“Wh-? Wha-?” Devon stammers, staring at his sire in disbelief. He rubs his eyes as Constantine resists the urge to do the same.
“Aefre?” he ventures, not daring to believe it is true. Is she alive? He registers her call for her dead husband but pushes it aside. She was dreaming. That’s all.
“The sword was keeping her in a state of suspended animation,” Dracul says. “It didn’t go straight through her heart, so the Faerie-Vampire side of her has kept her alive as she was only wounded.”
“Wounded?” Constantine nearly shrieks. “She was dead. There was no heartbeat, no... nothing.” He checked. He checked and then he checked again.
She was dead.
Dracul just shrugs and snaps his fingers under Aefre’s nose. Her eyes go to him and then to everyone around the room. Constantine follows her gaze as the silence is deafening. Devon, Lincoln, Vito, Frederick, Marguerite, Carlotta. Her eyes pinch at that intrusion. It makes his heart start to beat again.
She is back.
“Aefre? Are you cognizant?” Dracul asks her.
“Uh, yeah. Yes,” she says, licking her lips. She clutches at her chest, a pained look on her face. “I died. I was murdered.”
“No, you are back,” Constantine says to her, his happiness bubbling over, as he scoots closer to her again.
“No,” she says, pushing him away. “I died! I am dead. It’s gone.”
“No,” Constantine says, shaking his head in confusion. Has she come back muddled? She doesn’t seem to know what has happened to her.
“Sadly, yes,” Dracul says and sits his massive frame on the bed. It sinks under his weight. Aefre looks at him in sorrow and flings herself into his arms. “Your Dragon has been killed, Aefre. ValamAtrux no longer exists. It is only that you are more than a Dragon that you survived this attempt on your life. I am sorry, Sister. You are no longer a Dragon.”
“What?” Constantine blurts out. “What are you talking about?”
“The sword kills Dragons. And while the sword only pierced her heart it was enough…”
“To kill me,” Aefre finishes flatly.
“No, Aefre. No! You are alive, my sweet. You are here, with me,” Constantine says to her frantically.
She ignores him and stands up. She lifts her top up over her shoulders and turns her back. “Is it gone?”
It. That says it all. She knows.
“Yes,” Dracul says, pulling her top back down. “The Dragon is gone.”
Aefre nods and sits heavily on the bed. “I feel the loss. I feel vul…” She stops speaking and casts a glance at Carlotta. She purses her lips but doesn’t continue.
Constantine is about to order her to get out so that Aefre will speak freely. There is something not right here. She is not happy about being alive.
“The armory,” she whispers. “It’s gone.”
“Aefre, please. This isn’t the time to concern yourself with such trivialities,” he says. He doesn’t get why this would be the thing upsetting her.
“G.I. is lost to me,” she says, looking down almost as if she is ashamed to admit it.
“It’s okay, you don’t need it,” Constantine croons to her.
She flinches and hunches her shoulders even more.
He peers at her curiously.
She wants it.
The sword that can kill them all, him included. She wants it.