“But why? What do you have against Magnus?”
Maverick shrugs. “Nothing, really. Except he’s got my job.”
“That’s BS. It’s his job. He’s Lucifent’s first sire.”
“Sure, that’s the nonsense he goes around spouting,” Maverick says, squeezing his black fingernailed hands into fists. “But it’s not true. I was Lucifent’s first. But he disowned me back in the nineteenth century because of a minor unpleasantness.”
I can’t even begin to imagine what unpleasantness he’s talking about, or just how minor it really was. But now I do get why Maverick is so out for Magnus.
“So if you’re all hell-bent on revenge, why not just go attack Magnus personally? This blood virus thing is a bit on the overly elaborate side, don’t you think?”
“I had to create something that would weaken all of Magnus’s forces, not just him. If I just killed him, some other annoying leader would step into his place. Like that weepy little moron Jareth or something.”
Jareth. Even the name conjures up a small amount of hope inside of me. If he’d made it out alive he could go get help. Get the army to come and rescue me. I could live to fail at slaying another day.
“This way I will have slowly destroyed all his followers from within, before any of those idiots know what hit them. The Blood Coven will be in code red and I’ll step in to guide them to a better future.”
“And then I’ll slay you,” I say, trying to keep up the brave front.
He shakes his head. “No. You won’t, because you will be dead.”
Before I’m quite sure what’s happening, he’s on me, having crossed the room in a nanosecond, so fast my eyes can’t follow. He’s close, pressing his body against mine, his sour breath making me turn up my nose. (Maybe the movie WAS right about horrid breath being a sign of a vamp.) He pushes my head to the side, exposing my neck, and leans in, his fangs digging into my sensitive skin.
I cry in anguish as the pain shoots like lightning through my veins, burning with unquenchable fire. It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt. I grit my teeth and try desperately to remember Jareth’s bite—the sweetness, the ecstasy—but all I can feel now is the scorching heat, like it’s boiling my blood. I swallow hard, trying with all my might not to cry. I don’t want him to see that he has won. Even though I’m pretty sure he already knows.
At least it doesn’t last long. He wrenches his fangs out of me and I can feel warm blood seeping down my neck. It’s gushing out and my hands are tied, so I can’t put any pressure on it to stop it. For a moment, I wonder if I’ll bleed to death.
Maverick licks his crimson-stained lips. “I’ve always wondered what a slayer tastes like. A lot sweeter than I expected.” He pulls a vial out of his pocket and screws off the eyedropper cap. Squeezing a small amount of the vial’s liquid into the dropper, he walks back over to me.
When I realize what he’s about to do, I try to struggle, make my neck as difficult to reach as possible. But being chained, I don’t have much leeway. He manages to empty the contents of the dropper into my gaping neck wound.
“There,” he says, stepping back. “That wasn’t so hard, now, was it?”
“What did you do?” I ask through gritted teeth.
“Hm, for a slayer you’re not all that bright,” he comments. “You’ve been infected with the virus, of course. In three days, you will die.” He pats me on the shoulder. “And no, there is no magical antidote like you always see in the movies.”
I’m suddenly cold, my heart slamming against my rib cage as reality sinks in. Oh, my god. I’m going to die. In three days, I’ll be dead. I’ll never make it to eighteen. I’ll never graduate from high school. I’ll never see my mother or sister or Spider again. I’ll never see Jareth again.
“But don’t worry, love,” Maverick says. “I’m not going to keep you chained here for your last days. You’ll be free to go.” He motions to the two guards standing at the door’s entrance. “Guards, release her,” he says. “And escort her out.”
Well, that was something, at least. I guess. I could say my good-byes. Hug my mother and sister one more time. I wonder if my dying days would be enough motivation for Dad to come by for a visit. I suppose if it didn’t conflict with Bratty Stepchild #2’s baseball schedule, I might have a chance.
Tears threaten to fall again and I bite down hard on my lower lip to stop it from quivering. I must stay strong. Let him think I’m fearless. Don’t give him the power of seeing me weak.
The guards unlock my arms from their shackles and I gratefully get up from the chair. Maverick is still grinning maniacally at me, so very pleased with himself.
“They will crown me Master of the Coven,” he crows. “When they learn I was the one who took down the slayer.”
I stare at him, suddenly realizing exactly what I have to do. He’s underestimating me. Underestimating who I am. I’m not just any old sniveling girl who will go quietly into the night to lick my wounds. I am the Slayer. The one chosen once in a generation to kill evil vampires.
I have a destiny. And it’s time to fulfill it.
I close my eyes for a moment, searching for the strength I need. Concentrating, as Teifert told me I could. Trying to be Zen and all that.
And then I find it. Something lying dormant, deep inside of me. Almost like a big ball of light, straining against its chains, dying to be released. I squeeze my eyes and channel that light with all that I have inside me and suddenly I explode with energy and power.