XVI

I don't own Underworld.

"What does this mean?" Mara asked after Salem hung up. The blood pouring from the bite had ebbed to a slow trickle. Cautious hope flared to life in Xavier despite the desperation in his sister's voice. Mara would live! Deep down, he felt relief, but also pride. Of course Mara was strong enough! No virus could topple her.

"We'll just have to move up our plans is all," Xavier murmured. Dad was already bustling about the apartment tossing clothes and weapons haphazardly into a duffle.

"I just got word from Kraven's people. Amelia and the other council members are dead! We must move quickly!" Lucian called. Xavier had his doubts about Kraven.

Xavier's hand tightened around Mara's. It was all happening so fast! A domino effect, the pieces placed so precisely—centuries of preparation—and now Fate had signaled the tiny touch to send them all crashing down. Amelia dead. Singe captured. Viktor awake. Selene hunting, always hunting. At least Raze and his sister and the Corvinus heir were alive. Mom . . . Mom was still, staring off into the mist of memory. Viktor. Her father. Six hundred years of war was at last coming to a head. It would end in the deaths of one or both of them.

"Sonja?" Mara whispered. Mom's head snapped toward Mara and she managed a weak smile.

"I'm all right." She waved off their concern with a fluttering motion.

"Sonja? Could you help me with the AK-47s?" Dad asked and Mom agreed with alacrity, no doubt grateful for the distraction.

"Move up our plans?" Mara repeated, blue eyes wide and guileless. Xavier nodded.

"We'll have to head to the Old World tonight to reinforce Salem and Raze. They can't do this on their own. Kahn, Selene and the Death Dealers will be out in force, you can count on that." He grinned, excitement tingling in his belly.

"You'll have to finish your change on the flight over."

XXX

Visions spiraled through his inner eye, a mishmash of violence and beauty. Central to them were two figures: a man with long brown hair and glittering blue eyes. Another, a woman—a vampire, who looked so much like Selene that his heart beat fast every time she appeared. God, smirched in blood or clean and glorious, she was one of the most beautiful creatures he'd ever seen. A warm voice reached out to him through the disorienting visions.

"You've been given an enzyme to stop the change. It may take some time for the grogginess to wear off."

A needle bit into his arm. He must have cried out, because the big man, the one dressed as a cop that had kidnapped and gagged him, slapped him hard across the face.

"That's enough!" The voice shouted, shooing the other man away.

Michael opened his eyes, the world sliding into focus. The enzyme—whatever it was—muted the fiercer emotions. The brutal surprise that would he would have felt upon seeing the same man he saw in his visions standing before him barely registered. In the visions, he saw the man in rags, with chains. Now, he was dressed in leather and denim, but his face was completely unchanged. Vampire? Or, like him . . . a Lycan?

"I really must apologize. He's in desperate need of a lesson in manners. Speaking of manners, where are mine? I'm Lucian." The man loosened the gag.

"I need to go. I need to get back," Michael slurred.

He wasn't sure what he needed to get back to. The hospital and his life as Dr. Michael Corvin, the American intern? No, that world was lost to him. As if to echo his thoughts, Lucian said, "There's no going back. The vampires will kill you on sight, just for being what you are. One of us. You are one of us."

Michael watched from miles away as Lucian drew a vial of blood from his arm. Good aseptic technique, he noted, and finding a vein on the first try. This Lucian had some medical training.

"Your war has nothing to do with me."

"My war?" a flicker of irritation danced across Lucian's face, "No, Michael. Not my war."

"It's Viktor's," a resonant female voice said from behind Lucian. Michael looked up blearily and saw the woman. Her name surfaced from the seething soup of his visions.

"Sonja," he whispered. She approached, the fluid, graceful dance of her step telling Michael she was every inch the vampire Selene was.

Selene! Where are you? he thought.

Her cool fingers grazed his chest and arms as she loosened the restraints. Michael stared dumbly at the loose leather belts, drooping like limp snakes.

His eyes wandered up Sonja's lean, leather-clad form and fur-lined collar to her eyes, a brilliant hazel that seemed to suck him into a forest at twilight with its paradoxical promise of peace and danger. Her voice was clean and crisp, with the faintest serration of anger.

"Our story is a long and bloody one, Michael Corvin. You've seen the memories. It was forbidden, our union. Viktor feared a blending of the species. Feared it so much he would have killed us both and the child growing beneath my heart. This is his war. And it ends tonight." Michael shivered. He believed her.

"What are you gonna do to Selene?" he asked, casting an imploring glance at Lucian.

