With the worst of the storm past and the compound settling down into a peaceful sense of calm at the arrival of night, Chase's thoughts turned homeward too. His own journey wasn't at an end yet; the road ahead of him was murky and uncertain. Once it had all seemed so clear to him, what his future should hold, where he belonged... and with whom.
Now he wasn't sure about anything.
He said his good-byes to the warriors and their mates, then left, heading out of the Order's world, back to his own. The drive back into the city was quiet. The wheels of his borrowed vehicle were spinning, the road falling away behind him, but where was he going, after all?
Could he really call the Darkhaven home anymore? With his senses honed from the short time he'd spent in the company of the warriors, his body weighted down by all the metal he was carrying under his coat--the sundry blades, the Beretta 9mm that had somehow become a comforting presence against his hip--how could he ever expect to integrate back into the staid life he'd once known?
And what of Elise?
He could not go back to that tormented existence of wanting a woman he might never have. He'd have to tell her how he felt about her and let the chips fall where they may. She had to know everything. Chase didn't delude himself with the hope that she might welcome his affection. In fact, he wasn't even sure what to hope for. He only knew that the half-life he was living was over, starting now.
Chase turned onto the Darkhaven's gated drive with a sense of freedom washing through him. Things were about to change for him. While he couldn't guess at how everything might shake down from here, he felt liberated to know that he had reached a turning point in his life. He pulled up the gravel driveway and parked near the Darkhaven residence.
The house was lit up from within, Elise's bedroom and living quarters glowing with soft light. She was awake, probably anxiously waiting for him to return with word from the compound.
Chase killed the engine and opened the door of the vehicle. The instant his boots hit the ground, he got a prickling sense that he was not alone. He pocketed the keys and got out, discreetly unbuttoning his pea coat as he stood. His eyes scanned the night shadows, peering into the darkness for some sign of the enemy he knew was there. His ears were attuned to every subtle noise in his surroundings--the rustle of naked branches as the breeze soughed through them; the muffled drone of the stereo in the house, Elise's favorite soft jazz playing in the background...
And then, running counterpoint to all of that, the raspy wheeze of someone breathing not far from where Chase stood. There was a crunch of gravel behind him. Chase's fingers were already curled around the grip of the 9mm as he slowly pivoted to face the threat.
Camden.
The d?j? vu that hit Chase was like a cannon blast to the gut. But his nephew looked even worse than before, if that was possible. Caked in dried blood and gore, grisly evidence of recent kills that had not slaked his thirst, Camden came away from the hedge that had concealed him and loped closer. His huge fangs dripped saliva as he sized up Chase as his next fix for the Bloodlust that had taken over his body and mind. He had been unreachable when Chase encountered him in Ben Sullivan's apartment. Now he was dangerous and unpredictable, a rabid dog left to go feral too long.
Chase looked at him sadly, full of remorse for the fact that he hadn't been able to find him--hadn't been able to save him--in time to prevent this irrevocable transformation to Rogue.
"I'm so sorry, Cam. This never should have happened to you." Under the fall of his dark wool pea coat, Chase flipped off the Beretta's safety, slid the weapon out of the holster. "If it could be me instead, I swear... "
Behind him now, up at the house, Chase heard the metallic click of the front door opening, then Elise's sudden indrawn gasp. Time slowed at once. Everything spun out, reality descending into the thickness of a sluggish dream, a nightmare that began the instant Elise stepped outside. "Camden!" Her voice seemed oddly distant, slowed like the rest of the moment. "Oh... God... Camden!"
Chase swiveled his head toward her. He shouted for her to stay back, but she was already running, holding her arms wide, her white widow's garb fluttering around her like delicate moth's wings as she flew toward her son. Toward her certain and violent death, if Chase allowed her to get close enough to touch the Rogue vampire that had been her beloved son.
"Elise, stay back!"
But she ignored him. She kept coming, even when her tear-filled eyes focused on Camden's fearsome, hideous appearance. She choked on a sob, but her arms stayed open to him, her feet still moving across the lawn and down to the driveway.
In his peripheral vision, Chase saw the Rogue's savage amber gaze shift attention to Elise. Fixed on her now, the Bloodlusting vampire let out a terrible snarl, lowering into a crouch. Chase pivoted around and put himself squarely between mother and son. He had the pistol drawn and level before he even realized it.
Another second ticked by.
Elise was still coming, faster now, weeping and calling Camden's name.
Chase measured the distance with his gut, knowing that there were only seconds left before this confrontation would end in tragedy. He had no choice. He had to act. He couldn't stand by and risk her life--
The blast of gunfire cracked like thunder in the night.
Elise screamed. "No! Oh, God--nooo!"
Chase stood there, numb, his finger still squeezing the trigger down. The titanium-filled bullet had hit its target squarely in the center of the chest, dropping the Rogue to the ground. Already the sizzle of death had begun, erasing all doubt that there might have been a chance to save Camden from the Bloodlust that possessed him. The Crimson had turned him into the walking dead; now it was ended. Camden's suffering was over.
Elise's--and Chase's too--had only begun.
She raced up to him and beat her fists against him, making contact with his face, his shoulders, his chest, anywhere she could strike him. Her lavender eyes were swamped with tears, her beautiful face pale and stricken, her voice lost to the hitching sobs and wails that poured out of her throat.
Chase took the abuse in silence. What could he do? What was there to say?
He let her vent all of her hatred on him, and only when she finally stopped, pivoting around to collapse on the ground near the body of her son as the titanium quickly reduced his remains to ash, did Chase find the will to move. He stared at her hunched form trembling on the gravel driveway, his ears ringing with the mournful sounds of her grief. Then, in weary silence, he let the gun slip from his loose grasp.
He turned away from her, and from the Darkhaven sanctuary that had long been his home, and walked off into the darkness alone. Dante jolted awake, his eyelids flying open, breath sawing out of him. He'd been trapped by a wall of fire, blinded by the flames and ash. Unable to reach Tess. He sat up, panting, the vision still raw in his mind, scraping at his heart.