CHRIS

He could hear Dezi muttering curses under her breath and there was the sound of pounding thumps. He wondered what she was doing, but he was smart enough not to say anything. Magnus would hear him and come back to investigate.

Please come, Lianndra, he thought. He didn’t want to die today, he really didn’t. There were so many things he had never done. Things he suddenly realized he badly wanted to do.

When he’d been mortal, he hadn’t really cared about anything. He had just sort of drifted through the days of his life, nothing really touching him. All he had wanted was a dry place to sleep and at least one meal a day. Now there were so many things he wanted to do. He didn’t want to get killed here. He wanted to go home with Dezi and maybe later see the whole entire world.

He wanted to dance all night with Dezi. He wanted to have long conversations with Lianndra that fluttered from one topic to another without ever really touching down on anything. He wanted to sip champagne and wear expensive clothes. He wanted to watch baseball games and waste his Saturday nights. He wanted to live.

For the first time in his life, he really cared whether he lived or died. He cared and there was nothing he could do. He’d been stapled to the floor and couldn’t get away. He couldn’t even fight back. It really sucked.

LIANNDRA

"I can’t believe they would be dumb enough to think they could face Magnus alone. I hope we get there in time," Chelsea said.

He nodded, but said nothing.

It was okay if he badmouthed Chris and Dezi, but it felt uncomfortable when anyone else tried it. They didn’t have as much of a right as he did, so it seemed wrong to him. He didn’t say anything though. There was nothing he could say without sounding like a complete ass.

"There’s the house," he said. "We better hurry before it’s too late."

They swooped like birds and went soaring across the sky, slanting downward towards their destination. He really had to hope that they got there in time. He didn’t know what he would do if they were too late.

DEZI

She could feel the stake holding her left leg to the floor loosening. She kept working at it.

Her right hand throbbed from the pain of her unset fingers. They were going to heal all crooked and she would have to have them broken and reset. It was going to be a complete pain in the ass.

She jerked her left leg again and again until she felt the stake releasing. She gritted her teeth and kept straining her muscles until her leg shot up in the air and the stake clattered loose.

Now all she had to do was figure out how having only one leg loose was going to help her. She sighed and kept working at the other stakes. She would figure something out when the time came.

LIANNDRA

"Welcome to Hell," he murmured, landing soundlessly on the second story balcony.

Chelsea giggled and leaned against the railing so she could watch him work the lock.

He didn’t want to alert Magnus as to their presence, so he carefully kept his powers hidden tight inside.

Instead of blasting the sliding door’s lock with magic or a burst of raw power, he pulled a piece of twisted metal from his sleeve pocket and jammed it into the lock. He jiggled it around until he heard the lock click.

"Ta-da," he said, opening the door. "Sometimes I surprise myself with all of the things I can do."

"Yeah, whatever," Chelsea said, shrugging. Lianndra made a face and she laughed.

"Walk softly through the dark abyss/ know that your soul is mine alone/ swallow all your hopes and dreams/ it’s time you paid for all your crimes," he whispered.

"What’s that all about?" Chelsea asked, giving him a weird look.

He shrugged. "Can’t remember. I heard it somewhere and it just popped into my brain. You know how it is. Read enough poetry and it begins to take over your life. Even if it is bad poetry."

"Huh, you really are a little strange, aren’t you?"

"Come on, let’s just get in there and kick as much ass as possible," he said.

The house was dark and filled with so many shadows and cobwebs that he had to wonder what was living here. The place looked as though it could only be inhabited by ghosts and vampires. Heh.

They crept across the second floor and headed down the stairs as silently as possible. Their bodies were tense, their nerves quivering as they listened closely for any sound.

Lianndra reached one hand backward and grasped hold of Chelsea’s sleeve. They needed to stay close together.

The gifts he had locked away deep inside were thrumming attentively. They wanted to go whipping out and feel everything in the entire world. They had been held prisoner inside of him for so long that they needed to be released. They had been accruing energy, and if he didn’t do something about it soon that energy would go out of control.