"You must understand, Michael, we are here to protect you. Whatever Selene told you, she will not hesitate to put a bullet through your head for being one of us," Lucian said, blue eyes holding his.

No. That wasn't true. If she wanted to kill him, why did she kiss him? Why did she put him in a place where she thought he'd be safe?

The big guy from before appeared, flanked by half a dozen others, all carrying guns.

"We've got company."

Selene!

"I must go deal with Kraven," Lucian murmured. Sonja went to him and Michael watched as the glittering warrior-goddess softened. His heart clenched at the sight of the deep love between them.

"Let me go with you. Someone has to be there to watch your back," she protested. Lucian cupped her face, quieting her with a gentle kiss.

"I need you to stay with Michael. He cannot fall into their hands. Where are the children?"

"Salem is with Raze, and Xavier and Mara are guarding the exit shaft." Lucian kissed her again.

"I won't be long."

Lucian strode out, and Michael watched Sonja pace restlessly around the dingy laboratory. He tried, abortively, to rise or even move his arm, which dangled painfully hyper-extended, but the grogginess persisted. A crackle like popcorn in a microwave sounded somewhere behind him. Blearily, he realized it was gunfire. Sonja froze, a picture of deadly watchfulness.

"Damn. They're headed toward the exit shaft. I have to go." A flick of her hand parted the drape of her leather coat, revealing twin shoulder holsters, armed with gleaming pistols. She checked the barrel on one and shoved it into Michael's hands.

"Here. These are UV bullets. It will only take one to kill them, it doesn't matter where. Aim for the sternum." She braced a hand on his shoulder in a rough, but somehow comforting gesture.

"Steady Michael. I'll be back soon."

XXX

Mara clung to Xavier's arm, disoriented by the vividness of her senses, the unaccustomed strength in her muscles. The sound of gunfire rattled around in her skull with terrifying volume. She was fully Lycan now. Primal instincts warred with her naturally peaceful nature until she was an agitated mess. Xavier grinned at her, hair tied back and stripped to the waist, as he liked to be whenever he knew he had to change. Seeing the sinewy strength of him naked in the murky light was enough to distract her from the fear and uncertainty.

"You're doing great, babe. We can talk you through the change as soon as it settles a bit. I can't wait to see you in your fur."

He leaned in and kissed her. God, it was like kissing him for the first time! How had she never noticed that deep, wild note to his taste, that particular rasp of his beard against her fingers? The instinct morphed into wild desire, yearning for the claiming of her mate. She nipped his lower lip hard as she pulled away and he hummed in delight.

"Mmm. Sexy," he rasped. Mara moved toward him, but he grasped her shoulders gently.

"Much as I'd love to have my way with you, babe, we really should be on alert. It could get pretty hairy here in a min-" Xavier was interrupted by the Lycan called Pierce and half a dozen others.

"We gotta move, Xave!" he shouted over his shoulder as he began to climb. Dimly, Mara heard the faint click above, the cold stench of vampire.

"What was that?" she asked, peering up.

"Grenade! Get down!" Xavier shouted, yanking her against the stone wall and throwing his body over her as the world detonated into pain and light and screaming.

XXX

Soren's neck gave way under the savagery of Raze's jaws and Salem grinned in feral satisfaction. Soren had been the one to whip Father all those centuries ago. Revenge was sweet. Raze rose, thick and powerful in his wolf form. Thin gashes from Soren's whip trickled red here and there on the muscled terrain of his supple black skin. Salem touched them gently and licked the blood from her finger.

"Delicious," she purred, looking up to the crude, wolfish planes of his face.

A rolling growl that was almost a purr emanated from his massive chest. His taloned hand gently touched her cheek, another sweeping down her back. Claws as long as her pointer finger grazed her leather clothing and the sheaths of twin scimitars across her back. Fighting under the naked moon like this, Salem preferred to fight hand to hand.

"I know," she said, "I love you too." That purr turned to a snarl as his senses caught something. Salem swiveled in time to see the murky outline of Viktor himself and a quartet of Death Dealers flanked behind him rounding the corner.

Viktor.

Fear tore her like shards of glass. The monster of her childhood nightmares. The living nightmare of her parents.

They remained unseen through a sheet of opaque plastic, but that wouldn't last long.

"Raze, go. Run!" Salem whispered. Her only thought was that Viktor was going to kill her. He could probably smell hybrid blood. Gallant, loyal Raze would try to protect her and would die himself. A world without Raze was incomprehensible.

"Go!" she hissed, shoving at his chest. Black lips peeled back to reveal his white fangs.

"Damn you," she spat, drawing her swords.

