Eternal Kiss (Mark of the Vampire #2)

Eternal Kiss (Mark of the Vampire #2) Page 36

Cruen hovered above his chair at the Order, hearing the clock inside his head tick away. Only seconds remained until his dream would be realized. Nicholas Roman would fail and Lucian Roman would be morphed-Lucian Roman would become the next Breeding Male.

The one waiting for him, the one who sat in a cage of her own, guarded by the Beasts, her desires threatening to drive her mad, would need Lucian's quick attention.

And Cruen would see to it.

After all, the Breeding Male program had been his original creation. He had mourned the loss for too many decades now. He would have his resurrection. The Breeding Male and the Breeding Female-he would create a perfect Pureblood race, one he controlled completely, one that might someday rule even the human population. It would be his greatest triumph. He didn't regret the lies he'd told Dare or the few Impures who had been created in the name of progress, nor did he regret the veanas who had been taken from their credentis. Al would be stabilized soon enough.

Five seconds.

Four.

The grin that spread on his face was catlike.

Three.

Two.

CRACK. POP.

Standing before the Order, their eyes blazing with the sheen of war and death and triumph, were the Romans-al three. A white-haired balas was huddled against Lucian Roman's chest, while Alexander and Nicholas held the body of Ethan Dare.

Cruen's hands curled into fists. It wasn't possible. Not possible. Where was Erion?

"I want my mate released," Nicholas ordered as he and Alexander laid the ravaged, blood-drained body on the table.

Shaking with blind rage, Cruen stood up, shook his head.

"Never. Never!" he shouted, his mind unable to contain its rage. He pointed a trembling finger at Lucian. "Lucian Roman wil be morphed. He must!"

Nicholas stared at the ancient paven, who was slowly becoming unglued before his eyes. He wanted to grin, wanted to laugh, but he remained silent and calm before the Order. They would handle the matter; he was sure of it.

"Cruen, please," the white-haired veana hissed, placing her hand on his arm.

"Do not touch me," he growled, yanking his wrist away.

"You are not yourself, brother."

"I am the law!" Cruen screamed. "I am justice, order-I wil do what must be done."

"Stop him," cried the Order member at the end of the table, his hood stil drawn up over his face. "He is going to morph the paven."

Closing his eyes, Cruen raised his arms and began to Closing his eyes, Cruen raised his arms and began to chant.

"He cannot," the white-haired veana said, true concern in her eyes and in her tone. "Not without the power of half the Order."

But Cruen was far gone now, chanting words no one understood but him. Tipping his head back, he cried out, then flashed from the desert reality, leaving only his empty chair and the vibration of his exit reverberating through them al like a mini earthquake.

There was a moment of col ective silence; then the white-haired veana spoke.

"Kate Everborne wil be released and forgiven," she said.

"Lucian Roman wil not be morphed, and the Roman Brothers wil go in peace and freedom."

The paven beside her nodded. "The Order appreciates what you have done."

Several members of the Order nodded.

"We may be harsh dictators," said the veana, "but we keep our word. If we did not, our breed would not trust us to govern." She smiled tightly. "With that said, we fear a bigger enemy is now on the loose. Perhaps Dare was only a smal fragment of a greater problem. The strings . . .

Perhaps Cruen has been the true puppet master."

"Here we go again," muttered Lucian, who was standing behind Nicholas, his hatred for the ten and al they represented palpable.

The veana eyed each brother. "We respectful y reserve the right to cal upon you if there becomes a need."

"You can call," Nicholas said tightly. "We may not answer.

Now, release my mate."

Simultaneously, the Order closed their eyes. After a moment of pure silence, there was a crack, a flash and Kate stood before them. Confusion and fear resonated in her large expressive eyes. She looked at Nicholas, then over at Ladd, then at Nicholas again.

"Nicholas?"

He grinned at her. "You are free."

There was not even a breath of hesitation. She ran at him and threw her arms around his neck.

Nicholas buried his face in her hair. "You are free, my sweetest one," he whispered again. "We both are."