Dark Needs at Night's Edge

38

An instant before it sliced through Conrad, Tarut's sword—and the meaty arm that wielded it—dropped to the ground.

The hit happened so fast, what was left of Tarut's arm flew past Conrad's face, spraying blood.

Cadeon had struck Tarut from behind, lunging from the smoke demon's tracing to strike just in time.

At once, Conrad grappled against the two who held him, frenzied to get to Néomi. The clash of steel rang out over the pouring rain and howling wind as Cadeon's men engaged the Kapsliga.

Conrad's mortal Bride was in the midst of an immortal battle—

When Tarut twisted around to face Cadeon, dagger in his other hand, Conrad bellowed, "No! Tarut's holding her!"

But Cadeon had already given a jabbing thrust.

Tarut had used Néomi to shield him.

Time slowed; Conrad couldn't see her, but he could scent her flowing blood... . He could see Cadeon's shocked reaction as he drew back his sword.

The demon had run it through her.

"No!" Conrad roared, struggling frantically. "Néomi!"

When Cadeon raised his sword again, Tarut finally dropped Néomi to block the strike. Too late.

Just after Conrad spied Tarut's head thudding to the ground, he caught sight of her... collapsing into the mud... limp, eyes open and dazed, pooling blood from her mouth and stomach.

With a roar, he snatched out one Kapsliga's throat with his clenching fingertips. He caught the other one by the roof of the mouth to wrench his head back and off his neck. The other Kapsligas fled at the sight.

Freed, Conrad lurched for her, sinking to his knees beside her. "Néomi!" He clasped her body up into his arms. "You stay with me!"

She could tell the old madness was on the verge of reclaiming him. He was adjusting her sodden robe in jerky motions—as if to keep her covered and warm in the rain.

Néomi didn't want to look down. Strangely, there was no pain—only numbness. But the demon's expression had told her everything. The wound was a mortal one.

Cadeon turned to approach them. As he made his way, she dimly heard the others... .

"Cade did what?" Rydstrom yelled. "What the fuck did you say, Rök?"

"He's gutted the vampire's Bride," Rök said. "The leech is worthless to us now—you can't torture them any worse than this."

"I didn't see her," Cadeon told Conrad. "I never saw her."

She felt pity for him—after all, he'd saved Conrad's life. If only he hadn't taken her own.

Even Néomi shivered at Conrad's expression. With his eyes blazing red with malice, he said, "A thousand times over, demon. Anything you love will die." Then he traced her inside their room.

As he cradled her head, he mumbled his thoughts aloud. "Hospital. Where? A human hospital... " His eyes darted wildly. His face was beaten by the Kapsliga, his jaw swollen and lip busted. "You stay with me," he pleaded down to her in a tormented voice. "J-just hold on for me! Need to think... "

She wanted so badly to stroke him to comfort him, but her arms hung useless. I know this feeling. So cold.

Dying. Just as Nïx had predicted. On the day I told Conrad the secret, but not as they'd expected. Fate could be so cruel.

"Need to find a hospital... "

She shook her head as much as she could. She wouldn't make it to the hospital—it was too late for her. But she had to explain, so he didn't think this was his fault. "Conrad... was dying anyway."

"Don't talk!" His voice was raw.

Sounds were dimming. Blood left her body so swiftly, like it had just been awaiting the chance. "I called a witch... she came through... the studio mirror." Sight going blurry. "Made me alive... but only for a short time. Knew this... couldn't tell you."

"Your death was the deal with the devil?" He was quaking beside her. "And you got just two goddamned weeks?"

"Worth it!" She weakly coughed. "Love you."

At that, blood tracked from his eyes like tears... . But then his body suddenly grew still. "What witch, koeri?"

"Mariketa."

Clutching her to his chest, he traced them into the studio. "Just stay alive, Néomi!"

After easing her to the cot by the mirror, he found a blanket and pressed it to her wound. "My brave girl," he rasped, "you stay with me." Then he faced the glass. "Witch!" he roared. "Come to me!"

As he continued to yell for Mari, Néomi fought to remain conscious, wanting to tell him that Mari couldn't help, that he was getting his hopes up only to have them crushed. But with each attempt, she coughed up more blood.

"Mariketa!" He punched the mirror in a frenzy, battering his hand. "Come to me!"

When there was no response, he sank to his knees beside Néomi. "Ah, God, come to us!"