No time left to try and protect each other. A long and bloody fight lay ahead.

With a raw shout, she hurled herself through the curtain, landing directly in their path. Raze leapt through with a howl and easily killed two Death Dealers. Salem dispatched the other two before they even had time to lift their weapons. Their blood swirled vibrantly red through the murky water lapping at Salem's ankles. Raze returned, dripping blood and peppered with a spray of silver bullets in one shoulder.

Viktor was transfixed by the sight of her. She, likewise, wasted precious seconds studying him: her mother's father. Tall and unbending. Yes, she could see that the fruit of her mother's strength and determination found their root in him.

"I'm told I resemble you, Grandfather," Salem said coolly.

She knew he saw it in her as easily as she in him. It was in the blade-like cheekbones, the blond hair and vivid blue eyes. Viktor saw it too, a spasm passed over his face as he realized the implications of her existence. Salem was vaguely surprised his head didn't explode at the sheer heresy of it.

"Kraven will pay for his treachery," he growled, head tilted back in an expression of hauteur, eyes narrowed to slits. With a jolt, Salem recognized the expression as one of her own. She mimicked him, deriving a vicious sense of satisfaction when she saw him flinch.

"I daresay he will. Sniveling cowards always find their comeuppance." A thin smile touched his lips. For one second, she saw a gleam of approval in Viktor's eyes, a primitive kinship. A fist clenched around her heart. It was a mistake making him smile. It would make it that much harder to kill him.

"Forgive my manners, Grandfather. I am Salem. And I'm sure you remember Raze," Salem said, waving her hand in introduction. Raze unleashed a vicious roar in reply. The name denoting kinship and warmth seemed to unnerve him. His long, white hands clenched into fists.

"I would have torn you out of your mother's belly and fed you in bloody chunks to William's spawn." A quick, curt gesture drew a broadsword.

"I know. But my mother and father were smart and strong enough to outwit you. I shall take great pleasure in cutting off your head for their sake. And mine," Salem tightened her grip on her weapons, rich red blood filling the air with its perfume, crimson drops dissipating in the water at her feet.

Raze broke the taut spell by lunging for Viktor's throat. Raze swiped at Viktor, slashing him across the chest.

He bleeds, Salem thought, seeing the thin trails of blood weeping from the four thin lines. Then Viktor seized Raze by the throat and Salem screamed as she heard the sick snap as Viktor crushed his trachea.

All else was lost in rage and blood as she lunged.

XXX

Sonja uttered a string of curse words as the dead bodies of the First Death Dealer Kahn and his lackey hit the ground. A handful of seconds too late. The bastards had already detonated a grenade. Her nerves sang as she felt Salem in danger. The world was bursting at the seams. She had to hurry!

"Xavier? Mara?" she shouted, jumping down the exit shaft. She landed in a puddle and observed the carnage of shattered bodies and rubble. Even a small charge would decimate a group in such close quarters. The smell of charred flesh and spilled blood wafted to her nose like incense. Pierce, Taylor, Nico, Russ . . . damn! She'd known and trusted each of them! No time to mourn the dead. The sight of her dead comrades filled her with a sick sense of dread. Sonja kicked aside a chuck of concrete, sifting through the carnage for her son and his wife.

"Xavier! Mara! Answer me, goddamn it!" fear made her voice shrill. She seized hunk of mangled rebar and hurled it aside. She waited in the dripping silence.

"Sonja! Over here!" Mara's voice was weak, but alive. Sonja waded over to the source and pried the space behind a pillar wider. Mara, smirched with soot and blood, looked up at her with wide, terrified eyes.

"Help him!" she screamed. Xavier lay limp across her lap. Burns and gashes marred his naked back.

"He was protecting me," Mara whimpered, tears cutting tracks in the filth. Sonja cocked her head, listening intently to the thud of his heart, strong and steady, the clean, clear flow of his breathing.

"Of course he was, sweetheart. Now look here, he's already healing." Sonja pointed, tracing the raised weal of a burn that was already fading. His hazel eyes popped open and looked quizzically between Sonja's face and his wife's.

"I must be in heaven to be surrounded by such beautiful angels," he said, his teeth white against the soot covering his face. Mara exhaled a sobbing breath, showering him with kisses. Sonja sighed and kissed her son's hair.

"Just like your father. You'd joke on your deathbed."

"Um, Immortal, Mom. I won't have a deathbed. And neither will Dad."

Sonja's answering laugh was cut off by dread, horror, pain.

In the centuries of their union, only once before had she felt anything similar. That hideous stretching of what connected them, about to snap—

And fear. Her soul went mad with fear for its mate.

