“And which one is that?” I asked spitefully, still sitting to attention.
“My sister Lilith gave her soul to see Anandene reborn, and I have waited many centuries for all the pieces to finally come together. You carry inside you the blood of my sister, mixed with oldest, most pure blood of nobles known to mankind, but she will bare the soul of my long-dead wife.”
“No.” I looked around as if there was something I could say or do to weaken the meaning in his words. “She can’t. I won’t let that happe—”
“It already has. The moment she was conceived, you broke the curse you carried to bear only females, and you opened a portal for Anandene’s soul to cross over—carried along the path all souls travel when a new child is conceived.”
“So that’s just it? She’s already Anandene? You don’t need to do a ritual or—”
“No.” He laughed. “There are many ways to reinsert a soul, but this is the only way that ensures permanent success. If I simply reinserted her into a body that shared the blood of her lineage, she could not have been immortal. She would still be a witch, but would not live forever. And it is that desire that got her killed in the first place.”
“How so?”
“She attempted a spell, using the Stone—”
“And Lilith had to kill her to undo the curse she invoked?” I nodded when Drake did. “So, you what? You devised this plan over centuries just so you could have forever together?”
He smiled simply. “You’re in love, are you not?”
“Yeah, but—”
“What lengths would you go to?”
I leaned back, exhaling. “And this is why the contract promises you the baby?”
“It promises the baby will be born, yes, and in exchange I will give back what I took. But it does not promise me possession of the child. She will come for me when her memories return.”
“Memories?”
“One day, everything she was in her past life will come back to her, and she will look for me.”
We both sat silently for a second. I pictured my daughter all grown up: long, dark hair, blue eyes—just like mine, just like Drake’s—seeking him out and then . . . marrying him. “That is so gross, Drake! You’re her uncle.”
“Separated by generations of genetic interference.”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s disgusting, and you are so not ever getting anywhere near her.”
He closed his eyes slowly, breathing out long through his nose. “My dear, sweet niece. I did not come here to argue or negotiate. You are bound by law to have this child, and she will one day know me. There is nothing you can do to stop this.”
“I can take her away, far away, so she’ll—”
“If you do that, you will be signing your own death warrant.”
I stopped mid-sentence and frowned at him. “How so?”
With an impatient groan, he drew something from his belt and laid it on the table beside the shimmering emerald.
“What is that?” It looked just like the Dagger of Yahanna.
“It’s the dagger you’ve all been driving yourselves crazy over these last few months.”
“But that’s—”
He knocked my hand away as I reached to grab it. “In the weapons room. I know. Well, at least . . . it was.”
“How did you get that?”
“Well, without the astonishing talents of Jason Knight, it would still be in Arthur’s possession.” He winked at me. “You two practically gift-wrapped it for me.”
I silently cursed my own so-called brilliant plan.
“I have not been brave enough to attempt stealing it right from under Arthur’s nose, and I must say, I too believed he had, in fact, forged an imitation,” he said, sitting back, slowly drawing his hand away from the dagger and just leaving it right there on the table in front of me, with nothing to stop me jamming it through his heart. “Go ahead,” he offered. “Pick it up. Jam it through my heart. It won’t kill me.”
“Why not?” I said through my teeth.
“Because I fabricated a purpose for this dagger in the hopes that some vengeful vampire, one day, would return it to me.”
“Or try to kill you with it.”
“Precisely. At which point I’d take it from them.”
“Not if they got it in your heart first.”
“Did you miss the part where I said I made up that entire story? Parchment and all.”
“What do you mean?”
“The very notion that this dagger severs the connection of an immortal soul from this realm of life is ludicrous. It does nothing of the sort.”
“Why would you make up a story like that?”
“Because the dagger had been stolen by a woman I trusted. I needed it back, and the best way to acquire something valuable is by hand-delivery. Unfortunately, I sent Arthur to find it, knowing it was here somewhere, but—” he sighed, looking down wistfully at the table, “—it seems even my oldest and most trusted friend fell victim to the appeal of my death.”
“So. . .” I aimed my thumb at the dagger, its shimmering jewels looking suddenly dull as all hope faded from its blade. “It won’t kill you?”
“Not even when steered by the hand of a king.” He laughed. “But it is very important to me.”
“How so?”
He picked it up, considering the handle. “Inside this hilt is a very vital piece of a puzzle—one that is key to finalising the terms of the contract with my sister. Once you give birth and the child is safe, I will uphold my end of the agreement.”
“Which is?”
“To resurrect Lilith.”
“What?” I sat forward excitedly. “You can bring her back?”
He nodded once, laying the dagger down again.
“And the dagger is the key?”
“It is.”
“Wow. So, that’s what you agreed to restore in the contract: Lilith?”
“It is.”
I sat back in my chair, shaking my head at the dagger. “So much trouble was caused over that damn thing.”
He laughed. “Yes, I heard you even went as far as to give yourself to the king’s brother.”
I made a weird, awkward kind of face. “Yeah, I kinda did.”
“Ha-ha-ha!” He patted my hand. “Oh, Lili, not much about you has changed after all these centuries.”