Chapter 40 Blackwater's Interest
Thaddeus's POV
I watch my own death with detached curiosity.
The Ancients tear me apart—claws through flesh, teeth through bone. Pain explodes through every nerve ending as they feed, draining centuries of accumulated power along with my blood.
This is it. After twelve hundred years, this is how I die.
Killed by the very monsters I unleashed. Poetic, in a way.
My vision fades. My heart stops beating. The Ancients drop my corpse and move on to easier prey.
And I die.
For exactly forty-three seconds.
Then something impossible happens.
My heart starts beating again.
The wounds begin to close. Bones knit back together. Flesh regenerates.
I gasp, sucking in air I shouldn't need. My eyes fly open.
The Ancients are gone, chasing other victims. Around me, the battle rages—Kaelen's forces pushing back what's left of my army, Council members fleeing, humans screaming.
Nobody notices me. They think I'm dead.
Perfect.
I drag myself behind a pile of rubble and check the damage. My body is healing, but slowly. Too slowly. The Ancients drained most of my power.
But not all of it.
Because three years ago, when I killed Elena Thorne, I didn't just eliminate a threat. I took her blood. Preserved it. Used it in a ritual that made me immune to death itself.
Moonblood doesn't just make humans compatible with vampires. In the right hands, it grants immortality without weakness.
I'm unkillable now. The Ancients proved it.
I smile through the pain. Everyone thinks I'm dead. They'll stop hunting me. Stop watching for me.
Which means I can disappear. Regroup. Plan my next move.
Because this isn't over. Not by a long shot.
I watch Lyra across the courtyard, helping Vivienne stand. The girl who ruined everything. The moonblood carrier who survived a marking that should have killed her.
She's more powerful than her mother ever was. If I can capture her, study her blood, I can perfect the ritual. Become truly immortal. Invincible.
But I can't act now. Not when she's surrounded by allies.
I need to wait. Be patient.
I've survived twelve hundred years by being patient.
I can wait a little longer.
Slowly, carefully, I crawl away from the battlefield. Nobody stops me. Nobody even looks.
By the time the sun rises, I'm miles away, hidden in one of my secret properties. The battle is over. Kaelen has won. The Council will likely repeal the law forbidding vampire-human bonds.
Everything I worked for, destroyed.
But I'm not defeated. Just delayed.
I pull out a backup communication device and send a coded message to my remaining loyalists—vampires who believe in vampire supremacy, who understand that humans are inferior and must be kept in their place.
"Phase One failed. Initiating Phase Two. Stand by for instructions."
Responses come quickly. I still have followers. Dozens of them, hidden throughout the city in positions of power.
Good.
I begin planning. Lyra Thorne has allies now, but allies can be eliminated. Kaelen Nightshade has an army, but armies can be infiltrated. The Council has changed the law, but laws can be changed back.
All I need is one opportunity. One moment when Lyra is vulnerable.
And then I'll strike.
My phone buzzes. A message from an unknown number.
"I know you're alive. Meet me at the old cathedral in one hour. Come alone. We have much to discuss."
I stare at the message. Who could know I survived? Everyone saw me die.
Unless...
I arrive at the cathedral exactly one hour later. The building is abandoned, crumbling, perfect for secret meetings.
A figure waits in the shadows.
When she steps into the moonlight, my ancient heart skips a beat.
Seraphine.
"Hello, Thaddeus," she purrs. "Surprised to see me?"
"You died four hundred years ago. Kaelen watched you turn to dust—"
"Kaelen watched an illusion turn to dust." Her smile is sharp. "I've been very much alive, watching from the shadows, building my own army."
She moves closer, and I realize she's different from the vampire I remember. Stronger. More powerful.
"What do you want?" I ask carefully.
"The same thing you want. To destroy Lyra Thorne and restore vampire supremacy." She circles me like a predator. "But you can't do it alone. You're wounded, hunted, presumed dead. You need allies."
"And you're offering?"
"A partnership. You have political knowledge, centuries of experience manipulating the Council. I have power—ancient power that even Kaelen can't match." She extends her hand. "Together, we can finish what you started."
I study her. Seraphine was always ambitious, always hungry for more. But this is something else. Something darker.
"What happened to you?" I ask. "Four hundred years ago, you were just another vampire noble. Now you're—"
"Something better." Her red eyes glow. "I found a ritual. One that required sacrifice, pain, and the breaking of a bond with someone who truly loved me. Kaelen's love was the key. His agony when I 'died' gave me power beyond anything you can imagine."
She snaps her fingers, and the air around her distorts. Reality itself seems to bend.
"I'm beyond death now, Thaddeus. Beyond age. Beyond weakness." She lowers her hand. "And I'm offering to share that power with you. All I ask in return is your help destroying Kaelen and claiming Lyra's moonblood for myself."
I should refuse. Seraphine is clearly insane, twisted by whatever dark magic she's embraced.
But I'm also desperate. Wounded. Alone.
And she's offering me everything I want.
"What's your plan?" I ask.
"Simple." Her smile widens. "Christmas Day, when the bond completes, Lyra will become a hybrid—the first in eight centuries. That transformation will create a surge of power massive enough to feel across the entire city."
"And?"
"And that's when we strike. While she's vulnerable, transforming, unable to defend herself." Seraphine's eyes gleam with malice. "We'll take her. Drain her. Use her moonblood to complete a ritual that will make us both immortal gods."
"Kaelen will protect her."
"Let him try." She laughs. "I know his every weakness, every fear. I created most of them. When the time comes, he'll be too broken to fight."
I consider this. It's risky. Insane, even.
But it might work.
"I'm in," I say. "Partners."
We shake hands, and dark magic seals the agreement. I feel it—ancient power flowing between us, binding us to this alliance.
"Excellent." Seraphine releases my hand. "Christmas is two days away. We have much to prepare."
"What about your army? The vampires you said you've been gathering?"
"Waiting. Hidden. Ready to strike on my command." She starts walking toward the cathedral exit. "When Christmas comes, Thaddeus, we'll paint this city red. And from the ashes, we'll build a new vampire empire. One where humans know their place—on their knees, bleeding."
I follow her into the night, already planning my next moves.
Lyra Thorne thinks she's won. Thinks she's safe with Kaelen and his allies.
But she has no idea what's coming.
On Christmas Day, when she's at her most vulnerable, we'll take everything from her.
Her power. Her life. Her precious vampire prince.
And this time, there will be no miraculous rescue.
This time, we win.
As we disappear into the shadows, I hear Seraphine humming. A wedding march.
"What's that for?" I ask.
She glances back, her smile terrifying in its sweetness.
"I'm planning a wedding," she says. "On Christmas Day. Between Kaelen and his marked human. It'll be beautiful—right up until the moment I murder them both at the altar."
Her laughter echoes through the empty streets.
And somewhere across the city, in whatever safe house Kaelen has hidden them, I imagine Lyra sleeping peacefully. Thinking she's safe. Thinking love conquered all.
She has no idea that her happily ever after is about to become her funeral.
Two days.
Just two more days.
And then we strike.