"Lucian!" When he nearly drowned, she had felt struggle, the need for air. Now she saw his hand clenched to the hole in his chest, the veins in his hand bulging in rhythmic pulses. And Kraven's oily voice saying, "Silver nitrate. Bet you weren't expecting that."

Shot.

Betrayed.

Kraven!

Xavier called to her from miles away. It didn't matter now! Nothing mattered! Didn't he see?

Lucian was dying!

Kraven would die with him. Before she met the true death, she would spend her last hours drawing every second of her love's pain out on his murderer!

She didn't remember running, but in the next instant, she found her love limp against as wall, his veins stained black. She had seen Death too many times not to recognize the sweep of his brush. The sight stole her breath, her will, her powers of speech. His name emerged in a hoarse whisper: "Lucian!"

Sonja touched his face. His blue eyes opened—eloquent with pain and soft with love. He tried to speak, but her name emerged in a weak thread of sound. She placed a finger over his lips, stilling anymore painful effort of speech.

Three holes marred his chest, weeping silver fluid. By the Elders . . . silver nitrate. Liquid silver. Tears squeezed out of the corners of her eyes at the thought of the pain he now endured. Oh my love . . .

Her tender caress was torn to shreds by her fear and she grasped his shoulders, shook him hard enough to make his teeth rattle.

"Push it out, love. Try!" she urged, her voice raw. Sonja threaded her fingers with his as if to offer her strength. Lucian managed a weak jiggle of his head.

'No use,' He mouthed.

"Dad!" Xavier cried from behind her, Mara echoing him with a gasp of horror. Lucian's eyes rolled to them and a beatific smile graced his features. In it, she saw all of his love and pride and regret. Saying goodbye.

A shiver ran through Sonja, a wild clawing thing, inarticulate and powerful. Sanity was slipping away. Slipping away with the slowing beat of Lucian's heart. When it stopped, the world would cease to have meaning. Six centuries together. It wasn't enough! A thousand centuries wouldn't be enough! Call it greed, call it selfishness, but she needed him!

No! Every cell in her screamed in denial. Please. Not now. Please! Not now, when victory and peace were so close! She didn't know who or what she beseeched, but all that mattered was that Lucian lived!

Urged on by some formless impulse, Sonja gathered Lucian's tall, lean form in her arms. His mouth opened in a soundless cry of pain, blood reddened teeth bared and his breath misting as the silver stole his warmth. As much in reflex as comfort, she kissed his dry lips, tasting death. A ragged cry left her lips, and the ground flew beneath her feet.

She wouldn't let him go without a fight.

XXX

Mara stared dumbly at the spot where Sonja had once stood, the faint smear of blood where Lucian had lain. Both were gone. Lucian, pumped full of some evil liquid, Sonja wild with desperation. She had never seen her like that. Sonja wore the face of a stranger, hollowed out by the looming shadow of Death. Xavier tightened his arms around her and Mara was passionately grateful for his comfort, his living heat. A sob rose in his throat and her heart broke for him. He couldn't contemplate loosing them.

Then, Xavier stiffened.

"Let's go," Xavier whispered in her ear. Steely strength emanated from him. He was the son of Lucian and Sonja. He wouldn't snivel.

"Why? What's happening?" she said. This Underworld was dark and terrifying. Broken bodies and ungodly noises echoed through the underground fortress.

"Salem," was his soft reply.

Xavier wove his fingers with hers and led her along, outstripping even the swiftest sprinter. Mara, delighting in her new powers, relished the speed. They met only two Death Dealers on their way. Xavier snapped their necks with ease and Mara tried not to wince at the sight of him killing with such ease. He had been doing it for a very long time.

Together, they rounded a corner and found a woman, presumably Salem, hunched over the biggest man Mara had ever seen.

"Salem?" Xavier's voice was filled with worry. Mara stood by, awkwardly.

Salem was as astonishingly beautiful as her mother, even with blood smeared on her skin from healed wounds. Her blond hair hung in wet, snaking coils, vivid blue eyes wild. Mara glanced down at the man, heat staining her cheeks at his nakedness. Tall and thick with muscle; his blue-tinged eyes were open and fixed on Salem as his breaths emerged hoarse and hesitant.

"What happened?" Xavier demanded, "Are you all right, man?" He grasped the black man's hand. Raze, she remembered. His name was Raze.

"Fine," Raze wheezed, his voice impossibly deep.