He had allowed his gifts to fade out of normal use. He had locked them away so tight inside that he had forgotten their existence. He had ignored them, but they hadn’t ignored him. They had been growing in the years since he had last used them. He could feel his gifts pressing against the back of his eyes. They wanted to be used and he would have to do it soon or they would use themselves and the consequences would fall to him.

There were so many possibilities. He knew suddenly that if he wanted, he could do things, impossible things that would change the whole course of the world.

His power had grown, had been fed on the vampire virus for all of these years until it was a true monster. And if he wasn’t careful, it would go whipping out of him and leave a trail of destruction in its wake.

CHELSEA

She was afraid.

This was the dark castle that her other self had ruled from. This had been the seat of Tispith’s power, and she really didn’t want to be here.

She was sure that Lianndra had exorcised the Black Queen, but there was still a terrible fear in her that Tispith would somehow come back and she would be set aside again. That she would disappear into herself and never taste again the beauty of the world.

Lianndra wandered through the house without any sign of fear. Nothing seemed to touch him. He had been changed in some inexplicable way by what had happened tonight.

She saw him up ahead of her and there was no fear in him. He moved with a fluid grace that made her own vampire muscles ache just to watch. He had become something strange and untouchable. She couldn’t say what he was, but she knew inside that he was something dangerous. Beautiful and dangerous… and sweet and gentle and smart and kind. He was Lianndra de Voight.

Just having him be here, made Chelsea feel better. He just seemed to know what he was doing. He had such a certainty that they were going to succeed against the darkness.

The feel of his hand on her sleeve, tugging her along, was a comfort. He would protect her.

She stumbled a little walking down the stairs, and he caught and steadied her. A feeling of warmth went through Chelsea when he smiled a flash of teeth at her. His hand patted her shoulder before he started walking again. He was just so sure that everything was going to be all right.

Chelsea closed her eyes for a second, steadying her nerves. Everything was going to be all right. She wasn’t alone in the dark anymore.

For years beyond count, she had been alone. There had been the occasional mortal relationship, but they only lasted the length of a mortal life and none of them touched her with the deepness that only another immortal being could accomplish. They just passed out of her life too fast for her to allow herself to love them the way she could an immortal. The way she was already beginning to love Lianndra.

He was just so vitally alive. He was full of a magic that she could only imagine. He glowed from the inside out.

Tispith might have been a vampire lord, but Chelsea knew that she herself was not and probably never would be. She had been formed out of the depths of another mind, built from the leftovers of another consciousness. There were so many things she had never been given in her making. Things she had never missed, but that she could admire when she saw them in Lianndra.

He had a strength that showed through. A strength that she, who had been broken so early, could appreciate when she saw it. That strength drew her. It spoke of safety and protection. It spoke of never having to be alone and afraid again. It spoke of love and hope for the future. That strength called to her and made her realize what she had been missing. That strength was what made a vampire lord a vampire lord. It made the lesser vampires want a safety and security that only the strong could provide.

She knew that she should hate what she had become, but she couldn’t help the yearning that filled her. She had been alone and independent for so long that it had been all she had ever known. Now, offered to her like a promise, was everything she had ever dreamed of having in the cold night: companionship and someone to hold onto when she was afraid. Someone to call on when she was in trouble. Someone to care about.

The house was dark around her, filled with the noises that only age can bring to woodwork. The groaning and moaning of a house at night.

She was afraid, but as long as Lianndra was here with her, she could be brave and do what had to be done.

"How are you going to fight Magnus?" she asked in a whisper. "I’ve seen him. He’s stronger than anyone I’ve ever known. Tispith may have been stronger in one sense, but she was broken and badly set. Magnus won’t have anything in him you can exploit."

Lianndra turned and smiled at her. "Don’t worry so much. I will do whatever has to be done."

