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.”

My tongue dried up a little, stuck on a word. “Did you just call me . . . Lili?”

“Yes,” he said, holding the same loving smile I’d seen in the glass mural on my ceiling. “That is your name or, at least . . . was.”

“I. . .” Gravity sunk my shoulders. “I don’t really understand.”

“My little sister, bless her heart, gave up her soul to see Anandene reborn. We needed a pure womb to grow the child—one not marred or tainted by any man before. But Lili had had several children by this time, so we created a curse or, rather, a spell that would see her bear only females—soulless females, since our contract, and my Anandene, was bound to Lili’s soul. When the child was born, Lilith’s soul was placed into the vessel and, sixteen years later, bred with noble blood to give rise to Anandene.”

“Okay, whoa, hang on. So, you had to wait sixteen years?”

“Powerful spells take time.”

“But, what happened? If you had Anandene back then. . .”

“Well, we were ignorant. We thought that a man of noble title would suffice. But gods do not care for the importance man places on himself. The child needed to be of true noble blood. So, another soulless child was born in place of what was supposed to be Anandene, and we moved Lilith’s soul to the new vessel.”

“And then what happened?”

“In the sixteen more years we had to wait, a close friend of mine devised a cleansing ritual—to see a male born of such pure and noble blood that none other would compare.”

“What kind of. . .” I swallowed, “ritual?”

“I was sent to trace bloodlines back to the days of Christ—find one that had been noble of title and ordainment as far back as possible. Safia would give a potion to the wife of this man, and his bloodline would, from that day forth, bare only sons that would bear only sons, and so on and so on, until two sons were born to one mother. One, the purest and noblest child man had ever known, and the other—”

“All the bad things in one little boy.” I nodded, sitting back in my chair, my eyes glazed and lost on the day. “So this noble knight, it was—”

“Arthur’s bloodline. But, since he never fathered a child, I was forced to use his brother’s descendants.”

“And that’s why you let him watch over them all these years?”

“No. I let him protect and keep them safe because it was a promise he made to his dying brother. However, that fact did work to my advantage.”

“Does . . . does Arthur know?”

“I’ve suspected for some time. But I’m not sure he knows the full story. He knows enough to draw conclusions—enough to have told David’s mother she would bring an evil child into the world, but—”

“So Arthur started that story?”

“Yes, and I know he feels great regret for that.”

“Why?”

“Because, when Thomas Knight learned of it, he cast the demon child out, treated him poorly, as if the boy would bring Hell rising to the earth.”

“Won’t he?”

“No.” Drake laughed. “He’s not evil. Just impure—everything undesirable filtered out of mankind. Seven deadly sins, you might say: greed, lust, all that stuff. But even creatures such as this are given the gift of free will. And I believe Jason has chosen the path of light and good, has he not?”

I smiled, thinking about him. “Yes. He has.”

“And you’re proud of him?” he asked, but it was more of a statement.

“I am.”

“Then, let me ask you something.” He waited until I looked at him. “How would you feel to know that your actions cost him his life?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, if you, say . . . chose to steal my child away, I couldn't vouch for the safety and freedom of your people, Amara. How would it feel to know that, just to keep this child from coming to me, you’d sacrificed all those lives—including your beloved Jason?”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Merely outlining the options.” He picked up the dagger again and slipped it into its leather strap. “You cannot save yourself, but you can secure the freedom and eternal safety of your people—friends and family included.”

“What do you mean by I cannot save myself?”

“Oh, you didn’t catch on?” he asked, scooping up Anandene’s emerald. “You’re the re-manifestation of my sister’s soul—inserted into one baby after another until the Knight twins were born. God knows, we had no way of knowing it would take centuries, but all’s well that ends well.”

“I don’t see what that has to do with my death.”

“The contract, my dear. When the child is born, I am bound by my word to resurrect Lilith. Her body will be pieced back together, and her soul—”

“Will leave my body.” I went numb right through, sitting back so slowly I almost couldn't feel the back of the chair. “I’ll die?”

“Yes. But you have. . .” he considered my belly, “—seven months to get your affairs in order. No pun intended.” He laughed.

I looked up at him. “But that isn’t fair.”

He stopped laughing. “Do not get me started on fair, my dear. How fair is that every time I’ve come close to achieving my goal, something or someone has gotten in my way? I had to wait centuries for the Pure Knight to be born, not knowing when he would come, and on that day, the Lilithian descendant was missing. You would have conceived her on your wedding night had my Warriors not been so good at their job. You would never have even been born had my father not kidnapped the original child.” He slammed his fist on the table. “I searched for you for over thirty years, only for my Warriors to find the infant, Amara, and bring her to be killed. And I thought it would be over. David bonded with her, chose to leave her alive, and he goddamn well lost her before I could get her back.”

“Ha!” I sat back, smiling at nothing. “Sucked in.”

“The next time I found her,” he continued as if I hadn’t spoken, “she was being born to a sixteen year old Rose! Do not talk to me about unfair, because I have had more than my fair amount of unfair.”

“So that’s why you made Arthur turn the boys—”

“Turn David, yes. I cared not what he did with the other one. But I needed David immortal in case I found the bloodline of my sister a century later.”