dark in the cut, he pressed it to Lily’s bloodless lips.

“Drink, sweet,” he urged her, feeling a surge of guilt that he had never felt more alive, while she lay there slipping through the veil of death. All she needed was one swallow, one tiny drop to enter her system. “Drink. Stay with me, Lily. Can you hear me? Be with me forever. I love you.” It was so easy to say now. And she couldn’t hear him.

Or maybe she could. There was a faint, tentative swallow. Then another.

The relief was so great he nearly wept like a child. She would not leave him. Not tonight, not ever, if he had anything to do with it.

He began to feel the pulls at his wrist, stronger now as his blood entered her system and the true change began. The pleasure of the experience surprised him, beginning as a tingling at the site of the cut he’d made and slowly becoming more intense, pulsing with each sip. Her tongue lapped at his skin greedily, and his breathing quickened.

Now is not the time, he told himself. She wasn’t strong enough; she might not even want him that way anymore.

Then she pulled her mouth from his wrist and dragged his lips to hers.

He grunted in surprise, which quickly turned into a moan as she wrapped herself around him.

“Lily… woman… weren’t you just dying? Take it slow, sweet, take it—”

“Don’t want it slow. Want you. Now.”

She was tearing at his clothes, surprising him with her ferocity.

“But, don’t you think—”

“Just shut up and let me take you. Do you know how much I missed you?”

It was difficult to argue with her request. He helped her where he could with the clothes, allowing her to set the pace, stunned by the intensity of her energy. Then she was against him, her skin so incredibly soft, cooler, yes, but the heat they created between them would be more than enough.

Lily rose above him, a pale goddess in the darkness, her hair like fire. And her eyes, he saw, burned like blue stars. As a human, she had been beautiful. As a vampire, he realized, his breath catching in his throat, she was stunning. And she was his.

With his cat’s eyes, he could see her mark, still glittering green, the pentagram, the snake. But encircling them, as though in a protective embrace, were the arms of the cat. He reached up tentatively to touch it, torn between pleasure at the symbol that bound them and regret that he hadn’t been able to give her a mark that meant something in his world.

She watched him and seemed to understand.

“Yours is the same now,” she said, brushing her fingers over his collarbone. Then she grinned, the humor in it thrilling him deep in his soul.