"Yeah, sure." She just wished that she could be so certain that everything was going to be all right. She didn’t know what she would do if something happened to Lianndra. She didn’t want to be alone anymore. She had found a connection with another living being. She didn’t know what she would do if that connection was ever broken and she was left adrift with no one to hold onto.

Whatever happened, she vowed that she would be strong and help Lianndra in any way possible. She was not going to be alone anymore. She would do anything she had to, to keep him alive with her.

DEZI

One arm and one leg free. At least she would be able to put up a bit of a fight if she had to. She just hoped that by the time trouble came her way, she had managed to get her other arm free.

Her right hand throbbed with her heartbeat and she could feel the small bones moving and twisting under her skin. It was painful and constant and there was nothing she could do about it.

When, if, she got out of here, she was going to have to call in Frederich and get her hand broken and reset. He was the only one that would be able to straighten all of the shattered small bones and put them back the way they belonged so she didn’t end up crippled forever.

Magnus had always been a bit of a bully and asshole. He enjoyed causing pain and misery. He would go out of his way to hurt someone.

She had never liked him, and lying here she was filled with a certainty that her hatred for him was exactly the right emotion. He was an animal.

He was an animal, but he was strong. So strong that her brain ached from the pressure he was exerting on her, muffling her thoughts.

Dezi jerked her right arm, hoping it would suddenly come loose, but she was held down just as tight as before.

"Are you all right?" Chris asked.

She could hear him thrashing around on the floor, trying to see what she was doing, but he was staked down tight.

"It’s all right," she whispered. "Just stay quiet. Everything’s going to be fine."

"Sure." She couldn’t help smiling at his surly reply. He was just so cute when he was being impatient.

She turned her attention back to her trapped arm and leg.

She had tried using her left hand to unhook her right, but the stake had been pounded in pretty tight and she couldn’t find the leverage to work herself free. At least she wasn’t as helpless as she had been before. There was nothing that made a person so vulnerable as being spread out and completely immobile, like a butterfly in a collection. Able to see things coming at her, but unable to do anything at all to help herself.

She gritted her teeth to keep from howling. Magnus was coming back. She could hear his footsteps approaching.

Quickly, she lay back flat and hoped he wouldn’t notice her free arm and leg. She would need any advantage she could get when dealing with Magnus.

The Dark Stalker was not someone to play with. If she ever got the chance, she would take it and destroy him. Even if it meant that she destroyed herself in the process.

CHRIS

He wondered if he could get so afraid that he would wet himself. He needed even that little bit of a relief from his overwhelming terror.

Somehow he knew that Dezi was afraid, which only made his fear stronger. Anyone she and Lianndra were afraid of was someone he didn’t want to meet. And even in the short time that he had been near Magnus, all he really wanted to do was go home.

For the first time, he really thought about what it meant to be a vampire.

He had a practically invulnerable body and if it were hurt it would heal itself. What that meant was that he could take a lot of torture and would heal himself back up. He could be trapped here in the clutches of that psycho asshole forever.

Tears filled his eyes and spilled down the sides of his face. He didn’t remember much about what had happened with him and Sonny, but he knew he didn’t want it to happen again.

He had thought that he needed to come into this place for Dezi, but really, at this moment, he wished that he were anywhere else. He was so afraid that he could barely even think. His mind just kept coming up with all of these images of what that freak was going to do to him. His body was tense with readiness for the pain he was going to be experiencing.

Chris kept his crying quiet and hoped that Dezi didn’t hear him. He didn’t want her to know how much of a candy ass pussy he was.

He had just been fooling himself to think that he was brave. He wasn’t. He was only seventeen years old and he just wasn’t ready to face anything like this.

I want to go home, he thought, closing his eyes tight. I want to go home.

LIANNDRA

For years he had dreamed of his revenge against Magnus. He had imagined what he would do to the man that had hurt him so badly.

The wounds he had suffered weren’t just physical. They had been an attack against his self-confidence and had left him with doubts for years. Had made him doubt every move he made and his ability to face his enemies because he could lose at any time.

Magnus had been his dream opponent for years. Even after he had heard that the man was dead, he had dreamed about killing him.