"It was Viktor," Salem rasped, stroking Raze's brow with tender fingers, barely sparing her brother or Mara a glance. Salem loved him. That was obvious. A jolt of fear raced through Mara at the mention of his name. The monster.

"He was here. I . . . taunted him with who I was. Raze defended me and the fucking bastard almost ripped his throat out! So I attacked him. I got a couple good hits in," she said without conceit, "He pushed me under and would have drowned my ass." There was a second's pause, ripe with the recrimination of not coming to her defense.

"I'm so sorry Salem. It's Dad. Kraven pumped him full of silver nitrate. Mom's gone mental."

"Fuck," Salem muttered, "I'll kill him." By the savage light in her eyes, Mara could see she meant it. Raze heaved himself up to a seated position.

"We have to move," he said. Mara watched, fascinated, as the muscular column of his throat shivered and expanded with a hideous cracking sound. Just like that, the flesh and cartilage of his trachea was healed.

"Where did Viktor go?" Mara asked. Three pairs of eyes swiveled to her. One tenderly familiar, one curious, and one shrewdly speculative.

"So you're the famous Mara. I'm glad to see you've finally put my brother out of his misery," Salem's voice dropped to a slow drawl, her eyes slowly moving over Mara. Unsure of how to respond, Mara settled on a small smile.

"Since Mara's grasped the point, I can say I don't know," Salem addressed her brother, "When I came to, he was gone. And Raze and I were—inexplicably—still alive."

"We have to get to Michael," Xavier said. The four of them rose.

"Raze, Salem, you'd best take your fur. We need to be ready."

"What about you, Xave? You should change too." Xavier cut a nervous glance at Mara. She recognized his embarrassment and stifled the urge to laugh.

"I chose you, idiot," she chided, kissing the tip of his nose, "that means the fanged hybrid part of you too. Now change!" Salem's snapping blue eyes regarded Mara, then she laughed and punched Xavier's shoulder.

"I like her. She doesn't take any of your shit."

Xavier and Raze shared a quiet chuckle and Mara recognized a desperate edge to their mirth. With Lucian and Sonja removed from the equation, this night's coup was now in jeopardy. Did they feel like kids, scared witless by the idea of surviving without their parents? Mara had, when Mom died.

"Let's just get on with it," Xavier muttered. They nodded and Mara watched, fascinated as muscle, bone and skin rippled and bulged to accommodate the dictates of their will. Their lines were thicker, fiercer, feral and devastatingly powerful.

The newly awakened Lycan part of herself felt a visceral kinship at the sight of them. She belonged here. She looked up, through the layers of concrete and steel and earth, as if she felt the moon's gentle touch on her skin, sinking into her bones, urging her to change as they did. It was as natural as breathing, to change. Easy. There was pain, a strange jolt of warmth, and her body began to change, rending her clothing into pieces. The scared human was gone! She was as powerful as they! Lucian's essence ran through her veins! A wild joy flooded her veins as she bounded after her mate.

XXX

The stink of gunsmoke permeated the air, curling like foul incense around Selene. Lycan blood added to the pungent reek of this dripping, seething den, but she ignored it. Calmly, with the grace of long practice, she discarded the empty clips and tamped new ones in, all in a matter of seconds. A trio of Kahn's Death Dealers ranged behind her.

Whatever Sonja was planning with her Lycan lover—fucking Lucian, the mutt that had started all this!—would end tonight at Viktor's hand. Michael would be safe. She'd see he was protected somehow, freed and forced into hiding. She had to get him out before Viktor saw him.

Through the fetor, a faint tang of Michael's scent wafted to her nose. She breathed deeper, assuring herself of the proper direction. Then she was off, leaving the bumbling idiots to seek the true death for themselves. She jogged easily down a hall, following the notes of salt and musk and blood that made up Michael's scent. She would recognize it anywhere.

A vampiric bloodhound, she thought, and imagined the slight, sweet smile he would give her.

A rolling snarl caught her attention and with the honed instincts of a thousand lifetimes, she swiveled and shot, the bursts from her automatic pistols emerging in crisp bursts. The Lycan scaling the wall fell in a bloody heap. Another emerged from the woodwork, moving in the grotesquely graceful lope that ate unimaginable distance. Selene burst forward, thanking the stars for her superior speed. Her pistols spat another burst of ammo, killing it. A third Lycan leapt directly in front of her and Selene jumped, shooting the beast down as she spun over its head. She had to hurry. She was running out of clips.

Another furry bastard was nearing where Michael's scent was the strongest. Was this Sonja's lover or spawn she was killing? The thought floated through the data crunched in her mind. A second's hesitation before old instincts and hatred bore out. She fired, killing the beast, and not sparing Michael a glance, braced a foot on the monster and put three more silver bullets in its skull.

