Blood Match

Chapter 46: Cradled in Darkness

Liam floated in darkness. There was no up or down—just the quiet blackness of the absence of light. But there was no fear. No panic. Just a sense of peace—as if he were cradled in the womb, waiting for the moment of birth.

Out of the darkness came a song sung by two voices—one the deep velvet of night, the other the pure ringing rose of the dawn. The words Liam had heard in his dream returned, woven into the melody of the song.

Then the darkness exploded into the moment when Night and Day existed in perfect balance—the moment when night kissed the dawn in love.

Liam knew in that moment he was in the presence of the Divine—power that had walked the ways of the cosmos and had trod across the stars.

He couldn’t name them, but he knew them.

Then, out of the meeting of dark and light, came twin voices speaking as one:

We see you, child of dawn. Do you know us?

Liam paused, not sure what to respond. Then the words bubbled up into his consciousness.

How can one know the deep darkness of night—the coming of the shadows? How can one know the brightness of the sun, rising to meet the night in solemn embrace as the turning of time hands one reign to another?

The answer came from his center. The words rang true from the very depth of who he was. With confidence, conviction, and strength—and yet with humility, and with recognition of what awaited his answer.

He felt the moment when, out of the void, the goddesses turned their gaze upon him—seeing him, knowing him, weighing him.

In this place between the moments, he would have been holding his breath—if he had a body. But here, he was nothing but pure consciousness.

Then it came, like the stillness of descending night or the quiet breaking of the dawn.

Do you love him?

The question echoed in the void, but in that timeless moment—if time existed—the answer seemed instantaneous.

Yes, with all I am.

Will you choose him? The words rolled through the darkness like thunder.

From this day to my last day, I will always be choosing him.

Then return. Time is short—make the choice. The response came, ringing melodiously, pealing like a bell.

Liam opened his eyes. For a moment, he couldn’t see anything. He felt hard stone beneath him and dampness seeping through his clothes. He realized he wasn’t even tied up. He waited, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness around him.

Immediately, his thoughts turned to Leo. He felt a pulse—a connection—like the beat of his own heart. Slowly, painstakingly, he followed that feeling through the darkness until he found it: a hand, then a torso—Leo.

He ran his hands over Leo’s body, checking for the dart—but it had been removed. He sighed in relief.

Liam closed his eyes to the darkness, taking a deep, centering breath. Then he slowly opened them again.

The darkness burst into a myriad of colors. His hands and arms glowed softly—rose-gold light that pulsed like a heartbeat.

As he looked down at Leo, he saw midnight blue and silver threads, pulsing faintly around him.

Instinctively, Liam knew something was wrong. The power that flowed around Leo seemed to be fading.

He remembered what the voices had said: Time is short, make the choice.

He became incandescent with rage, every inch of him focused on Leo. His blood screamed out for vengeance, and a part of himself he had never known before settled into place.

In that moment, the soft rose-gold light emanating from him burst forth like the sun at dawn.

He spoke with conviction:

“I choose you. I will always choose you. Even if the whole world stood against us, I would cheerfully burn it to the ground for you. You are my Heart, my Soul, my Home—and nothing and no one will ever take you from me.”

Then he leaned forward and whispered in Leo’s ear:

“So hear my words, Leonidas De La Cruz: come back to me, because we’ve got some serious ass whippings to hand out!”

Marlowe stood between Gideon and Harrison, each of them glaring at the other. They were at an impasse.

Gideon was ecstatic that the dart had worked so well. He wanted to move quickly—his plan was simple and brutal: kill Leo, then flee. Harrison’s VHA contacts would be left behind to take the fall.

Of course, Harrison would come with them back to Australia, where they’d ride out the firestorm that would come.

The world would erupt into war. The VHA would be held accountable by every ancient vampire clan connected to the Sanguinis bloodline.

With luck, Gideon and Marlowe would survive to pick up the pieces.

Marlowe was frozen in shock at the recklessness of Gideon’s plan. She had already been unsettled by the appearance of Hecate on the Longest Night.

Unlike her unobservant brother, Marlowe had recognized the goddess immediately. It had taken all her self-control not to drop to her knees and press her forehead to the floor.

Hecate’s words still haunted her: choices, she had said, followed by the warning that the Weird only speaks once.

Marlowe had always backed her brother. She knew he had a talent for wading through blood—cruelty and slaughter were fine arts for him. But even she had to admit that this plan had too much risk. Killing Leo and then running might actually bring the fire to their doorstep.

No matter who got the blame, their absence would make them appear guilty.

Harrison’s plan was no less risky, but it wouldn’t start a firestorm—at least not if they played their cards right. She thought about the details of what Harrison was proposing.

Harrison wanted to kill Liam—but not before he had abused and tortured him. If Liam truly was Leo’s blood match, eliminating him would prevent Leo from ever ascending to the pinnacle of Divina power.

Harrison’s desire to possess Liam was a desperate attempt to regain some of his lost masculinity. Gideon had taken much from him, and in his own twisted way, Harrison wanted to make someone suffer for his humiliation.

Gabriel had been a disappointment. His loyalty to their enemies had been unexpected; stepping in front of Liam and taking the first dart had almost thrown the plan into chaos.

Luckily, they’d been ready with a second dart before Leo could react. Gabriel had been disposed of—his body hidden for later, when they’d need to stage the scene and throw suspicion on some unsuspecting scapegoat.

Marlowe knew she had to decide. Everything could come crashing down at any moment in this house of proverbial cards they had built.

They were so close to attaining their goals, but one miscalculation—and everything would slip through their fingers like spilled blood.

She had to decide quickly—goddesses be damned. Whatever happened, her fate was her own, and nothing would take that from her.

So she tossed a coin in her mind—and made her decision.

They would go with Harrison’s plan.

She hoped Gideon would forgive her for not backing him, but it was for the best. In the end, he would thank her—even if she broke his toy.

She allowed herself a moment of victory before she turned to Harrison to let him know what the plan would be.

Hecate had said: The Weird speaks only once.

Marlowe had decided—to hell with the Weird. She would give her answer in action.

“Harrison, we’re going with your plan. There isn’t much time. Leo is incapacitated, but his Sanguinis blood will be fighting the poisons. Whatever you’re going to do to Liam, don’t linger too long—or you might not make it out alive.”

She handed Harrison the key to the rusted iron door nestled in the bedrock of the deserted part of the manor grounds.

Let the heavens rage. She would paint the sky in blood as she stepped into her destiny.