Now he knew Magnus was still alive, he had to do something to prove to himself that he was strong and could handle himself. He had to win back his self-respect.

They crept down the stairs and followed the sense of heartbeats to the main drawing room.

"Stay here," he told Chelsea, his voice scarcely louder than a breath.

She nodded and moved to stand to one side of the door. She had learned that it was best not to get in his way when he was heading into danger. He could be a real bear when aroused.

He said a silent prayer and ghosted in through the door, his every sense alert. His eyes surveyed the darkness before him and he was careful of where he put his feet. He couldn’t see much, but he knew that Magnus was somewhere in here, waiting for him. Ready for him.

DEZI

Magnus loomed over her and she felt fear wash through her.

She had lived longer than most mortals could imagine, yet she had never really believed she could ever die. She had always seen the world with herself in it. Death had never been something she had thought to experience. It was something that happened to other people while she watched, laughing at the foolishness of mortality.

"Your boyfriend is crying, you know," Magnus said, gazing down at her.

She stared up at him, glared at him, wishing he were dead. Her eyes were drawn to his scar and she felt her lips skin back from her teeth in a terrible smile. He was not beautiful anymore. He was hideous. He was such a monster that he had been physically disfigured to show the world what he was.

"What are you looking at?" he demanded, his voice suddenly harsh. He wasn’t gloating anymore. He hated for anyone to look at his scar. Hated for anyone to see how ugly he was.

She jerked her chin. "I see you’re up to your usual morgue quality tonight."

"Shut up, you bitch!" he snarled and swung his foot. She was braced for the impact, but a small cry of pain escaped her control. He was wearing heavy duty, steel-toed black boots now. She could almost feel her ribs wanting to crack and bend.

"You like hurting people who are defenseless, don’t you!" Chris suddenly yelled from where he lay.

Oh no, you idiot! Shut up Chris! she thought, but she couldn’t get up the breath to scream it.

She closed her eyes tight and could only listen to the thumps and screams of pain as Magnus punished Chris. There was nothing she could do. At least she had the knowledge that Chris would heal from any wounds inflicted. Though that didn’t mean much when Magnus left the boy and Chris still lay there, whimpering and crying in pain.

"Don’t you two just make the cutest little couple," Magnus crooned. "I’m going to like torturing you together. I’ve always thought that torture was a couple’s game."

"So was that why you were always with Kristen? Or was it the fact that he would do anything to please you," she said mockingly, putting as much innuendo in that one word as she could manage.

Her reward for being a smartass was a boot slammed into her side and the crackling pop of ribs breaking. But at least he wasn’t hurting Chris anymore. She could take the pain. She was strong. She could…

Tears gushed from her eyes and she cried out as he suddenly brought his foot slamming down into the middle of her chest. It felt as though she’d been hit by a runaway freight train. She thought that maybe she was dead and this was Hell.

"Don’t you fucking mess with me, you bitch. I’m not Kristen. I won’t take your crap," Magnus almost-yelled. "I know what you’re little master did to my Bondsman and how he did it too, and if you think I’m that stupid, you’re wrong. Dead wrong." And he began to kick her and kick her and kick her until that was all there was, that hideous impact, the cracking of bones and the pain.

She had always hated Magnus. Had hated him from the very first moment she’d seen him. Now she knew why. Now she knew why.

LIANNDRA

When the sounds of Dezi and Chris in pain reached him from the next room, he knew suddenly that he was too late. The pain had already started.

He began to run.

CHRIS

Somehow he had never imagined that Dezi could be hurt. From the first moment he’d met her, she had been so strong that he couldn’t bear the sounds of her pain. He had to do something.

He jerked on the ropes binding him tight and knew suddenly that he wasn’t strong enough to pull them loose from the ground. Those stakes had been driven in tight and he was lying in such a way that he was never going to get enough leverage to pull them loose.

He bit his lip and thought for a few precious seconds. He was going to have to do something drastic.