She was Selene, a Death Dealer. Viktor's Death Dealer. Her loyalty was unshakable. Sonja's sneaking words wouldn't make her waver. Michael, rather than strapped to a Lycan torturer's table, was standing whole, radiating warmth. Selene tried not to notice the flicker of emotion in her heart at the sight of him. He was also armed. Selene squinted at the sleek pistol pointed awkwardly at the floor, the butt gleaming faintly with the UV florescence.

"Where'd you get that?" A bemused smile danced across Michael's pointed features as he held the gun gingerly.

"I know what started the war," he said. Selene shook her head, the fringe of her dark hair swaying.

"There's no time for that now. We have to go."

She grasped his arm and dragged him behind her. The battle was eddying around them in whirls of violence, with spatters of gunfire and savage roars. Together, they wiggled around them, unseen. Michael leapt for the exit door, throwing it open to find Kraven.

The world slowed.

She saw his gaze roam from Michael, reeking of Lycan, to her, hunched protectively behind him. Kraven's face twisted in jealousy, eyes livid blue. The gun lifted and he shot. Michael crumpled to the ground, writhing in pain as the silver nitrate seethed through his veins like acid. Selene sank next to him, a quivering, jagged emotion rending her soul to pieces.

Nononononono! Not Michael! Inane, barking words reached her ears. She ignored them. All that mattered was that Michael lived. Kraven's hand closed around her arm. She jerked free of his hard grasp.

"I hope I live long enough to see Viktor choke the life from you!" she shouted.

"I'll bet you do. Let me tell you something about your beloved dark father. He's the one who killed your family, not the Lycans. Never could follow his own rules." Selene shook her head, denial crisp and easy. No. It couldn't be true. No. Not Viktor. Kraven continued.

"It was he who crept room to room, dispatching everyone close to your heart."

A fragment of a centuries-old memory rose in her mind's eye. Viktor, tall and strong and kind, stroking her hair. Another face rose like a ghost: Sonja and her nagging, cryptic words. Lies. Betrayal.

Lies? Betrayal?

A feral pleasure lit Kraven's eyes, a dark joy in causing pain. His coarse voice rasped her ears like sandpaper.

"But when he got to you, he just couldn't bear the thought of draining you dry. You, who reminded him so much of his precious Sonja, the daughter he condemned to death."

Sonja.

I want you alive to see the truth.

I know what really happened to your family.

Breath left Selene's lungs. The shivering core of herself, hidden beneath her steely strength and hard-won determination recognized the truth staring her in the face. Viktor. The one who she had worshipped and adored for centuries. Blind. How could she have been so blind?

As Selene looked on, a slender black form leapt, tackling Kraven. He uttered a groan as brutal punches rained down, then lay limp as he wisely subsided into unconsciousness. The form atop Kraven shivered and shrank into the naked form of a young woman with a spill of golden hair. Viktor's blue eyes stared back at her. By the Elders, she was Sonja's daughter. Viktor's granddaughter.

Seeing her was the final blow to the altar she had built for Viktor in her heart. It all came crashing down in shards of hurt and anger and pain.

"What are you waiting for? Bite him!" the girl shouted. Selene looked down at Michael. Such beautiful blue eyes . . . gently, she bent and pressed her lips to his throat. The sweet savor of his blood filled her mouth as her fangs pierced his skin.

XXX

With three hybrids, including the newly turned Michael, Viktor did stand a chance. Xavier and Salem hung back, watching the Corvinus heir dance with the vampire Elder, feeling an absurd sense of pride at his accomplishments. So young and new in his powers, yet he kept pace with an experienced warrior. Michael threw Viktor into a wall. Xavier grinned. What he lacked in skill, he made up for in brute strength. As he fell in a crumple of fine leather, Xavier melted into his human form, letting Viktor see his father's face with his mother's eyes. His expression was priceless. Shock, horror, hate, and an unwilling fascination. All before Michael tackled him.

The battle would soon be over. Michael would end it for them. And Selene too, once she worked the last dregs of misplaced loyalty from her system. Xavier, who had been fighting this war for centuries too long, was relieved. Let them take up the fight that had been theirs for so long. He was too damn tired to go on any more. They had lost too much, too many comrades and friends.

"Kill the fucker, Corvin," Salem muttered, blue eyes watching the fight avidly. Mara and Raze were safe, guarding Kraven's unconscious body. Regardless of his own feelings, or Salem's, the kill belonged to Mom.

Speaking of which . . .

