“Between the Bosphorus and Gibraltar, she would control the entire Mediterranean,” Terry said. “Everything except the Suez.”
Jean laughed bitterly. “Oh, she has plans for that too. Why do you think Rens is dead?”
“Why?”
“Why not? She likes power. Laskaris wants to take control of Athens from his brothers and sisters, and she wants to help him. Elixir was their opportunity. If she can screw her sire in the process, all the better.”
“All this”—Gemma stepped forward, nudging Murphy to the side—“because we bested you in business?”
“You cheated me out of billions, Gemma!”
“It’s money,” she said. “We’re immortal. We can always make more money. We lose fortunes and find them in the space of a single human lifetime. Money is a game, Jean. But I treated you as an ally. A friend. I welcomed you into my home. I celebrated with your children.” Gemma bared her teeth and yelled, “What have you done, you fool?”
Gemma drew a dagger from her pocket and stabbed him in the heart. “That is for poisoning Anne.”
She turned and walked back to Terry, who enfolded her in a hard embrace.
“Tell me more about Zara,” Murphy said. “Who else is she working with?”
Jean shook his head, and Murphy reached up, tearing off another finger.
“What do you want?” the Frenchman screamed. “I don’t know, damn you! There’s someone in Germany, but I don’t know who. She supplied the Russians in California. She has plans for North Africa. She hates Oleg and thinks she has some way of toppling him.”
“And what does she plan to do with Russia?” Leonor asked from the corner.
“Nothing!” Jean let out a sobbing laugh. “Don’t you understand? Zara loves chaos. She would topple Russia, sit back, watch Oleg’s lieutenants fight for it, and laugh.”
Terry said, “And this is who you align yourself with?”
“I thought I was dealing with Athens.”
“But you weren’t?”
“They told me…” He grew quiet until Murphy reached up and ripped off another finger. “They told me they had fixed it,” he screamed. “They told me it was safe.”
“But even after it became obvious it wasn’t,” Murphy hissed, “you still kept shipping it.”
“She would have killed me if I stopped.”
Murphy bent down and looked into the dead man’s eyes. “Who is in charge? Is it Laskaris and the Athenians? Or is it this Zara?”
“I don’t know anymore.” Jean’s head rolled to the side. “Please, Gemma,” he begged her, “will you speak for my children?”
“Jean,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t—”
“How many years did I shelter Rene?” he asked. “When your man threw him out of England, I welcomed him. Me. I am a friend to your brothers. I do not ask for myself. I ask you to intervene for my children. They had no part in this.”
Gemma glanced at Murphy.
“Jean, I… I’ll see what I can do.”
He smiled through bloody lips. “Merci, ma chérie.”
The vampire begging for his children undid Murphy, and the taste of blood grew sour in his mouth.
She wouldn’t want this.
Anne would have been disgusted by this. Murphy’s rage seeped out with his enemy’s blood, falling to the stone floor and trickling toward the river.
“I will find everything,” he said, stepping close to Jean. “And if any of your children are involved, I will kill them myself.”
“She’s making it in Bulgaria. Laskaris knows; he doesn’t care. He thinks they can control the spread of Elixir. He thinks that this will subdue humanity. The humans will exist to serve us or die painful deaths.”
“Dear God,” Gemma breathed out.
“Exactly,” Jean said. “Laskaris thinks he is a god. And like any god, he wants to rule.”
“And Zara?” Murphy asked.
“She controls him? He controls her? I thought I knew, but I don’t know anything anymore.” He met Murphy’s eyes. “Kill me. Take revenge for your people and your mate. I would do the same. But kill me before the priest comes. Tell him… je suis désolé.”
Murphy stared into the eyes of Jean Desmarais and realized the vampire was already dead.
And he had someone to return to.
He reached up and twisted Jean’s neck to the side, sickened by the quick snap and slump of the vampire’s body. Then he grabbed Gemma’s dagger from Jean’s heart and finished him with a quick slice across the back of his neck, severing his spine and leaving his corpse shackled to the wall.
Without a word, Murphy left Gemma, Terry, and Leonor, tracking the sound of the water as it lapped against the sides of the underground tunnel nearby. He followed the gentle noise and the scent farther into the black passage, knowing instinctively that even though the darkness became deeper the water would lead him back to her. And when Murphy found the river, he dove in and let it wash him clean.
Chapter Twenty-seven
SHE WATCHED HIM WAKE. And for the first time in her memory, her mate did not wake with a gasp, but with a whisper.
“Áine?”
“I’m here.”
He released the breath he must have been holding. “Thank you for not kicking me out.”