Christopher James Devon was the name he was born with. It was the name he used when he signed forms. It was the name he had always imagined inscribed on his tombstone. It was a name that encompassed the entirety of his being and brought his own face to mind.

In all the time he had thought of his name and lived as the person his name said he was, he had never thought to do anything so daring and brave. He had never thought of putting himself in danger, because that was not who Christopher James Devon was.

Christopher James Devon was a follower. He was a pawn in other peoples’ games. He was a soldier in an army, not an officer. He was the sort of person that followed other peoples’ orders, but never risked himself on a daring escapade. Yet here he lay, spread-eagle and staked to a floor, his mind telling him what he had to do, and he was seriously contemplating doing it.

He drew in a deep breath and clenched his teeth so that no sound would escape him. He was going to do something crazy and daring. He was going to do what was necessary to save Dezi.

Without giving himself time for second thoughts, he grasped the ropes where they led from his wrists to the stakes and jerked as hard as he possibly could.

He felt the ropes pull tight and knew he was going to have friction burns, but of a sudden, he didn’t care. All that mattered was getting free and stopping that overgrown asshole from hurting Dezi. She was all that he saw and heard and knew at that moment. She was his everything.

He remembered both Lianndra and Dezi telling him that his body was now nearly invulnerable. He could do impossible things with it, and if he got hurt it would fix itself.

He had been afraid to put it to the test, mostly because he didn’t like the thought of being in pain. But now he was going to do it.

He kept pulling on the ropes, feeling them dig their way into his flesh, feeling them rub at his wrists, but he didn’t stop pulling. His mind was in another place and that burning pain was a distant thing, almost as though it belonged to someone else.

He pulled on those ropes until, suddenly, they burst apart and his arms fell limp and free to the ground.

He had known that one of two things would happen if he used his superhuman strength. Either the ropes would break, or his hands would be sheared off at the wrists. He was glad the ropes had busted when they did.

He lay there for a second, letting his wrists heal enough that he would be able to use his hands. The thumps and faint cries of pain as Magnus kept kicking Dezi were with him, but he pushed them faraway so he wouldn’t make any mistakes in what he was doing. It wasn’t only his life that depended on what he did here.

He sat up quietly and untied the ropes from around his ankles and stood. His wrists were swollen and sore, but that didn’t matter now. He had to save Dezi.

Chris knew he wasn’t strong enough to take on Magnus alone. He was still a new Made vampire, while Magnus had had centuries to become strong.

The boy knew he couldn’t hope to take Magnus on one on one. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t cheat. His time as a vampire hadn’t taught him to be fair. It had taught him to win at all costs, and that was exactly what he planned on doing.

He had been staked down next to a heavy oak coffee table, a truly hideous chunk of furniture. Now he was going to make it better.

"I’m going to tear out your heart, you bitch!" Magnus growled, kneeling down by Dezi and reaching out.

Chris realized he didn’t have any time left.

He kicked the nearest coffee table leg as hard as he could and heard it crack. He kicked it again, then stooped down and wrenched the jagged bit of wood loose.

Only about half a second had passed and Magnus was just beginning to turn toward the sound.

Chris bent his knees and sent himself hurtling across the distance between them, the bit of wood upraised in his two hands. His eyes were locked on that back turned away from him. His lips were pulled back from his teeth and he made a snarling sound that he didn’t even know came from himself.

His chest hit with a painful thud against that back, his knees skidding across the polished wood floor. But he had accomplished what he had set out to do.

Magnus had said he was going to rip out Dezi’s heart, so Chris destroyed his, stabbing that table leg through Magnus’ back and straight through into his heart.

The monster made a gurgling sound and reached up to grasp the point of wood sticking through the front of his chest. Blood poured out of his mouth and his eyes were wide with disbelief.

Chris stood and jerked on the man’s shoulders. Magnus fell slowly, landing on his back and embedding the stake further into his chest. About four inches of wood stuck through, yet he was still alive, scrabbling helplessly at the table leg.