"We need to find Mom," he said. Dad was still holding on: they would have felt it if he'd died. His sister met his eye, and as always, they were in perfect accord.

"Where do you think she's gone?" Xavier smiled wanly.

"Hell if I know."

XXX

Sonja was dreadfully conscious of his hiccupping breaths, his once-strong hands fluttering and clutching weakly at her leather coat, the trickle of blood down her front. Wind whistled in her ears, the ground flew under her feet. Humans bustled about their busy, ignorant lives as the sky softened toward dawn. Sonja sped past them, headed for the stink of brine and towering metal structures of the dock. As old as she was, the sun would burn her to a crisp within seconds. This was a passing, transient thought as she ran. That didn't matter.

He did.

She leaned forward, pressing her forehead against Lucian's.

"You don't get to die on me, love. I won't let you!" she whispered, kissing his cheek, nipping his ear.

Corvinus' human guards barely had time to swivel their weapons in her direction. One made the mistake of stepping into her path. Sonja kicked him square in the body-armored chest, landing with perfect balance on the ball of the other foot, watching him crumple against a stack of broken boxes. The iron doors of the Sancta Helena met the same fate as Sonja found what she sought. Alexander Covinus was speaking in low voices with some of his human agents, when Sonja burst in. She gently laid Lucian on his desk, watched his blackened blood ruin the maps spread there.

"Save him!" she demanded. When those enigmatic eyes only stared, she drew her pistol and aimed for his heart.

"Save him," she repeated. It was Viktor's voice, cold, clipped and utterly merciless.

"That will be all gentlemen," Corvinus said coolly, dismissing the humans, "you may leave us." As they filed out, Corvinus shed his coat and rolled up the snowy linen of his sleeves.

"What happened to him?" his crisp voice held a healer's authority and the mad desperation within Sonja slackened just a bit.

"Silver nitrate. Kraven shot him. He can't . . . he can't push it out."

The words emerged in sharp bursts, eeking out from around the fist contracted around her heart. If Lucian died, that fist would crush her heart into pulp. Lucian was panting, short, tight bursts of breath, blue eyes locked with hers. Stars, she could taste his agony! Sonja holstered her pistol and grasped his hand, wishing with all her might it was her on that table, not Lucian.

Not her beloved Lucian.

Her hands shook as she helped Corvinus peel away the layers of coat and shirt. A small sound escaped Sonja at the sight of the major vessels of his chest so clear, as if filled in with ink under his tawny skin. Viscous silver fluid seeped from the three gunshots in his chest. The weak keening turned to a moan and she bent and kissed the marks.

"Lucian . . . Lucian," she chanted. His hand fluttered as if to touch her hair, but he lacked the strength. Jagged anger and fear tore at her.

"Do something!" she shouted at Corvinus.

"Lift his head," he commanded, his quiet dignity absurdly comforting. Sonja buried her fingers in the rich fall of his hair, damp with clammy sweat, cradling the precious weight of his skull. Alexander Corvinus sliced his wrist and said with the tenderness of a parent to a child, "Drink."

Sonja watched, like magic, as the ugly black began to fade from Lucian. His heartbeat was stronger, his hands steadier. Passionate gratitude filled every corner of her heart, a wild joy exploding. He would live! Lucian would live!

"What's happening?" she asked, rapt and reverent before the Eldest of the Immortals. The healing sluiced through Lucian's lean body, the blackened vessels shivering and ebbing into glowing health.

"I am the first Immortal. My blood is unsullied by either the Vampire or Werewolf strains of the virus." The bullet holes closed.

"Think of me as the Immortal blood type O, the universal donor. Lucian's Lycan blood will accept mine. It will also augment his strength." The last discoloration faded from his body and Lucian lay replete, nearly glowing with health.

"Thank you," Lucian murmured, swinging his long legs over the side of the desk. Stars, the sight of him whole and healthy, color diffusing his lean cheeks, his strong arms reaching for her . . . how she treasured this man!

"Lucian!" Sonja cried, throwing herself at him.

They tangled together in a wild kiss of seeking and finding, a life-assuring clinch which neither wanted to break away from. The faint tang of Corvinus' blood lingered in Lucian's mouth and the flavor defied description.

It tasted like sunlight.

When at last they broke free for Lucian to breathe, a radiant smile broke on Sonja's features. Corvinus stood, nonchalantly watching his wrist heal.

"It was a good thing you brought him to me when you did. Any later and he would have been too far gone. I trust none of my human associates suffered the same treatment as my ship." Dry humor laced his tone and Sonja laughed, exultant. She seized him in a fierce embrace. It was worth the look of dumb surprise on his face.

"Thank you! Thank you so much! But, ah . . . one of them might be a little banged up. Surely nothing more than a bad bruise, with the body armor."

"Thank you for your assistance, Sir." Lucian said, offering his hand. Corvinus offered a knife-thin smile.

"Thank you, Lucian. My agents inform me that your forces performed splendidly. My descendant Michael Corvin was successfully changed hybrid, and Selene struck the killing blow against Viktor."

"Viktor is dead?" Sonja asked softly. Corvinus captured her gaze and a fierce empathy warmed those cold blue orbs.

"Yes, my dear. Along with his entire force of Death Dealers, the vampire Council, the Elder Amelia . . . and Markus. Your boy Xavier was responsible for that. There was a bit of confusion when Viktor killed the Lycan Singe. Some blood apparently trickled into Markus' sarcophagus. During the sweep through the complex, your Xavier was the one to kill the last vampire Elder." She and Lucian shared a glance.

It was finished. Resolved without them. She squeezed his hand, seeing the pride, relief and faint strains of regret at not being able to defend their children pass between their locked gazes. In one blood-soaked night, the entire world had changed. Six hundred years she and Lucian had planned and painstakingly prepared for this battle and in the end, they weren't even a part of it!

"I am sorry for your loss, Sir," Sonja said quietly. Markus, the oldest vampire. Apparently, his word had been false. His offspring would not die with him, as Viktor had feared.

"Thank you, my dear." Corvinus cupped Sonja's cheek, the callused pad of his fingertips grazing her skin. The intimacy of the gesture lacked all awkwardness. It was a moment of genuine camaraderie and shared, unspoken grief.

A thought occurred to her.

"What of Kraven?" bloodlust rose up, hot and deep and hungry. She would make him pay and pay for what he'd done! Corvinus frowned, and moved to peer at a report on the desk.

"He's apparently alive and in your children's custody." A dark smile touched Sonja's lips.

"He's mine."

"Sonja, my love, is that wise? What more can he do to us? Viktor is dead. The children are safe. Is there really a need for more bloodshed?" Sonja looked at her husband as if she had never seen him before.

"He tried to kill you, Lucian. He would have succeeded, had Corvinus not saved you."

"I realize that," Lucian's voice was calm and measured. Argh, she hated that tone! That almost condescending, let's-calm-Sonja-down-before-she-hurts-someone tone. Lucian reached for her, grasping the back of her neck and holding her in place. His beloved face was so warm and earnest, she almost forgave him.

"The war is over, love. There is no need to kill him. He is nothing." The croon of his voice nearly undid her. Then she remembered the fear, the terrible sight of his destroyed body on the ground. He felt her tension and dropped a kiss on her lips. She relaxed into the tender persuasion of his lips, so blessedly alive. She was just so tired. So tired of the world trying to separate them. That fear of losing him would never die.

"I'm not asking you to forgive him. I'm just asking you to leave him alive. We can exile him, imprison him, whatever you wish." Sonja exhaled a heavy sigh. He was so much better than her. Purer. Stronger. More generous.

"I'm not promising anything," she grumbled. Rightly taking this grudging assent, Lucian rewarded her with another kiss and the blessed enfolding of his arms around her. After a moment, Corvinus broke in.

"I have a gift for you, Sonja," Corvinus murmured. Sonja lifted a brow.

"And what is that, Sir?" The eldest Immortal poised the knife over his wrist and offered her his blood.

Alexander Corvinus' blood was heady stuff. She and Lucian were a little drunk on it. That combined with end of the war and their ability to at last walk together without the constant threat of death or exposure resulted in them positively giggling like lovestruck teenagers. When they contacted Xavier and Salem to relay the news that they were all right, they reached new heights of joy.

Soon, a battered SUV squealed onto the dock, and they all piled out, Xavier, Salem, Mara, Raze and the half a dozen close friends that had survived. Sonja watched as the entire pack of them converged, so beautiful and shining and happy in the sunlight. Lucian's eyes were only for her, cool and sweet like pools of water. He offered his hand and Sonja gratefully threaded their fingers, feeling alive and whole. The line of shadow was clearly marked, and the sunlit yard beckoned. She glanced uncertainly behind her at Corvinus. At her age, it would only take seconds to burn . . .

Lucian smiled.

And Sonja felt the sun on her face for the very first time and knew true happiness.

xxxxxx

A/N: And so we come to the end. Whew. I hope everyone liked reading this as much as I liked writing it! Love all the comments and reviews!

Thanks!