Suddenly a great gout of blood burst out of Magnus’ mouth and he tried to rip the table leg out of his chest. His eyes glared from his head, angry, filled with an impossible madness--an insanity that was almost a physical thing, battering at the senses, accusing.

Chris stared in horrified fascination and was only drawn back to himself by Dezi calling his name urgently. "Chris! Chris! Come on, get me loose," she ordered.

He hurried over to her side and quickly untied her. He blinked back tears when he saw what had been done to her hand and how much trouble she had standing up straight. She had been terribly hurt.

"Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine," she said. Then she walked over to the sadly listing coffee table and grabbed the silver tea tray that had stood there, tossing the tea service off into the shadows.

"You bastard, you hurt me!" she yelled, and began to hit Magnus with the heavy tray.

Chris felt as though he were in a terrible nightmare. He had stabbed a hunk of wood through a man’s chest, and there his sweet Dezi was screaming out curses and bashing the man’s brains in with a tea tray.

It was only when blood and gore began splashing everywhere, some landing on Dezi’s face and hair and more landing on Chris, that he realized that this wasn’t a dream. This was really happening. But that didn’t make it any less surreal and strange and terrible.

He made a sound deep in his throat and grabbed Dezi about the waist, pulling her off Magnus. He had to lift her off her feet to keep her from going back to the body. Had to hold his arms tight around her to keep her from killing the dead man more.

"Stop it, stop it!" he screamed. "He’s dead, dammit. Do you hear me? He’s dead!"

She stopped screaming suddenly and made a choked noise. She turned in his embrace and wrapped her arms around his neck, squeezing him so tight that if he had been a mortal, she would have crushed his bones. He didn’t mind. Her holding him made him feel more real. She kept him from disappearing into himself.

"Am I too late?" an urbane voice asked.

They broke apart and turned to see Lianndra there. He had come upon them with the silence of a cat, but at least he was there.

"Where the hell have you been?" Dezi demanded. "We were getting our asses royally kicked and you weren’t here to save us."

Lianndra smiled and looked pointedly at the body. "It looks to me as though you have already handled the situation."

"Yeah right," Chris said, swiping at a glob of something on his cheek. He didn’t look down at what was on his hand. Didn’t want to see.

Dezi held out her right hand. "I’m going to have to get this thing broken and reset," she said. "It’s going to hurt like a sonuvabitch, but it’s gotta be done if I ever expect to write again."

"Okay," Lianndra said. "But first…" He held his open hands out toward the body of Magnus and said a Word that resounded with power, that echoed to fill the entire room, the house, the world. Chris heard that Word, but it was so powerful he could not hold it in his mind, could not encompass it with his thoughts and being.

Fire burst out of the body. Blue, green and purple flames went roaring up, twining about each other like dancers, eating the flesh off those bones. Burning it until there was nothing but ashes left behind.

"How did you do that?" Chris asked, his eyes wide.

Lianndra had burned the body, but nothing else had been even lightly singed. There weren’t even fire marks left on the floor.

Lianndra shrugged. "Maybe I’ll teach you," he said, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah sure."

LIANNDRA

He had not been given the chance to prove that he was better than Magnus. He had come too late and he would always regret the fact that he had never been able to prove himself.

A part of Lianndra was glad he hadn’t had to face Magnus. It was the part that was certain he would have lost. But the rest of him knew that he had missed a golden opportunity. He would never be able to truly and finally prove to himself that he could have defeated Magnus. That he could have destroyed the Dark Stalker and all of the legends and darkness the man had left in his mind.

He sighed deeply. He would always wonder if he could have beaten Magnus or if he would have lost. He would never know for sure.

"What are we going to do now?" Chris asked, his arm around Dezi to help her along and for his own comfort.

Lianndra smiled. The boy was still so very young. "We’re going to go back to Gregor’s and get ourselves fixed up. Then we’re going to head on home," he said.

"Whoohoo!"

"Geez Chris, way to be an asshole," Dezi quipped, slinging her free arm around Lianndra. Her hand brushed Chelsea’s on Lianndra’s shoulder and they shared a smile.

They rose off into the night sky, four vampires that wore the bodies of children.

LIANNDRA

Late night meeting--many robed and cowled forms entering the darkness of a privately owned warehouse. They moved as shadows across the wall, visions of the power that ruled the secret places between the world that everyone deemed "normal."

"We now convene the Council of the Night to speak on the issue of Lianndra de Voight and his vanquishing of the Black Queen and her companions the Dark Stalker and the Dragon." Luther Montrose had a voice that caught peoples’ attention. It was so beautiful and there was such purpose in it that people couldn’t have ignored it if they wanted to.

Lianndra posed in the center of the shadowed forms. They stood in two rows that encircled him, their eyes gleaming in the darkness.

He knew that he should have been afraid, but all of his fear had been used up. All that was left in him were ashes and a sort of fatalistic attitude that nothing could touch. It made him dangerous.

"I simply did what had to be done," he said, not waiting to be called upon.

They turned to look at him. He felt a shiver travel its way down his spine. All of the robes and feature-hiding cowls might have been a tad overdramatic, but they certainly had an affect. He wasn’t really scared, but there was just something a little chilling about the way they looked. He half-expected to see a skull peeking at him from beneath the edge of a dark hood.

"You were not given permission to speak," a cold voice said.

He turned to the figure that had spoken. It was impossible to tell if it was male or female and the voice didn’t give away any clue as to sex. There was just this cloth-shrouded form and burning eyes.

"Allow him to speak," Luther said. "We all know what the issue is, so let’s cut the crap." He lifted his arm and jerked back his hood.

Lianndra felt his eyes go wide. He had always thought the Council of the Night was run by a bunch of tight-assed jerks. There was something a little deflating about realizing the fact that they thought that about themselves. It’s hard to make fun of someone if they know all your lines and laugh at them too.

"Lianndra." Luther looked at him closely, his eyes ancient in a young face. He was almost twelve thousand years old; he had seen the rise and fall of empires and the shaping of mankind. He was almost too human to be human anymore. "We’ve already decided that though you are young and sometimes a little irresponsible with your actions, we are not going to destroy you."

Lianndra let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, I am…" Luther held up a hand, forestalling him.

"There is more." The man turned to the figure next to him.

Talon Montrose Justice pushed back his own hood. He had a bit of his father in his face, but it was mixed with something else, something that made him beautiful in a different kind of way. His green eyes gleamed cat-like.

"We can’t have you running around loose," Talon said. "You are very popular with the younger vampires and Others, which means your reputation has been growing with the telling. Soon all of the youngsters will think that they can face members of the Council and hope to survive. They will not." He drew in a breath. "That is why we’re naming you Guardian of these domains. Protector and punisher of all those that live within this city of lights and darks."

"What?" Lianndra felt as though he had been kicked hard in the stomach. He had to fight the desire to vomit.

Luther touched his son’s arm. "Though you are young, barely two hundred years, you are powerful. We have decided to use you to keep the youngsters in line. You will control those that live in the city and ensure that they follow the rules that are set. You will watch and judge their actions, ensuring that none of them break our laws, or that if they do, they do not have the opportunity to repeat their offense."

"If you fail in your duties," someone else said, "you will die."

"This is the only chance that you will receive." There was something sad in Talon’s voice and a warning in his eyes.

Lianndra looked around the circle and saw eyes shining at him from beneath hoods. Some eyes seemed to say they expected his failure and would enjoy his destruction; other eyes seemed to give a message of camaraderie and hope that he would succeed.

He straightened his shoulders. "I will accept the position of Guardian for this city. I will not fail."

No one said anything to him. They simply turned and walked away, leaving him alone to his thoughts.

He stood there for a long while, not really seeing anything. His thoughts were confused, but he knew that with his acceptance of the task they had given him, he had accepted the fact that he had better not fail.

There are worse things than complete destruction.